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“Does he live on the island full-time? He seems too old to have a job.”
“He’s ancient. He doesn’t work here, though sometimes he helps out. He has full run of the place because he’s Ethan Valentine’s great-uncle. At least, that’s the rumor—Luis has never said anything, and if you ask him about Ethan, he just smiles and nods and ignores you.”
That surprised me.
“Luis lives in Ethan’s house,” Brie continued. “The big house on the cliffs to the south. I’ve never been there—it’s off-limits. I heard a couple hiked over there once, and when they came back, they were told they were no longer welcome on the island. Given a full refund and shipped off the same day.”
“That seems a bit excessive.”
“Ethan Valentine is a total recluse. Like, a nerdy hermit. Honestly? I don’t think he’s there most of the time, just comes and goes without anyone knowing when. He has a yacht and a helicopter, and Kalise said he’s a pilot, so he flies himself. Luis lives there full-time, has a golf cart he drives to get back and forth. At least, that’s what I’ve figured out over the last couple of years since Ethan bought the island.”
“And Ethan never comes here, even though it’s his resort?”
“Nope,” Brie said. “He’s at his house, or off the island. He runs a mega-company. Maybe not Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos super mega, but big.”
I hadn’t really thought about Ethan Valentine and how he owned the island. It didn’t seem important, but it was odd.
“Rumor is that when he bought the island, he wanted to shut down the resort,” Brie said. “Kalise and Tristan, who’ve both been here forever, put together a proposal to revitalize the place and presented it to his team, and Valentine watched the video and said do it. So Kalise and Tristan run the place. Kalise says it’s the best of all worlds—she feels like it’s her resort because Valentine doesn’t get involved in day-to-day management. When she wants something, she puts togethera proposal, sends it to him, and he gives a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. She’s never even met him.”
“I wonder if they told Valentine about the murder,” I mused.
Brie shrugged, then said, “What do you keep looking at?” She craned her neck.
“I’m not,” I said and almost blushed. Yes, I had been checking out Jason across the way. I couldn’t hear him, and I couldn’t always see him through the crowd, but every once in a while, the crowd parted and I could watch him work.
He was a lot of fun to watch.
“Oh. My. God. You’re hot for Jason.”
“No!” Now I did blush.
“Yes you are. You can’t stop staring at him.” Brie nodded. “He’s cute. Go for it.”
“Stop.”
She laughed. “You’re what, thirty? And a prude?”
“No, and no.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be thirty tomorrow, and I’m not a prude. Just selective.”
“You selected well. I approve.”
“I don’t need your approval.”
I didn’t want to talk about my sex life with a teenager.
“What’s our next step?” Brie asked.
“Hello, ladies!”
I yelped as Jason emerged from around the side of the canopy. Had he heard what Brie and I were talking about? He couldn’t have—two minutes ago he was across the beach at the bar.
Brie laughed and said, “Are those for us?”
Jason held two glasses of champagne in one hand and a plate of hors d’oeuvres in the other. He placed them on the small table. Shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, steak bites, cheese, and crackers.