Blackbird, with its stark white two-story interior, floor-to-ceiling dark-wood encased windows, and dramatic towering floral arrangements, was designed to make a statement. Twilight had settled in when Whitt Blake and her husband, David Quinn, along with her sister Finley and her life partner Max Davies arrived at the fashionable restaurant in Makati, housed in an art deco space that, during the 1930s, had been the international airport.
Several of the group from the bank where Whitt worked were already seated by the time she and the others walked in. Finley had heard so much about Whitt’s bank friends and looked forward to meeting them—Aliyan and Saskia, Rob and Amiko, Francisco and Caroline, and Monica and Jay. Charlie, Whitt’s best friend in Manila, rounded out the group, even though she didn’t work at the bank.
“You guys heading to Palawan?” Rob had poured himself a glass of wine and leaned back against the chair, his arm resting around his wife Amiko’s shoulders. “The diving’s some of the best in the world. David knows!”
“I’m excited. David and I are heading out on a charter to El Nido and a few other spots that he says are good,” Max explained.
David nodded. “Hoping to get the ladies to join us for at least some snorkeling before they head up to the Summit.”
David’s comment caught the ladies’ attention. And it wasn’t because of the snorkeling.
Caroline shifted in her seat and stared at Whitt. “You’re going to the Summit? How did you swing that? The waitlist for that place is a mile long!”
Monica agreed. “Daniella, Mark’s wife, had her name on the list for almost six months before she finally got in. I’m dying to go.” Mark was another of their colleagues at the bank.
“I would be careful using the word ‘dying’ when these two sisters are together. It can be dangerous!” Max teased as he put his arm around Finley.
“Max says it as a joke, but these two do have a reputation. I don’t care where it is in the world—Tangier, Galle, Jaipur. Even Charleston. If Finley and Whitt are together, something deadly is bound to happen,” Charlie leaned forward to catch Monica’s eye. “I’ve seen it firsthand!”
“And yet, these two married us anyway!” Whitt took David’s arm and kissed his cheek. “Now who’s the fool?”
Finley chuckled. It was true. Six months ago, almost to the day, Whitt and David had become husband and wife. And a little over a year before that, Max and Finley had committed to each other forever, their version of “committed permanence without marriage,” in deference to Max’s aversion to the institution. Somehow both men had managed to overlook the bodies that popped up wherever Finley and Whitt went.
Monica brought the conversation back on topic. “So, what things are you going to have done? Daniella said the specialized treatments were expensive but well worth it. They have an antigravity capsule. Supposed to take years off your face!”
Whitt scoffed, “Daniella isn’t even thirty. If she gets any more years taken off, she’ll be back in diapers! I’ll be staying away from that one.” She continued, “No big secret to getting in. I won four days for two at the Summit at the Children’s Welfare benefit gala. And this is the weekend. Then Finley got an assignment to write about the best spas in Asia.”
Finley interjected, “A difficult mission but someone had to make the sacrifice!”
“David didn’t want to go, so Charlie volunteered.”
“What I don’t do for my friends!” Charlie giggled.
***
Finley and Whitt could tell that David and Max were as giddy-excited about their diving schedule as two boys heading out on their first fishing trip. Their guide, a short man with a muscular torso that contrasted sharply with his rounded belly, had met the two at the Puerto Princesa Hotel shortly after the Four Musketeers, as the foursome called themselves when together, arrived in Palawan. The group had opted for the early flight from Manila into Puerto Princesa that put them into Palawan midmorning.
“Let’s change into our suits and get some snorkeling done before lunch,” David suggested when they had finished talking to the guide.
“I’m fine with the snorkeling this morning, but I have plans for this afternoon,” Whitt took a sip of her coffee, one eye on her husband.
“You’re not shopping again, are you?” David glanced up and shook his head slightly at his wife’s proposed round of shopping therapy. He got ready to say something before Finley interrupted.
“So where did the diving guide say y’all were going to go?” Finley directed her gaze at Max, signaling him to help her change the subject before David got himself into hot water.
Max picked up the cue and described the course that had been charted for the “seafari” they were embarking on.
“We’ll do the hot spots like the reefs off Puerto Princesa as well as El Nido before we head up to Coron.” Max’s finger sketched an imaginary route up the coast.
