The Beautiful and the Wicked

by Liv Spector

  “You’re right. But I do know that you don’t have the balls to stand up to Warren.” She paused and looked closely at Asher.

  Everyone in the room went quiet.

  “Fuck you. You don’t know shit!” Asher said, moving again toward Lila, but this time she didn’t jump out of his way. She faced him calmly, feeling his hot, whiskey breath in her face. It was then that she knew he wasn’t just full of shit. She felt the pulse of violence running through his veins. This was a man who was capable of killing.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” Mudge said, waving his hands. “Simmer the hell down, the both of you.”

  Ben grabbed Lila by the arm. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “I’m fine,” Lila said, ripping her arm out of Ben’s grasp. She was pissed off now and didn’t feel like backing down.

  “The hell you are.”

  He put both of his hands on her shoulders and steered her into the hallway. Only when they were far enough away from the mess to no longer hear Asher’s taunts did Ben say something. “What the fuck was that about?”

  “I don’t have a lot of patience for that macho show-­off shit.”

  “But the way you got in his face. It was crazy. I mean, what were you thinking?” Ben stepped back and gave Lila a thorough once-­over.

  Lila gave a little laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “You know I would,” Ben said. But all Lila could think about was Asher. Could he be Jack’s killer? But Ben had other things on his mind. “Do you want to cool off upstairs on the main deck?”

  Lila knew what Ben was getting at. He was inviting her to take a moonlight stroll, which would lead her somewhere that she didn’t want to go.

  “I think I’ll just turn in. I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” she said.

  Romance was not on her mind. She was too focused on Asher. He was threatening, out of control, and looking for an outlet for his rage. Plus, he’d said he wanted Jack dead, and Lila knew that went beyond drunken ranting. He was truly dangerous.

  Then, just as her mind was working through these thoughts, she felt Ben put his arm around her waist. He twirled her toward him and gently backed her up against the hallway wall. His touch was so unexpected that she practically jumped out of her skin. But before she could say anything, he pressed his lips against hers. She pulled her head away in protest, but only momentarily. She didn’t know if it was the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body against hers, or just the madness of the moment, but she turned back toward him and kissed him greedily, with a hunger she could no longer deny.

  It didn’t last long.

  Lila heard someone clear their throat. She turned to see Josie leaning up against Asher’s door, watching them, a half-­empty bottle of coconut rum in her hand. Her eyes were ringed with smeared black mascara and her face was swollen from crying.

  “Oh, hey, Josie,” Ben said, pulling away from Lila as he wiped his mouth.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Josie said in a flat tone.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Lila said.

  “Whatever,” Josie said as she went into Asher’s room and slammed the door behind her.

  The brief wave of passion that had just swept Lila away instantly retreated, leaving her feeling like an idiot who couldn’t control herself even when she most needed to. She knew she had to put an end to this immediately. Her focus needed to be on the case, and only the case. She looked up at Ben who was beaming down at her.

  His smile evaporated when he saw Lila’s concern. “Oh, don’t worry. She won’t say anything.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” Lila said.

  “Come on. A little hallway kiss is good for you,” Ben said playfully. “Anyway, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you?” he said as he took her face in his hand. “You’re utterly magnificent.”

  He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled away, for real this time. “It’s late. And I’ve got to go to bed.”

  “All right,” he said, stepping away from her. “Have it your way. I’ll head to my little room. But you can’t stop me from wishing you were with me.”

  Lila didn’t let herself smile at what he said until she knew she was out of his sight. She didn’t want to give him any encouragement.

  With Sam in a deep sleep on the top bunk, Lila was about to quietly change for bed when she heard Asher and Josie’s voices down the hall. Wanting to know what they were talking about, Lila slipped back out of her room and tiptoed toward Asher’s door, which was slightly ajar. She peeked in through the crack.

  She saw Josie sitting on Asher’s single bed surrounded by small piles of pills—­red, black, white, purple—­a veritable rainbow of psychopharmaceuticals, which Josie was counting and transferring into little sandwich bags while Asher paced around.

