Page 31 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“All the secrets of the world are contained in books. Read at your own risk.”

—Lemony Snicket

Jason sat with me on the patio while Gino and his security team took pictures and collected evidence. They found some fingerprints

that they would send to St. John. The fingerprints were likely mine. If I were going to toss a room, I would wear gloves.

Jason was a rock. After my initial shock that the book was missing, I’d cried until I realized nothing of mine had been damaged.

Then I became confused. How did anyone know I had that book—or why it was important? By the time Gino and his team arrived,

I was frustrated and angry at the violation of my space.

I’d told them that nothing was missing except a used paperback book I’d picked up for free in the gift shop. I didn’t tell

them I had hidden the book behind the dresser. I didn’t mention that the book had belonged to Diana Harden or that she had

written suspicious notes in the margins and I thought that she had been blackmailing people on the island. I didn’t trust

Gino. He had secrets, and one of those secrets could be murder.

Besides, he didn’t believe me. He questioned why someone would take a cheap paperback and not my laptop. So I kept my mouth

shut about my theory—someone had seen me with the book, knew it contained blackmail information, and stole it.

Tristan arrived shortly after Gino. The manager looked distraught and wore pajama bottoms along with a misbuttoned shirt that he’d rushed to put on.

“I do not know what to say,” Tristan began as he stepped out to the patio where Jason and I were sitting. “ Nothing like this has ever happened on St. Claire.”

Murder was worse than a B & E, but I didn’t say it since the narrative coming from everyone who worked on St. Claire was Diana Harden disappeared on St. John .

Tristan continued. “I have my best housekeeping team coming tonight to make this right.” He looked over his shoulder at the broken mirror and frowned.

Jason said, “Tristan, isn’t there another room you can put Ms. Crawford in?”

“Of course, if you would be more comfortable in the main building, I can get a room ready—”

“I’ll stay here,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Tristan looked concerned. Was he worried that someone with ill intent would return or that I would leave a

bad review on Trip Advisor?

“Yes,” I said. “I appreciate you bringing in people to help me clean up.”

“You will not do anything,” he said and put a hand on my arm. “I feel awful, just... I don’t know how or who or...”

“Tristan,” I said, “it’s okay.” He seemed genuinely upset, and I wanted to reassure him. “I don’t blame you or anyone other

than the person who came in here.”

“You are far too understanding,” he said. “Give me one hour. You will never know anyone was here. Kalise is right now creating

a new key card for you, so you can feel safe. Jason, can you stay with Ms. Crawford until we’re done?”

“Of course,” Jason said, his hand on my elbow.

When Tristan went back inside to talk to Gino, Jason said, “Why don’t you come to my place? I’ll sleep on the couch if you’d

be more comfortable.”

The offer endeared him to me, but I declined. “I’m okay. Just really mad.” Really, really, really mad. And a teeny-tiny bit worried. Who knew the importance of the book?

“I can stay here,” he suggested.

“Under any other circumstances, I’d love that, but I wouldn’t be good company right now.” I took his hands. Damn, I had been

so close to having what I knew—based on the way he kissed, the way he used his hands—would have been the best sex of my life. And

now the moment was gone. Maybe we could recreate the magic of the lagoon before I left, but right now I was fuming. The idea

that someone had been in my space, going through my things. Maybe it should have scared me, but instead of fear, all I felt

was anger.

“Are you sure nothing else was taken? Why would someone take a book and not your jewelry or computer?”

Because the book had information, information that might point to Diana’s killer. But I didn’t say that.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, feeling a tiny bit guilty I didn’t tell Jason the truth.

We sat on the patio and watched Tristan instructing a housecleaning crew. The security team left with Tristan, but Gino stood

in the middle of the room, observing. I watched him. He gave no hint that he’d been here earlier, but I didn’t trust him.

I shivered, and Jason wrapped his arm around me, taking it as a sign of me being cold and not creeped out by Gino.

“I’m really sorry this happened,” he said.

In that moment, I saw a flash of anger in Jason’s expression. Not once had he shown anything except calm and concern, until

now. I touched his shoulder. His muscles were tense. The anger wasn’t gone, just buried. This was a side of Jason I hadn’t

expected. There was fun Jason, romantic Jason, passionate Jason, concerned Jason. Now angry Jason.

There was far more to Jason Mallory than sexy, daredevil, fun-loving bartender.

I almost blurted out everything about Diana’s book, including my theory that blackmail was always a great motive for murder. Yet... I pulled back. Because I didn’t actually have proof of anything, even that Diana had written in the book.

But I wanted to tell him something, so after working through ideas in my head, I finally said, “I picked up the book at the

gift shop, and someone had written in the margins. Maybe the notes were important to whoever wrote them.”

His brows furrowed. “What kind of notes?”

I shrugged, feeling bad about lying to him. “They seemed like a personal shorthand. Some numbers and letters and doodles that

really didn’t make sense.”

“And you bought it here, at our gift shop?”

“It was on the free table. I left the book I read on the plane and picked that one up.”

At least I gave him some truthful information.

“Why wouldn’t the person just ask you for the book back?” Jason wondered.

Because she’s dead. But I just shrugged.

“You should tell Gino,” Jason continued. “It might help find out who did this.”

“He doesn’t believe me.”

“He does. He’s an ex-cop and suspicious of everyone.” Jason took my hand, kissed it. Leaned over, kissed me. “Are you really okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” I would be, when everyone got out of my room. “It’s still my birthday, so I was thinking about going on the sunset

cruise tonight, if you’re working it.”

“I am.” He smiled. He still looked worried, but a touch of his humor was back. “I’ll be done thirty minutes after we dock.

I have an idea of what we can do after the cruise.”

“So do I,” I said.