Finley pictured the map of Palawan in her mind and saw the sailboat the men had chartered following the course north and then slightly east.
“And it looks like we are going to Tubbataha!” Max concluded.
“That’s a UN World Heritage Site, isn’t it?” Finley asked.
David, distracted by the talk of the boating trip, answered. “Yes, and reputed to be one of the most beautiful locations in all of the Philippines, if not the world.”
“It says here that the reef is part of the Tubbataha Reef Marine Park near Cagayancillo Island.” Whitt had pulled out one of her many guidebooks and was reading from a page. “It’s so renowned by the Philippines that they even put it on the back of their 1,000 peso note.”
“Thanks for being willing to take the extra time so we could do Tubbataha. I wasn’t sure we could fit it in, given the distance.” David reached and took a piece of bacon from Whitt’s plate, giving her a chunk of papaya in exchange.
“As if they really have to suffer, David,” Max gave Finley a sly grin. “Our wives get a few extra days of massages that we agreed to pay for!”
Finley smiled. She had begun to like it now when Max called her his wife, notwithstanding their less-than-formal marital arrangement. He had taken to addressing her as such shortly after their commitment in London almost a year and a half ago.
It had gotten her in trouble, though, when he went so far as to intimate to relatives at Whitt and David’s wedding in Charleston that they were married. She’d had to explain to him that in the South, skipping the big wedding, especially if you had the means, generally led to speculation about whether the bride was already with child.
Finley looked at her sister nestled in David’s arms and saw the same contentment in Whitt that she felt with Max. There was a time when Whitt had sworn she would never get married. And yet now, here she was, married and very much in love.
“When does Charlie arrive?” Finley asked, seeing the potential tiff between David and Whitt over Whitt’s shopping averted.
“Tomorrow morning. She’s taking the same flight that we were on, but she’s coming straight to the Summit,” Whitt replied, sneaking another piece of papaya from David’s plate.
“Well, I, for one, am going to take advantage of the sun this afternoon, while these ladies head out on their venture.” Max angled his body closer to Finley on the banquette as he spoke. “And then I am going to recommend that we take these beautiful women out for a special dinner before we part ways. As much as I am looking forward to the time at sea, I’m going to miss my lady love.”
Finley was a bit surprised by Max’s sentimentality. Normally, the man was the epitome of stoicism. For the longest time, she had assumed that only she had been torn up by their parting in Tangier many years ago. Every indication was that Max had moved on after she left.
A chance meeting in Tangier a few years later revealed that nothing could have been further from the truth. Max too had been destroyed by their breakup but had shown it in ways not apparent to most. More recently, however, he had loosened his reserve and talked more openly, with deep affection. Finley had to admit that as much as she liked it, it took a little getting used to.
After they left the guys by the pool and headed to the shops, it took more than a little browsing to get Whitt “shopped out.”
“Give me your bags, Whitt. I’ll sit here while you finish. I refuse to walk anymore!” Finley sat down in the little courtyard that connected several of the shops to rest her feet after visiting the ninth store.
Finley laughed as Whitt dropped her parcels and scurried off to the next artisan’s shop.
Any excuse to shop was good enough for Whitt. She had inherited Mama’s shopping gene, no doubt. It didn’t matter where they were in the world—Whitt was going to find the best shops and exhaust their inventory before she left. That said, she always came back with exquisite finds. Finley, on the other hand, abhorred shopping and was just as happy having Mama and Whitt as her personal shoppers.
“Did you see that?” Whitt came back and sat beside Finley on the bench. She directed her eyes toward a large entourage of people clustered around a petite, stylishly dressed woman. The woman wore a brightly patterned shirtdress that accentuated her small waist and shapely legs. Her hair was carefully coiffed into a lacquered blowout that stood firm against the ocean breeze.
Finley looked over and shrugged.
Whitt shook her head at her sister’s indifference. “That’s Angie Pineda. She was a former Miss International. That was almost twenty years ago, but she’s revered here. Still has quite a few local endorsements.”
Finley flinched when the former Miss International snapped her manicured fingers impatiently at another woman before summarily dismissing her with a flick of her wrist. The other woman moved away, apparently as told. Finley thought she saw an angry glare exchanged between the two when the woman took a seat on an empty bench a few feet away.
