We hung around the pool a little while longer. For me, the whole thing had lost its relaxing air, though. Because the decision I’d made had left my stomach feeling rock hard. So when Ava suggested we call it a night, I was more than happy to.
We’d come down here in just our swimwear, so I slipped on my beach dress, stepped into my sandals, and balled up my damp towel.
In my apartment, I headed straight for the shower. Generally, I didn’t actually need to use shampoo or conditioner. Vampirism took care of personal hygiene, so my hair was never greasy or in need of brushing. But, naturally, I would like to wash away the chlorine.
After the shower, I pulled on my towel-robe and used a small microfibre towel to dab at my wet hair. I then left it to airdry, not needing to worry that I’d have some frizz going on. Vampirism kept the strands soft and glossy.
I was grabbing clothes from my drawers when a knock came at the door. Dumping my underwear and sweatpants on the bed, I made my way to the front door. Finding Coop on the other side of it, I blinked. “Oh, hey.”
He gave me an apologetic look. “I caught you at a bad time, huh?”
“I was just about to get dressed, but … Is something wrong? You look—”
“Like I’ve spent the past few hours thinking too much? That would be about right. Are you busy?” he asked, twiddling his fingers. “This won’t take long.”
“No, come in.” I moved aside to let him pass and then shut the door. “Do you want a drink or anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Okay, so what’s up?”
“I just spoke with Derek,” replied Coop, following me into the living area, where we both sat on the sofa. “He gave me the same story he gave you when he came here. I told him about the conversation you and I had with Beatrix at the restaurant. He swore that her word could not be trusted; that she truly is the liar here. I asked why he hadn’t requested that she be removed from the island if she’s spreading false rumours.”
“And?”
“He said that they’re the last of their nest; that she’d have nowhere to go, no one to turn to, and he doesn’t think she’d survive on her own. He said he kept hoping she’d just let him go but, for the first time, he’s thinking it might be best to have her relocated.”
I hummed. “Do you think he’ll really ask that of Sam and Jared?”
Coop shrugged. “I don’t know. He was very convincing. But then, so were Arlo and Beatrix.”
“Well, at least one of the three is a bullshitter.”
Coop rubbed at his nape. “I don’t want it to be Arlo. That’s why I don’t trust my judgment here. I’m too tempted to brand Derek and Beatrix the bad guys. I’ve been going over it again and again in my head, trying to stay impartial, but it was hopeless.”
“What’s the gist of what Arlo said to you when he claimed you’d been betrayed by Derek?”
“Well, Arlo came to my apartment one night. He said he’d been arguing with himself about whether or not he should ‘do this,’ but that he couldn’t keep quiet because I deserved better. Then he said that Derek had been sleeping with Beatrix behind my back. Arlo said I really shouldn’t take the betrayal personally because ‘those two, as a couple, are so old that they don’t really see it as cheating on others whenever they get together for a night.’ He told me they had a messed up dynamic and that it would be better for me to not be touched by it.”
On the outside, that did in fact appear to be the case. “I’m guessing you then confronted Derek.”
“I did. He swore it wasn’t true, he looked so sincere, but I’d heard from others that he’d allegedly betrayed them with Beatrix, so it was easy to believe he’d done the same to me. And I couldn’t see why Arlo would lie about it.”
“But now you’re not finding it so easy to believe that Derek’s the guilty party?”
Coop flapped his hands. “I just don’t know. A friend of mine from back home had an ex-girlfriend who lied to his partners that he was still fucking her. She wasn’t a bad person, just struggled to let him go. Beatrix isn’t bad …”
“But could be having the same struggle.”
“Or maybe not. I mean, she was pretty convincing too. And I’ve met men who have such an unhealthy hold on a woman that she’ll stick around hoping he’ll come back, almost addicted to the ‘good times.’ I read somewhere that the effect on the brain is similar to when you play those slot machines at bars or casinos. You keep putting money into the machines because you love that high you get when it sporadically pays off.” He sighed. “I really don’t know who or what to believe.”