  “He wouldn’t do it, Josie. Trust me. You’re his only kid,” Asher said. It seemed like he was trying to calm Josie down, but Lila could tell just how angry he still was from his tone and the way he was manically walking up and down his tiny room.

  “Ash, I hate him so much,” Josie cried, burying her head into her hands, her long hair falling over her face like a curtain. “I wish he’d just die.” She threw her body down on the bed, upsetting the carefully arranged pills.

  “Hey, watch it!” Asher said, bending down to pick up the large white pills that had fallen to the floor. Lila knew they were OxyContins. “Listen, your old man will get what’s coming to him. That’s a guarantee.”

  “He said he’s going to cut me off completely!”

  “I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “You can’t do shit. And my mom won’t stop him. She’s just some collagen-­injected zombie who does whatever he says.”

  “Okay. I know we can figure this out. I just need to sober up.” He slapped himself in the face hard a few times. Then he plucked a pumpkin-­orange Adderall off the bed, popped it into his mouth, and chased it down with a swig of coconut rum.

  “How fast do you think your dad can change his will?” Asher asked. Lila wasn’t surprised that Asher’s focus seemed to be on the money, but Josie was.

  “Why do you care about the will?” Josie asked, pushing herself up out of her miserable little curled position.

  “Baby, listen. You don’t know what life without money is like. I do. Trust me. If we can keep you on your dad’s payroll, it’ll be better for everyone.”

  “But I can’t take his money if I’m with you! How many times do I have to say it?” she sobbed. “I chose you over his money.”

  “This is what we’ll do,” Asher said, completely ignoring Josie. The amphetamines had begun to trick his mind into some kind of faux clarity. “We’ve got to call your dad’s bluff. Show him that he can’t boss us around. He wants me off the boat and he wants you to come crawling back to him. But fuck him. Right? So we’ll get off together in Anguilla.”

  “Then what?” Josie asked.

  “Then we do what we’ve talked about.”

  “Do you think we have to?”

  “It’s the only way you’ll be free, baby. The only way.” He walked over to her, lifting up her chin with his hand and kissing her deeply. “I know what I’m doing,” he said.

  “Don’t you have any money?”

  “No, baby. I told you. Nash said your dad won’t pay me shit. But I’m going to take what’s mine. I always do.”

  “You could sell your Rolex,” Josie whispered tentatively.

  Asher slapped his hand to his wrist, covering up the watch as if Josie was about to snatch it off his body. “No way!” he said. “You know how special this is to me. If you understood me at all, you’d never ask that. God, maybe we should rethink this whole thing.”

  “No, please!” Josie desperately pleaded. Now that Josie had been cut off from her family, she was terrified to lose the only thing s
he had left: Asher. “I’m sorry I asked. I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.” Josie’s groveling made Lila feel sick in her stomach.

  “You should have,” Asher sniffed in a patronizing tone. “Not all of us have grown up getting whatever we want. I had to work for this,” Asher said, pointing to his watch. “You haven’t had to work for anything.”

  “You’re right,” Josie said as her shoulders slumped and her head hung limply on her chest, as if she were trying to make her tiny body look even smaller.

  “Your inheritance. That’s the most important thing. We’ve got to do whatever it takes. Then you’ll finally be free,” Asher said. He was so obviously manipulating Josie, but she couldn’t see it.

  “My dad says I can’t live without him? Well, fine.” There was a small catch in Josie’s voice as she spoke, but she swallowed it quickly and replaced it with steel. “We’ll show him. Won’t we, baby?”

  “Of course we will,” Asher said, reaching for her. “Of course we will. Now stand up.” Asher’s voice changed from consoling to controlling. Josie, quick to obey, got up from the bed as a few errant pills tumbled to the floor. She went to wrap her arms around Asher, but he leaned away. “No,” he said coldly. “Turn around.”