“You see that tall Indian guy with the Anglo chick on his arm?” Whitt was now peering over her shoulder and nodding in the direction of something behind her.
Finley glanced at the man and shrugged again.
“You are hopeless! That’s Arun Mehta, the big Bollywood star.”
“Should that tell me something?”
“Remember, he was the lead in that movie, Remembrance, you saw with Max in Delhi?” Whitt tried to trigger her sister’s memory before giving up and moving on.
Finley took a second look at the man, but nothing notable came to mind. She knew she was hopeless when it came to keeping up with current entertainment trends. Her taste veered more to ancient than modern culture.
“Like night and day how they’re traveling.” Whitt was looking at the two stars. “Arun trying to keep his head down and not be seen. And Miss International trying to attract as much attention as she can get!”
“When his star wanes, he’ll probably do the same,” Finley remarked after observing the two groups. She ran her eye over the rest of crowd as they carried on with their shopping, looking for others that might be members of the glitterati. “Anyone else rich and famous that I missed?”
“None that I can see, but let’s grab a glass of wine at Tomaso’s and see who else we can spot. I was told that is the go-to spot for ‘stargazing’ on the island.” Whitt gathered up her multitude of bags and started toward Main Street.
“Stars? From where?”
“Hong Kong, and occasionally the US. Who knows who we will see.”
“Don’t mean to be rude, but Puerto Princesa doesn’t strike me as the type of place any movie star worth his salt would go.”
“You wouldn’t know them if you saw them! But you do have a point. Puerto Princesa is on the water, but there isn’t much to see. A few hotels, a cluster or two of shops, and a sprinkling of restaurants. No five-stars that I’ve seen.” Whitt headed toward the pier. “But who knows.”
The waiter at Tomaso’s showed them to an outside table tucked away on the side of the broad veranda. The table’s location gave them a charmed view of the water—and the other guests, of which there were quite a few. For the first few moments after she and Whitt ordered, Finley sat back and took in the expanse of water in front of her. It was a postcard-perfect picture of the lagoon with palm trees, a stretch of beach, and a rainbow of blue water that started with deep navy before flowing into aquamarine and ending in a shocking blue-green.
Finley glanced up from her water reverie at the sound of boisterous voices. Parts of Miss International’s entourage, including the dismissed woman, had planted themselves at a large table in the center of the restaurant and were engaged in an animated conversation. Miss International herself, however, was nowhere to be seen.
Finley took a sip of the sauvignon blanc the waiter had just brought and raised her voice slightly to be heard over the nearby conversations, “What treatments are you going to get done at the Summit?”
“I listed out several things I want to try.” Whitt scanned the crowd looking for more celebrities before glancing at the Miss International group with pressed lips and a raised brow.
Finley chuckled under her breath at her sister’s reaction before continuing with the conversation, “I tried a seaweed wrap when I was in Thailand and liked it. Maybe I’ll do that again.”
“The diagnostic scan they do seemed pretty interesting. And some of the hydrotherapy sessions sounded relaxing.” Whitt picked up an olive and popped it into her mouth, returning her attention to Finley.
“I’m going to stick to the spa and yoga options. The description of some of the other treatments verged on proctology if you ask me.”
At Finley’s last comment, Whitt almost spit the olive pit across the room, “You’re incorrigible!”
“Well, it’s true! Did you read the flyers carefully? They are talking about probing and prodding places that I’d just as soon leave alone.” Finley cast a side glance at her sister.
“You have gotten risk-averse in your old age”
“And since when did you get so adventurous?”
“Since I won this trip. It’s not often that you get to try this stuff out, all expenses paid.” Whitt sprang to her feet. “We’d better settle our bill and get back. I almost forgot. We have dinner with the boys tonight!”
***
When the alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. the next morning, Finley wanted to turn over and go back to sleep. The foursome had drunk their way well into the morning. However, powered by adrenaline, Max had jumped out of bed and bolted for the shower as soon as the alarm rang. In no time, he was dressed, outfitted in a powder-blue rash shirt, navy surfer shorts, and deck shoes. He stood, bag in hand, ready to head down to grab the breakfast packs the hotel had made for them.
