Under the Carib Sun: An Adel Destin Crime Novel

PART 2: Chapters 65 - 71

● 65 ●

Daphnée took off her bra and lace thong and stepped under the cool water of the shower stall, running her hands through her hair, slicking it back. She turned her face toward the jet and closed her eyes, stayed like this a while, letting some of the water enter her mouth before spitting it out.

Her first actual shower in over a year.

She reached for the bottle of body soap on the shelf in front of her, squeezed some in her hand and lathered herself. Thinking of what her next step should be now that she was inside Villa Victoria and had made friends with Samara.

She rinsed herself off and got out of the stall, toweled herself dry and applied some body lotion. She crossed into the bedroom and opened her travel bag on the bed, took out a clean pair of underwear and slipped them on. She pulled out the clothes and three pairs of shoes she’d brought with her, laid it all out on the bed.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that cocaine and champagne didn’t count as nourishment. Daphnée wasn’t hungry, but she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and knew she needed to put some solid food in her. De La Salle’s guests weren’t due to arrive at the villa until six-thirty so she decided to get dressed and go to the main house to see if she could find something to snack on.

Strong waves crashed on that side of the property, reverberating like a giant’s backhand slaps against the arched passageway that curved around the empty terrace. Daphnée had almost reached the al fresco kitchen when she heard a door open behind her and looked over her shoulder. A bald man was coming out of one of the guest bedrooms, holding a wide-brim straw hat in his hand—the tattooed man she’d seen in the photograph. The one who’d come to her house pretending to be a cop.

Daphnée’s heart seized up in her chest and she picked up her pace, trying not to panic, the man’s footsteps following after her. She reached the kitchen and glanced around, looking for a place to hide. The pantry’s ventilated door was ajar and Daphnée slipped inside, closing it just as the man walked in. She heard the refrigerator door open, glass bottles clinking inside it, then a woman’s voice that she identified as the head maid’s.

“Monsieur Clikz? You’re still here? Can I help you with anything?”

“Just looking for a little something to eat before I head out. Gotta take the boat to Saint-Martin and pick up the guests.”

“There’s some grilled mahi-mahi leftover from lunch.”

“Yeah?”

“In the other fridge. In the pantry.”

Daphnée glanced at the stainless steel refrigerator next to her and stopped breathing.

“That’s okay,” said the man. “I’ll just have some of this stuff right here.”

Daphnée listened to them chitchat for a few minutes longer, then the man said goodbye and left. The slats on the pantry door were oriented downward and she briefly caught sight of his sneakers as he walked past her. She stood there motionless for another moment until she heard the head maid’s footsteps leaving in the opposite direction, then got out.

“Martine!” she called, hurrying after her.

The Saint-Barth woman turned around. “Daphnée?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I missed lunch. Is it okay if I help myself to some food in the kitchen?”

“Of course, dear. Anything you want.”

“Thanks.” Daphnée made as if she was walking away, stopped. “Hey, who’s this guy I just saw on my way here.”

“Oh, that’d be Monsieur Clikz.”