Read Online No Virgin Island by C. Michele Dorsey - Free Book Online

anything to do with Carter Johnson’s death. There is a real killer out there. Once they find out who it is, then the focus will be off you. I get why you’re panicking, but I think it will be okay.”
    They were winding through the curves on the road to Fish Bay. In the far distance on the last hill, Sabrina could see the glow of light, the kind she remembered hovered above shopping malls from when she lived in Boston. She had a sinking feeling in her chest, because she knew this halo hanging above the villa must be from lights being used by the police as they investigated the scene of the crime.
    She couldn’t see her own tiny house, which was tucked into a hillside, but she couldn’t wait to get there. She’d missed her evening swim with Girlfriend at Hawksnest Beach, but she could take her for a little walk and then take a long shower and wash away the muck of the day.
    “Can you pick me up in the morning around eight thirty?” Sabrina asked, remembering that she had to accompany Neil the next morning to meet with the police. Henry would need her jeep to get home. “I can drop you off to pick up the van when I meet Neil at Bar None.”
    “Quick, get down,” Henry said, pushing her head forward and down with his right hand. Sabrina heard the panic in his voice and followed his instruction without question.
    “Farther, duck down as far as you can go,” he said, as he reached behind into the backseat and pulled the plastic trash bag filled with rags for cleaning into the front seat and threw it on top of Sabrina. Her head was jammed against the glove compartment and her knees were thrust between her breasts. She was not pleased.
    “Henry,” Sabrina said, in a plaintive tone.
    “The INN TV van is parked about two hundred feet from your house. That wannabe reporter from Faith Chase is reporting on camera. She’s pointing to your house. There are about six cops coming in and out of the house, some with bags. Girlfriend does not look happy.”
    “Get Girlfriend and let’s get out of here. Please, Henry,” she said.
    Sabrina heard Henry get out of the jeep and the sound of the whistle she and Girlfriend knew so well. She heard him push the driver’s seat forward and then the galloping sound of her beloved chocolate lab bounding down the dirt road.
    “Good girl,” he said, shutting the door and turning on the ignition simultaneously. Sabrina felt him hit reverse, backing the jeep to the side of the road and then moving forward with a tear.
    “Hang on,” he said, as the jeep accelerated even more.
    Sabrina felt the bag of rags before she felt the impact of Girlfriend on top of them.
    “Backseat, backseat,” she heard Henry say as he pulled the dog off her.
    He took a left onto the main road because there was nowhere to go if he went right, other than back to the scene of the crime where she had started this never-ending day.
    Sabrina felt the plastic bag lifted off her and began to rise up from the floor.
    “Are we being followed?” she asked, not wanting to look around and see for herself. She knew from experience that if she was caught by a camera, even in a moving automobile, that photo would be plastered on the Internet, newspapers, and, worst of all, the Chasing Justice show.
    “No, but I wanted to make sure we got enough distance in case they tried. How the hell did they get someone down here from INN so fast?”
    “They’re like dust mites, Henry. They’re everywhere. You just can’t see them. Now I wish I hadn’t talked you into putting ‘Ten Villas’ on every vehicle we own.”
    Sabrina had been reluctant to bring attention to herself when she’d moved to St. John. Henry had pointed out
    that, while that might work for Sabrina’s personal life, it wouldn’t for the business they hoped to build. Now in their gecko-green jeeps, they were like moving targets for INN, the “In” News Network.
    “Should I take you to my place?” Henry asked.
    “How about the Westin and you keep