  “Not tonight, Ash. I don’t—­”

  “Turn around,” he said loudly, interrupting her.

  She obeyed. Lila wasn’t sure what was going on, but one thing was clear, Asher was totally in control.

  “Put your hands up against the wall,” he said.

  “I’m tired. Can’t you just hold me tonight?” Josie asked quietly.

  “Do it.”

  Lila thought she heard small whimpering sounds from Josie as she placed her hands against Asher’s cabin wall. She stood there looking down at the floor as if she was about to get frisked by a cop. Asher opened the drawer to a side table and took out a silk tie. He went behind Josie, pushing his weight against her as he greedily ran his hands over her body, between her slightly parted legs, up her waist, then down over her breasts. He whispered something into her ear that Lila couldn’t hear.

  Asher used the tie to wrap one wrist and then the other, binding them tightly together above Josie’s head. As he tied a final knot, Josie winced in pain, which just made him tie the knot even tighter. He lifted her dress up, putting the bottom of it over her head like a mask. Then he slid her underwear down around her ankles. Josie had started to shake ever so slightly as Asher stood back, observing her before he took a ­couple of long swigs of rum. The moment Asher began to disrobe, Lila turned away and went back to her room with a sick feeling in her stomach.

  No point in sticking around for what was next. She’d seen enough for one day.

  CHAPTER 17

  THE NIGHT OF Jack Warren’s murder was just ten days away, and for the first time in the entire decade she’d spent thinking about this case, Lila no longer believed Elise Warren was the primary suspect. She was now convinced that Jack’s daughter and her lover were his killers.

  As Lila tried and failed to fall asleep that August night while the yacht sailed south to Anguilla, she went through the details of what she knew about Josie. On the surface, Josie seemed about as likely to commit murder as the Dalai Lama. Vegan, existentialist Josie with her peasant blouses and her power-­to-­the-­­people politics didn’t even faintly resemble someone who could murder her father and then frame someone else for the crime. But when Lila factored in Asher, the scenario changed radically.

  Asher wanted money and Josie wanted Asher. It was that simple. And the only thing that stood in the way of their getting what they wanted was Jack Warren. Lila thought about Patty Hearst. If that nineteen-­year-­old socialite could be kidnapped and brainwashed into robbing banks for the “revolution,” then twenty-­year-­old Josie Warren could be manipulated into killing the controlling father from whom she’d been longing to escape. Just chalk it up to the things we do for love.

  Plus, there was something chilling about the scene Lila had just witnessed between Josie and Asher. He had been domineering and sadistic, nothing like the laid-­back persona he presented to the world. And strong-­willed and free-­spirited Josie totally disappeared in Asher’s presence, transforming into a desperate-­to-­please weakling willing to do whatever he wished.

  Lila knew that light S&M wasn’t a precursor to murder, but the dynamic between the two of them was undeniably volatile and toxic. It all amounted to one giant red flag waving around in Lila’s restless mind.

  For the remainder of the night, Lila kept a close eye on Asher’s door by periodically sneaking out into the hallway. But every time she checked, it was closed and the lights stayed off. It seemed that all the sex, drugs, and scheming had finally worn Josie and Asher out—­for now.

  THE NEXT MORNING, none of the guests could talk of anything else over breakfast.

  “We’ve known each other for a long time, Jack,” Thiago said as he took small and elegant sips from a Wedgwood china coffee cup. “Longer than anyone else here, including your beautiful wife. And I’ve never seen you overreact as badly as last night. And over such a small indiscretion. I’d venture to guess that everyone at this table has known the joy of feasting on forbidden fruit? Yes? Including you, my friend.”

  Thiago looked around, but the only one who met his eye was Jack, who had a treacherous snarl on his face.

  “Stay out of it, Thiago,” Jack warned. “You of all ­people have no right to tell me how to treat and protect my family.” The two men held each other’s gaze. Lila, as she poured more green tea into Jack’s cup, once again wondered what was going on between these two men. Was it about money? Or something more?

