MAY 18

DAKOTA

I was running out of reasons to justify why I allowed Maud to manipulate me.

Being in love with her was a pretty damn good reason, but that no longer applied. I knew all too well that she was great at strong-arming people, and yet I still wound up following her over to the old station wagon parked in the Hamilton's driveway. I took the liberty of sitting in the backseat, assuring myself that this was the last time that I blindly followed Maud's lead.

"Now that you've kidnapped us, can you explain what the hell you're talking about?" Syd asked as Maud reversed out of the long driveway.

"I thought I already did," Maud huffed.

I rolled my eyes, already fed up with her self-important attitude. "I believe what Syd is asking you to do is to drop the sensationalized crap and cut to the chase."

Maud caught my gaze in the rearview mirror. "Whoever killed the orca would've wanted to get off the water as soon as possible, and there are only two marinas near Cape Blue. The West Sound Yacht Club is part of a resort, so there's a lot more traffic." She inhaled an exaggerated breath. "Unlike West Sound, Providence Point Marina is a private establishment and is less than one mile away from Cape Blue."

"How can this prove anything?" I asked, still not following her train of thought.

"By accessing the security footage."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Despite what crime dramas suggest, uncovering security footage isn't a magical solution. Also, membership data is private, so there's no way for us to view the activity log. Only other members and staff have access." 

As the car veered around a sharp bend, the pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror swung, and Syd made a high-pitched throat noise. "If we're about to break the law, at least go the speed limit, Maud!"

"I know what I'm doing," Maud protested, her voice slightly higher than its usual tone. "Also, everything is going to be perfectly legal. Dad used to dock his boat here, so our name is still in the system."

"And what about accessing the surveillance footage?" I asked, noting that she intentionally left out that detail. "Have you found a legal solution for that too?"

"I made a deal with the guy who works security tonight," Maud explained, her long dark hair tangling in the wind rushing through the open windows. "He's going to be my plus-one at the banquet. Nicki already has his own invitation, so it's a no-brainer."

"But that's still super shady," Syd pointed out, and I couldn't help but smirk. I appreciated having Syd on my side of this dispute.

"Look, I'm not sorry," Maud said, turning down whatever indie song was playing from the stereo. "I know the ethics are a little messy, and I know this might sound far-fetched, but I've never taken a chance that I regret. You can't change my mind."

By now, I was well aware of that fact. Maud was like a hurricane; there was no changing her course, and you can either choose to get out of her way or hunker down to ride it out.

When we arrived in the parking lot at Providence Point, the sun had dipped behind the purple silhouettes of the mountains. The club was relatively crowded for a Monday night, but Maud still had no problem finding a parking spot alongside the wrought-iron fence near the entrance.

"Do we have a plan of attack?" Syd asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Maud twisted in her seat and fixed both of us with a stern look. "This is a stealth mission. No monkey-business whatsoever."

"Aye aye, captain," I muttered, wondering if I was about to make an enormous mistake. "Let's get this over with."

Maud sent me a small nod and removed the keys from the ignition. Seeing that she still used the navy UBC lanyard that I gave her when she made her college decision, I quickly averted my gaze.

"I think I should wait here and keep watch," Syd said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just make sure you both check your god damn phones."

"You don't need to keep watch," I claimed, determined not to spend any time alone with Maud. It would've been different if Allix was here with us, and I wondered why she wasn't. Had Maud not invited her, or had she turned down the invite? I assumed it was the latter. "Maud is a member, and this isn't Ocean's Eleven."

"It can be if it means I'm George Clooney," Maud quipped, her smile almost contagious. I couldn't look at her for longer than a handful of seconds.

"I'm not exactly calm under pressure," Syd confessed with a frown. "Ocean definitely wouldn't want me out in the field. Now, get your asses moving."

Maud hesitated for a moment before tossing Syd her keys and hopping out of the car.

I clapped Syd on the shoulder. "Thank you for having my back, asshole."

"Go get 'em, tiger. Stay strong."

Maud was waiting for me on the curb, her tan arms folded in front of her chest.

"Thank you for tagging along," she said with another smile. It prompted a voice in my head to start questioning her agenda. "I honestly didn't think you would."

"You didn't give me a choice, per usual," I replied, looking anywhere but at her. The lights lining the sidewalk flickered on as we walked up to the clubhouse. Above our heads, the sky was a mixture of dark molten reds and deep blues.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that." We stopped in front of the large oak doors of the clubhouse, and Maud fixed me with a hard look. "Let me do the talking, and we can be on our way in no time."

Because my parents didn't raise me to be a jackass, I held the door open for Maud, and the vanilla scent of her shampoo tickled my nose. We continued down a long, elegant hallway with coastal oil paintings hanging from the white walls. When she stopped us in front of a door, she threw me yet another pointed look before knocking. A brief shuffling sounded from the other side, but then it swung open to reveal a somewhat familiar face.

"Hey, TJ," Maud chirped in a sweet voice that I'd learned she reserved for when she required a favor. "I have your ticket for the banquet."

TJ's green eyes darted between the two of us and then down the empty hallway, before finally stepping aside to allow us to pass through the doorway. Beneath the fluorescent lights, his pale skin shined with a thin layer of sweat. He'd been expecting us.

"I can give you ten minutes," TJ said, his gaze tracking Maud as she dropped into the office chair in front of the array of computer screens. Natural light spilled through the windows in front of the desk, bathing her a soft glow. "The footage you requested is in a desktop folder, and I'll delete everything after."

Maud spun around in the chair, reminding me of an evil hacker. "It'll be like we were never here."

