‘And you think it’s the boat boy?’
‘Who else could it be?’
‘But I thought you said you weren’t sure if he was dead.’
She sighed. ‘Robert Ashford told us the body had disappeared and a boat had been stolen. He said the boat boy has taken it and fled the island.’
‘And you believed that?’
‘I had to believe it,’ she said, clenching her fists together. ‘I’ve spent twenty years telling myself that was what happened.’
‘Why?’
‘Because in my heart of hearts, I’ve always thought that it was Miles who attacked him.’ She shook her head, knowing she had to tell him everything. ‘I’d slept with the boy earlier that night and it was just like Miles to find out and take revenge. I wanted to believe that he was OK and had escaped, because the alternative was suspecting that Miles had murdered him. But if there’s a body, well, it looks like he didn’t steal a boat and escape, did he?’
There was a long pause as Philip tried to absorb the information.
‘You have to tell someone,’ he said finally, his face solemn.
‘And dig myself into a deeper hole? We found the body, Philip. I’d had sex with the boat boy an hour earlier. I doubt the police know that detail; then again, who knows what they know?’
‘Precisely. And the last thing you want to happen is to get done for misprision of felony. Still law in the Bahamas as far as I’m aware.’
Sasha shook her head. ‘Misprision of felony?’
‘Concealment of a crime.’
Her hands were trembling, but Philip came over and took them in his. She felt a surge of strength and comfort.
‘What should I do, Phil?’
‘Don’t worry, for a start. We’ll sort this out together, OK?’
He put his strong arms around her and she felt safe and protected, knowing she had someone who would fight her corner. And Sasha Sinclair had never been one to lie down and take what was being thrown at her.
‘Sod this, I’m calling Miles,’ she said suddenly, standing up and going to the bedroom. She flicked through her BlackBerry until she found Miles’ assistant’s number. The number was over ten years old, but she was still connected to a polite British voice.
‘Mr Ashford is in New York right now,’ said the woman. ‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’
‘I’m an old friend and this is urgent business.’
‘I’ll pass on the message.’
Sasha was in no mood to be fobbed off. ‘I need to speak to him right now,’ she said firmly. ‘Tell him the Bahamian police have been in touch with me about a matter on Angel Cay.’
‘I’ll put you straight through to Mr Marshall,’ said the woman with clipped efficiency.
‘Who’s he?’ asked Sasha, but she was talking to dead air. There were a few clicks and then a rich-toned American came on the line.
‘Miss Sinclair. I’m glad you’ve called. I wanted to speak to you.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Miles Ashford’s attorney.’
Typical of Miles to put some lackey in between them. Never did like doing his own dirty work.
‘So you’ll know why I’m calling,’ said Sasha.