Page 26 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“He made her more confident, more daring. He made her more... herself. Or at least the herself she wished she could be.”

—Julia Quinn, Romancing Mister Bridgerton

The weekly St. Claire Caribbean luau was spectacular and, according to the brochure in my room, one of the highlights that

guests most often mention.

I could see why.

Staff had transformed the wide patio that separated the pool from the sand with gazillions of tiny lights woven through the

trees and lanais; candles floated in the pool, which was underlit with turquoise. Tiki torches framed the paths from the main

lodge to the party. The sun hung low over the mountain but had not yet set, casting the most beautiful splash of pinks, oranges,

purples, and indigo across the sky.

I pictured having my wedding reception right here, on the beach, by the light of a hundred torches, the amazing scents of

steaming fish and barbecued steak making my mouth water.

Of course, I needed a husband to have a wedding reception. I didn’t even have a boyfriend.

The party prompted the early closure of all resort restaurants and bars. Six temporary bars were set up, plus the main pool

bar was open. It was a meet and greet, a celebration of the island. Endless food, drink, and a live band brought over from

St. John.

I stood at the edge, feeling a bit out of sorts.

The party was in full swing by the time I arrived.

Apparently every guest was here. Dozens of people I didn’t know mingled, groups of four and six chatting and drinking champagne or fruity beverages.

More people joined the groups as I watched. I didn’t recognize anyone.

Everyone was dressed in “island chic”—white shirts on the men, cute wraparound dresses on the women. Some flowered, some solid

colors, all highlighting sun-soaked skin. Jewelry sparkled in the flickering light, again making me wonder what was real and

what was fake.

I scanned for Jason and saw him at a temp bar across the way mixing what looked like a martini. His warm, sexy smile; his

confident movements as he shook, poured, placed the drinks on napkins; his easygoing vibe even as he quickly served the older

couple. My stomach fluttered—now I knew what the books meant by “butterflies.” He turned his head, as if knowing someone was

watching him. I attributed my heating blood to the warmth of the tiki lamp next to me. He caught my eye, and his smile widened.

Was he thinking about our almost kiss? Was he thinking about what might happen tonight? I unconsciously licked my lips; when

I realized what I’d done, I prayed he hadn’t noticed. After all, he was at least twenty yards from me.

Then he winked, and I knew that he’d seen, that he knew exactly what I was thinking, and it pleased him. He motioned for me

to come over; I walked forward as if he’d tugged on an invisible string.

I was almost there when a couple cut me off, and then I heard my name.

“Mia! There you are. Finally. ”

Brie grabbed my arm and pulled me away—away from Jason, away from a much-needed drink after a very busy afternoon.

I didn’t have an opportunity to protest, but I grabbed a glass of champagne from a roving waiter as Brie navigated through people until she found a vacant, partly enclosed lounge seat. I tripped and sat heavily on the pillow-strewn oversized chair, barely saving my drink from spilling.

“What?” I finally said.

“I’ve been dying to tell you what I found, but my dad insisted we have family time after the hike. Which was fine, because Sherry was getting

a massage—” eye roll “—so it was just dad and me. But this is big!”

I wanted to tell her what Sherry said to me at the spa but decided to keep it to myself for now. If my idea about Sherry was

off-base, I didn’t want to cause problems in their family. Instead, I asked, “What did you learn?”

She glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“First,” she said, her voice low but excited, “Trevor Lance is married. Second marriage. He dumped his first wife—the one he met in college and had two kids with—seven years ago for Krystal Kline, a bikini

and lingerie model. She turns thirty next month. He’s fifty-one.”

“I thought he was married, but—”

“ And ,” Brie interrupted, “Krystal is in Europe this week for a bachelorette party for her best friend. So he brings his mistress

here?” She looked at me meaningfully. “Anyway, I don’t think CeeCee knows, do you?”

It took me a second to catch up with her line of thought. I was trying to picture Trevor with a bikini model. He was nice-looking

for an old guy, but I never understood why smart, beautiful women married guys old enough to be their fathers. Except for

the obvious financial motivation.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. She’s smarter than she sometimes acts. Would it matter if she knew he was married?”