While he waited, Finley slowly pulled on a sundress and ran a brush through her hair before heading off to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
“This is as good as it gets,” she announced as she glanced in the mirror and staggered sleepily back into the room. She leaned against the door with her eyes closed. “This is inhumane! Are you guys getting up this early every morning?”
Max walked over and pulled her away from the wall and into his arms. “My beautiful Sleeping Beauty. How I am going to miss you!”
He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, and her nose before engaging her lips with a kiss so thorough that Finley hung in Max’s arms limply when they pulled apart.
“That was nice. Very nice. I think I like being missed,” Finley drawled, her eyes still closed.
Max deposited her on the edge of the bed and reopened his duffel bag to throw in a few more items he had forgotten.
“That new puppy of David and Whitt’s is a heartbreaker,” he said as he rearranged the clothes to fit a solar charger in his Dopp kit.
“Delilah is cute. And the two of you got along like old pals. It was so sweet—you asleep with her curled up on your chest.” Finley smiled at the image of her tall, muscular partner and the caramel handful of retriever snuggled together.
“You think our babies will do that?” Max looked up from zipping his bag closed and held Finley’s eye. Lately he had been asking about babies and raising children. He was clearly signaling that he was ready. But was she?
“I think they will, when they feel safe and secure.” Finley leaned up and touched his cheek gently.
When the guys departed a few minutes later for their diving trip, Whitt and Finley headed back upstairs. Their car to the Summit wouldn’t arrive for another few hours.
“You headed back to bed?” Whitt asked when they reached the doors to their respective rooms.
Finley shook her head. “Nope. I was going to shower and then go get coffee out by the water.”
“Good idea. I’ll join you. And I’ll call the resort and ask the car to come early.”
Just over an hour later, a black Range Rover from the Summit pulled up in front of the hotel. The driver, an angular man with a short, spiky haircut that protruded at random angles under his uniform cap, placed their luggage in the back and helped the sisters take their seats.
“Welcome to the Summit. I am sure you will enjoy your stay. If there is anything I can get for you before we begin the short ride up the hill, please let me know. There is water in the fold-down armrest, and the international editions of the New York Times and Financial Times are in the seat pocket.”
He paused to see if Finley and Whitt had any immediate needs. “If not, we will be on our way.”
In no time, the bustle of the town proper was forgotten amid a forested area that ended at a stone gate, marked The Summit, which opened to a long palm-lined lane. At the end of the lane was a two-story thatched wooden edifice with pillars of stone that matched the entry gate. All around, verdant palms, interspersed among strategically placed pools, danced in the morning breeze.
The spa, set on twenty acres of manicured grounds nestled in the heart of a jungle that overlooked the sea, was opened ten years earlier to provide a health-centered oasis for those who wanted to escape the hustle of Manila but weren’t into the diving focus that pervaded most visits to Palawan. In the ensuing years, it had gained a reputation as one of the most exclusive spa resorts in Asia, if not the world.
“Welcome. I hope Jun made your trip enjoyable!” A bright-faced young woman in a skirt and beautifully embroidered blouse made of sheer pinya fibers greeted them at a flower-strewn entrance.
“It smells so good. So restful,” Whitt commented as they followed the woman inside to reception.
“Sandalwood and lemongrass. My name is Dalisay. I am here throughout your stay to ensure that it is a good one and that you come back to visit us again soon. Just a moment.”
While they waited, Finley and Whitt took in the magazine-worthy view as Dalisay gathered their welcome packages. They turned in their chairs to follow the beamed ceiling as it soared into a steep raffia-lined pitch. Four large hewn trees, the supporting posts, stood like sentries at each corner.
Three of the building walls were open to the carefully sculpted landscaping. Around the floor areas, bentwood and rattan chairs, like those on which the sisters sat, were arranged in careful clusters, separated by tree-trunk tables polished to a natural sheen.
Serenity. This place oozes serenity from every pore. There is little that can disrupt something this peaceful, Finley thought as she surveyed the room.
The young woman returned ready to guide them on a tour. “Nimoy will take care of your bags while we orient you to the property and all that it has to offer. As I mentioned, my name is Dalisay, and I will be your guide throughout your stay.”