  “I’m only offering my humble advice,” Thiago said. He reached for his wife Esperanza’s hand. “Young women need to be treated with great kindness and understanding. Not control and anger.”

  “And I’ll say it again. Stay out of it.”

  “It’ll all blow over,” Clarence Baines said as he chewed his eggs noisily.

  “What do you think, Elise?” Charity Baines asked, reaching out her little hand, with its pink nails and large diamond ring, toward Elise, who had been sitting silently at the head of the table, her meager breakfast untouched.

  Elise began to speak, but Jack jumped in before she could say anything. “I’ll tell you what she thinks,” he said. “She thinks I’m driving Josie away. But mark my words, that girl will come running back the moment she gets a taste of the real world. This one here,” he said, jabbing a fork at his wife, “wants to coddle her like a baby. And I’ll tell you what that does. It creates a spoiled, insipid brat who wants to run off with the help. So, I’m done listening to her,” Jack concluded with disgust. “I’ve got to instill some real values in my daughter before it’s too late.”

  “Hear, hear!” Clarence Baines said. “It’s never too late to teach our children the important lessons of personal responsibility. I’ve had my own children read the great Stoic philosophers since they were little tykes. I think it was Marcus Aurelius who once wrote, ‘The first rule is—­’ ”

  “Clarence?” Jack interrupted.

  “Yes, Jack?”

  “I think I speak for everyone at the table when I say, put a fucking sock in it, will you?”

  THE YACHT ARRIVED in Anguilla a little after noon. As the crew scrambled to dock the behemoth and the passengers gathered on the main deck, anxious to get on dry land, Josie and Asher, absent all morning, finally made an appearance. Holding each other’s hand, they solemnly walked past everyone without saying a word.

  Josie had made herself up to look like a hippie bride. She was wearing a long, white maxidress with a plunging neckline. Her hair was braided and pinned up elaborately. A wreath of flowers encircled the top of her head. Lila had never seen two ­people supposedly in love look so incredibly unhappy.

  As they were about to walk down the gangway, Josie turned to
her father, who was standing silently watching them.

  “I want to read you all something before I go,” Josie said, unfolding a piece of paper she had been holding tightly in her fist. She spoke like someone who was onstage in front of a large crowd for the first time—­stiff and serious, with fear evident in every tight-­chested breath. “This is a poem from Rumi that I’d like to share with you.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jack said, with a disgusted roll of his eyes.

  But her father’s words only made her more defiant. Josie read, “ ‘Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be.’ ” Her face was grave, as if she’d just shared a piece of deep wisdom with this group of hard-hearted adults. She folded the paper back up, then took her lover’s hand. Asher looked anxious to go. He pulled Josie toward the dock, but she wouldn’t budge. She was having a profound moment of defiance and she wouldn’t let anyone cut it short. “Let me be, Dad,” Josie said as she descended the gangway.

  “With pleasure,” Jack yelled out to his daughter, who kept walking away.

  Lila had no idea where Josie and Asher were going. She was desperate to follow them, but leaving the yacht was an impossibility. She had a long list of tasks to complete and her own personal overlord constantly hovering around to make sure everything was done just right.

  Only crew were on the yacht that day. Jack and Ben were meeting Caleb Johnson, an experienced helmsman whom they were interviewing as a potential addition to their America’s Cup team. The plan was to go out together for a long sail. They brought Thiago, Esperanza, Clarence, and Paul Mason along for the ride. Having zero interest in racing around the Caribbean on an uncomfortable sailboat, Elise and Charity decided to take a chartered speedboat over to St. Martin, the French-­Dutch Virgin Island only a fifteen-­minute ride away, for some very expensive retail therapy. After all, Elise did have to find some way, aside from her usual diet of alcohol and sedatives, to cope with the fact that her only child had just run off with a muscled sailor with dollar signs in his eyes.