“Well, yeah , if Trevor killed Diana.”

“That’s a big leap, and a weak motive,” I said.

“Adultery is a great motive,” Brie countered.

“Even if she does know, I suppose he wouldn’t want his wife to find out,” I guessed. “Did you learn anything else about him?”

She shrugged. “He lives part-time in Hilton Head, South Carolina, and Dallas, Texas. He’s some big land developer, Lance the closest people

were fifteen feet away. I couldn’t hear them, so I hoped they couldn’t hear us.

“Shh,” I admonished. “Why would you say that?”

“You’re right. Gino was a cop. Eight years in Miami. There was an investigation into him skimming money from busts. He resigned,

but I think he was forced to resign. Maybe they couldn’t prove it, or they didn’t want a big trial, or whatever. But the crime blog I read was pretty

convincing that he was stealing.”

“And they couldn’t prove it?”

“Maybe he used it to buy drugs. Maybe he was keeping a woman in a fancy apartment, bought a Tesla, I don’t know. But if he

was stealing, maybe Diana knew about it.”

That seemed far-fetched. “That information would have come to light before he was hired as head of security,” I said.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s still suspicious.”

I didn’t see how something that was already known would make Garmon subject to blackmail.

“Do you know when he started working here?”

Brie thought on that. “He introduced himself to my dad when we were checking in four years ago.”

“Anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“The information is public, and he probably explained it away or passed the background check because there was no evidence, or maybe his boss gave him a good recommendation. That’s not enough to blackmail him. Wait—” An idea formed.

“What?” Brie leaned forward.

“If the police in Miami didn’t have evidence that he skimmed the money, but he resigned anyway, there may have been another reason. Did he come straight here from Miami?”

“No—there’s a two-year gap.”

“What did he do those two years?”

“Oooh, good question. I’ll ask—”

“No. Don’t ask anyone. He’s investigating Diana’s death.”

“Which makes him doubly suspicious.”

Brie’s confidence that Gino Garmon was a killer started to rub off on me. Maybe because he was a jerk and I got a bad vibe

from him. But we needed more than he might have been a dirty cop.

“You find out everything you can about him on social media,” I told her, “but don’t ask questions. If he is guilty, it could put you in danger.” I drained my champagne and asked, “Did you learn anything about Parker Briggs?”

“Not much. I didn’t really have the time. His family has a foundation, and Briggs is into all kinds of projects, like he funds

ideas or whatever.”

“A venture capitalist?” I suggested.

“Yeah, maybe?”

“Finance is my world. I’ll dig around.” It wouldn’t be difficult. I’d love to do it myself, but since I was on vacation and

didn’t have access to all my resources, I’d ask Braden. He wouldn’t mind a side project.

“So, what did you learn?” Brie asked.

I decided to share my confrontation with Sherry in the spa, but downplay it.

“I ran into Sherry after her massage,” I said.

Brie rolled her eyes.

“She thinks I’m trying to come between you and her because I have the hots for your dad.”

As I said it, I realized how silly it sounded and started laughing.

“Do you?” Brie asked seriously.

“No!” I glanced over at Jason. Brie smiled and playfully hit my arm.

“Teasing,” she said. “Sherry is all oh, we should go shopping and get mani-pedis and all that. Do I look like a mani-pedi

girl? And hello , I shop online. She only does it for my dad’s benefit. She can’t wait until I leave for college.”

“I also witnessed a confrontation between Amber and Gino. I don’t know what they were talking about, but Amber was looking

for a book—I think the book.”

“See? Gino again. He has to be involved.” She frowned. “Amber knows about the book?”

“Diana must have told her, but she doesn’t know what book—she saw me with it on the beach, didn’t bat an eye.”

“You need to keep it under lock and key.”

“I have it in the safe.”

“Gino is in security, and if he knows about the book, that’s the first place he’d go. Hide it where no one would think to

look.”

“There’s not a lot of places.”

We both thought.