Whitt and Finley nodded and fell in step beside her.
“I understand that another guest will be joining you shortly. When she arrives, we will escort her to your villa. In the meantime, let me acquaint you with the resort.”
“Thank you. Her name is Charlie,” Whitt offered and joined Finley for the tour of the grounds.
By the time Finley and Whitt arrived at the room after their tour, they had already signed up for an afternoon yoga class to ease them into the spa life. They took a few minutes to investigate their space: a small house with three en suite bedrooms, a spacious sitting and dining area, and a large kitchen. Two sides of the complex—those that contained the sleeping and sitting rooms—opened out onto a balcony that was suspended over a leafy ravine. On one of the remaining sides there was a small swimming pool with lounge chairs.
Finley took in her surroundings. “Okay, this is not bad. Not bad at all.”
Whitt snickered before heading into her room to hang her clothes. “And it’s all free!”
No sooner had the sisters unpacked their bags than they heard a faint knocking on the villa’s front door.
“Charlie!” Whitt acted as the official greeter, pulling her friend into the entryway and pointing the way to Charlie’s room for the porter carrying her bag. “Did you just get in?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. And then I went through the greeting ritual. You would have thought as many times as I have been here, they would have dispensed with the formalities and just brought me to the room. In any event, I’m in the same yoga class you signed up for.”
“Great! We’re all set for activities today,” Whitt said as she watched her friend take in the setting.
Charlie walked over to the open patio terrace and breathed in. “This is what you come here for! Hear that? Silence! Absolute silence!”
A petite strawberry blonde, Charlie had been Whitt’s best friend since moving to the Philippines. The director of a no-kill animal shelter, Charlie had become like a second sister since Whitt’s wedding. In Charleston, she had gotten to see the sisters in action, when they worked to solve the mystery of a body found in the Airbnb in which they were staying. Now Finley watched her take in the tranquility that surrounded her, eyes closed.
She turned to give both Whitt and Finley a hug. “Now you may break my reverie. What time did you guys arrive?” she asked.
“Maybe thirty minutes before you did. The guys left at the crack of dawn, and Whitt and I lazed about with coffee on the beach until we headed up here,” Finley relayed.
“Have you guys unpacked? I want a walk before I deal with that task. You up for it?” Charlie suggested.
“Suits me,” Whitt replied.
“It’s been a tough week, and I need to decompress, if you guys don’t mind.”
The sisters quickly nodded, and the threesome struck out along the manicured paths that led through the grounds.
“Looks pretty quiet. I guess it’s still early, though. Most of the guests will check in tonight for the weekend,” Finley observed.
“Gosh! I guess it is,” Whitt checked her watch. “Only ten o’clock. The morning is still young.” Whitt pointed to a sign, turning to Charlie. “Let’s go to the waterfall! Do you know where it is?”
Charlie nodded and led the way. The path narrowed as they wound their way through the lush vegetation toward the falls. Fallen leaves and decaying palm fronds blackened the pebbles and coconut mulch that covered the way, lit only by periodic shards of sunlight that cut through the canopy.
They heard the rush of the water and felt the mist from the spray long before they arrived at the falls itself. As they came around a large boulder, the beauty of the falls met them full-face.
“Oh my goodness, this is spectacular!” Finley gushed, pulling her camera from her backpack and panning it across the verdant panorama, the shutter clicking the whole time.
Whitt and Charlie hung back as Finley approached the falls for some close-ups.
“Who would have thought you would have your own private falls tucked back here?” Finley moved forward, never taking her eye from the viewfinder or her finger from the shutter.
After shooting several frames, Finley shifted to look back at her sister and friend, who had ceased talking. She assumed they, like her, were silenced by the magnificent view.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Finley started to say. She stopped short.
The stunned looks on the faces of Charlie and Whitt said something else.
Finley followed their line of sight and finally understood their reaction.
There, on the surface of the pool, at the foot of the falls, half hidden in the flowering vines that covered the face of the waterfall, was the form of a young woman.
At first, Finley thought she was just floating on her back. But when she failed to move after several seconds, Finley realized what Whitt and Charlie already knew.
The poor woman was dead.