"Whatever," TJ muttered, and paused by the doorway. "Just don't do it on the desk."

"No promises," she answered before I even had the chance to be offended.

"What an asshole," I said once the door shut behind TJ. The idea of Maud making a deal with someone like that left a bitter taste in my mouth. Why did she have to make a deal with him at all?

"That was TJ trying to assert his dominance," Maud shrugged, already logging into her account. "We infiltrated his territory, and he feels the need to defend it as well as his fragile masculinity."

Shaking my head, I watched Maud scroll through the membership directory. She hadn't mentioned how she was planning to narrow down the list of members who took their boat out on Saturday night, and she was scrolling so quickly that I was starting to think that she was one step ahead of me. It wouldn't be the first time.

My phone vibrated from inside my jacket, and I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the computer screen. 

SYD ATWOOD, 8:15 PM: I think the paparazzi just rolled up. Do you have a tracking device implanted in your neck?

Syd attached a picture of a red Chevy pickup truck, with some guy in his early twenties leaning against the front bumper. His dark shades and LA Angels baseball cap blew whatever cover he might have had otherwise.

I exhaled a hard breath and typed a response.

DAKOTA BLACK, 8:15 PM: There's an access road near the clubhouse. We'll meet you there soon.

"Dakota," Maud called, reeling my attention back to the computer displaying a membership profile.

SEASONAL MEMBERSHIP: CONRAD KANE

VESSEL REGISTRATION: BLACK SWAN

MODEL: HUNT OCEAN 63

I narrowed his eyes, feeling unease settle in my chest. "Is that supposed to prove something?"

"There's more," she said, her gaze momentarily flicking up to mine. She clicked on another open tab with the security footage of the outer marina, documenting the coming and going of all the boats. Set on 2x speed, I watched at least three dozen boats zoom in and out of the frame before she hit pause.

A stunning cruiser yacht occupied the screen, one that I'd gone on numerous times alongside Conrad. In the top left corner of the footage, the time read 8:45 PM. Maud didn't say another word, pressing play once more until the Black Swan returned at 11:30 PM.

I didn't look at Maud - I couldn't - but I felt her gaze scorching my skin like a bad sunburn.

"This is proof that Conrad took out his yacht before we found the orca," Maud argued. "He didn't return until after I called the police."

I gritted my teeth. "The only thing you've proved is that a famous millionaire took his yacht out for a spin on a Saturday night. That's it. That's not a crime."

"Why can't you trust me?" Maud selected print on the two time-stamped images of the Black Swan that she'd extracted from the footage. "Why can't you at least trust me more than your narcissistic boss?"

"What does any of this have to do with trust?" I countered, raising my voice for the first time tonight. 

On the opposite side of the room, the printer powered on with a starling whoosh. It began to click and clatter as the gears turned inside my head. Everything felt slightly suspicious to me, almost too straightforward. As Maud turned her back on me to attend to the printer, I grabbed the computer mouse and opened the account history. Adrenaline fired through my veins as I scanned the screen, processing the dates of transactions and other recent history. I didn't know what I was searching for until I found it.

HAMILTON ACCOUNT MEMBERSHIP: RECENT ACTIVITY LOG

MAY 17 2020 - 5:30 PM

MAY 18 2020 - 8:14 PM

"What are you doing?" Maud demanded, leaning over my shoulder. The scent of her vanilla shampoo nauseated me. "You don't need to look at that."

"And you don't need my help," I fired back, standing up and striding across the room towards the door.

I cursed myself for letting my guard down, and for giving Maud the benefit of the doubt. According to her account history, she'd accessed the membership log yesterday, and discovered that Conrad kept his yacht here. I suspected that the reason why she was retracing her steps was to trick me into thinking that she wasn't already one step ahead. If she'd been successful, I could've been her golden ticket onto the Black Swan.

"I do need your help," Maud insisted, holding tight to the papers in her hands. "I promise-"

"Your promises don't mean shit, Mimi," I interrupted, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. The way she flinched at my use of her nickname was oddly satisfying. "I'm getting the hell out of here."

I didn't stick around for Maud's response. The halls of the clubhouse felt like a labyrinth as I searched for an exit that wasn't the front door. Just as I received another text from Syd saying that he was waiting for us, Maud rounded a corner looking murderous.

"I already know about the screenplay," she seethed, dragging me by the arm towards what I hoped to god was an exit. "When Conrad stopped by the house, he mentioned poaching, and you've got a terrible poker face. It wasn't all that hard to figure it out."

"So, you lied to get back at me," I said, stealing back my arm as we pushed out the door. "How noble of you."

"You should've told me, Dakota!"

For a moment, something that felt a whole lot like guilt flared up inside me, but I wanted to learn from my mistakes. "You can believe whatever the hell you want, but you've made it abundantly clear that we owe each other nothing."

"Can we please just forget about our relationship for a minute?" Maud asked as we approached the station wagon. Syd sat in the driver's seat, quite literally getting a front-row ticket to our Oscar-worthy dispute. "You need to swallow your pride and admit that Conrad is probably responsible for orchestrating everything."

"You can't prove any of that," I shook my head, exasperated.

Syd picked a great time to stage an intervention, hopping out of the car. "In the event that we get into a high-speed chase with the paparazzi, you should probably drive, Maud."

"Oh, of course," she said, seemingly flipping an emotional switch. She was always much better at pretending everything between us was okay, especially when it wasn't.

I dragged myself into the backseat, and caught the wide-eyed glance Syd shot my way. Even if I wanted to say something, I doubted there was a verbal remedy for my situation with Maud. Perhaps silence was the only way to ride out this hurricane.