He grinned. “That, too, but something else. You’ll love it. I promise.” He kissed me again. And again. My tension drained

away.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said.

When the housekeepers were done, I thanked the women, and they left, followed by Jason and Gino. I double-checked the door and slid the security bolt. Then I made sure the glass doors were locked, closed the blinds, and fell face-first onto the bed.

I was exhausted.

I grabbed my cell phone on the nightstand to text Brie.

Then I stopped.

Brie knew I planned to hide the book behind the dresser—she had suggested it. Maybe she broke in and took it, but staged the

mess to make it look like someone else had searched, so I wouldn’t suspect her.

I didn’t want to believe it. I hadn’t let her see the book because I didn’t want her to read the information that might have

been about her dad and Sherry, so she had motive. But would she have broken the mirror? I didn’t see her acting so violent . The beach thief who tore out the page didn’t have motive—he’d already gotten what he wanted. Unless he thought there was

more in the book about whatever Diana had written about him?

Yet anyone Diana wrote about could have seen me reading the book on the beach and come here to look for it. Maybe Amber figured

out I had it.

I put my phone back down. The jury was out about Brie. I’d rather talk to her face-to-face than over text.

I stripped and took a shower. I didn’t feel unsafe. The thief had taken what he—or she—wanted. I still had my notes, but I

hadn’t written everything down.

I bundled up in a robe, leaned into the mound of pillows on my bed, and looked through my notebook. The first couple pages

were lists of books we were considering for book club and notes about books I’d read for when I recorded my video reviews.

It wasn’t until halfway through the notebook that I’d copied what Diana had written with my questions and impressions.

Brie knew where I’d hidden the book, but she also knew about my notebook.

Amber knew about Diana’s book, but she didn’t know I had it unless someone told her I picked it up at the gift shop.

.. or she saw me with it. Maybe Amber had enlisted Gino’s help, and that’s what their conversation had been about earlier.

Maybe he recognized the book. The person who tore out the page on the beach might have decided they wanted the whole book.

Or someone else who had more to lose. Someone who had seen me with the book and knew its value.

Finally, I turned off the lights and tried to sleep. I wished I had taken Jason up on his offer to stay. I closed my eyes

and tried to remember the lagoon, the blanket on the sand, kissing under the moonlight, how Jason had touched me, making me

feel as if I were the only person in the world...

Someone had stolen my book.

Dammit. I couldn’t even properly set up my subconscious for a satisfying dream.

I got up, turned on the lights, checked all the doors (again), and went back to bed with my notebook.

I looked at the numbers from the page the beach thief had stolen. I still had no idea what they meant, but if the thief had

the page he wanted, why come back and take the whole book?

Diana Harden was blackmailing not one person, but several. And the book was the key as to who she was targeting. And I’d lost it.

She had gone to St. John for a reason. I needed to know why. Had she gone to meet someone on St. John? If so, who? Someone

must have seen her, talked to her, known what she was doing on the larger island.

I pulled out my laptop and checked the ferry schedule. The ferry left St. Claire every three hours starting at 7:00 a.m. I

definitely wouldn’t be on that ferry, considering it was after three in the morning. I signed up for the next.

I didn’t know if I would learn anything on St. John, but it stood to reason that Diana’s Sunday adventure had something to

do with her disappearance and subsequent murder.

I flipped to the last page I’d written on, and I’d circled the number 77 and written: Is 77 Diana’s shorthand for Gino Garmon?

Why did that feel right? Because of the comments... or...

I flipped the page of my notebook and wrote out the alpha bet, then wrote numbers next to the corresponding letters, one through twenty-six.

G = 7.

Gino Garmon = 77.

Did that work for all the numbers?

I took the two most commonly written numbers, 112 and 2012. 112 could be KB or AL. AL... Andrew Locke. That number was

also on the page with Diana’s notes about a house in Arizona and his girlfriend’s dirty secrets.

2012 would then be TL. Trevor Lance... which would fit with what she wrote about a future deal, if she had in fact been

in business with him or wanted to be, based on what CeeCee had said.

Another number... 522. If I’d broken the code, that would be Ethan Valentine?

My heart thudded. I had deciphered Diana’s code. I still had a lot of analysis to do, and without the book to reference, it

would be difficult with only my notes and memory.

I went back to the list of five numbers that had flummoxed me. Maybe they referred to people as well.

11 = AA

19 = AI

157 = OG

52 = EB

210 = BJ

I couldn’t think of anyone I’d met or heard about on the island with those initials, but it was a place to start. Maybe I

could find a way to access the registered guest list, or a list of personnel.

My cell phone rang, and I stifled a yelp.

I grabbed it, didn’t recognize the number. Spam on an island. I almost didn’t answer, but spam usually didn’t come in the

middle of the night.

“Hello?”

“How are you doing?”

It was Jason. I smiled in the semi-dark.

“Sleeping with the lights on. Or, rather, not sleeping.”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I almost said yes. But I was tired, and I had plans tomorrow to figure out who these people were

and if any of them had a motive to kill Diana.

“I’ll be okay,” I said. “Thank you, though.”

“I talked to Tristan. He thinks someone wanted to intimidate you, maybe a mean prank.”

“I think—” I hesitated, wishing again that I’d told him more about the book “—maybe whoever left the book in your gift shop

just wanted it back.” That sounded lame.

“I told him about the book. Tristan will follow up with Trina in the morning.”

I almost wished he hadn’t, but maybe then I’d find out if Trina mentioned the book to anyone.

“I had fun tonight,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

“You mean tonight?” he said with a light laugh. “The sunset cruise is a favorite of mine. You’ll remember it forever, I hope.”

“Maybe if it was just you and me,” I said.

“Maybe before you leave, I can make that happen.”

My heart did a little flip. “Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Mia.”