Page 42 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

thinks he’s going senile. She worries about him.”

“I didn’t see signs of senility,” I said. I knew enough of my Grams’s friends and neighbors in her senior housing to know

the ones who were just forgetful and those who showed early signs of Alzheimer’s. “Would Tristan have his schedule?”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Maybe we can access it.”

“Why?”

“If Ethan Valentine was here Sunday, Diana might have spoken to him. He may be the last person to see her alive.”

“You think he killed her?” Brie exclaimed.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t know him . But she went to his private dock and then was never seen again. Maybe he was home and told her to get lost or get off the island because she violated

his privacy. Or maybe he wasn’t home.” I thought a moment. “What do you know about how the resort office runs?”

“They don’t have a big staff. It’s Tristan, Kalise, and two others, I think, full-time in the office. Then security. There

are three security officers on duty at a time, but they’re stationed in a different building.”

“We need information.”

“You want to break in.”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t believe I was suggesting something so... sneaky.

“Great idea. I’m in.”

“We could get in trouble.”

“Only if we get caught.” Brie jumped up. “Let me find out who’s in the office and when they leave, and I’ll text you.”

“I just want to find out Ethan Valentine’s schedule,” I said. “If he was there, then I think we need to go to the authorities

and tell them about the kid who brought Diana back to the island. And if he wasn’t, I want his contact information. Maybe

with all his resources, he can figure out why she went to his house.”

After Brie left, I dressed and headed to the Blue Dahlia.

The crepes cart was gone, but I grabbed a muffin and coffee from the buffet, then sat down in the corner and reread my notes.

I resolved to gather as much information as I could about Diana Harden and her book, then talk to Luis and Tristan and fig ure out if we should take the information to the reclusive resort owner.

On my phone, I scrolled through Diana Harden’s Instagram page. Diana hadn’t posted much from the island, only five pictures

in the two days she was here. But they told a story. I just didn’t know exactly what story.

A photo of her painted toes while she lay on a beach recliner, the brilliant ocean beyond.

One of the resort—a rather boring straight-on shot, the resort looking like a mansion surrounded by trees.

A white dahlia in a vase, clearly taken in the bar, with the focal point a wasp in the center. It was the most artistic shot.

A woman smoking alone behind the resort. I couldn’t see her face, and the shadows hid details, but she was very skinny with

short hair and looked like she was wearing a St. Claire uniform.

The last photo was taken at night, and it took me a minute to realize that it was taken from the end of the dock, facing the

resort, trying to get in as much of the island as possible, but without focusing on any one detail.

The one oddity was that all the pictures had been posted the same day—Sunday. But that didn’t mean she’d taken them on the

day she disappeared.

None of the pictures were captioned, so no clues there. I guess it’s supposed to be artistic to just post a picture without

captions or hashtags, but it was annoying when I needed more clues as to who Diana was blackmailing—and where she’d hidden

the documents that Amber and Parker were looking for.

I looked around the bar, and it took a minute, but I found the vase that was in Diana’s photo. I inspected it. Maybe she left

clues in these locations? I picked up the vase; it was heavier than it appeared. Nothing underneath—no writing, paper, message

of any kind. I put it back down. Either I was way off track, or Amber had already found any message Diana had left.

“Lose something?”

I jumped, whirled around, and put my hand to my heart. “Luis! You startled me.”

He grinned. “Sorry. Come have a drink with me?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Island time,” he said, and I followed him to the bar.

Callie came over and said, “What can I get you, Luis?”

“Coffee with a splash of Jack, por favor.”

Callie put a mug on the bar, filled it with rich-smelling coffee, and poured Jack Daniel’s into an oversized shot glass. She

smiled at me. “Same?”

“Just the coffee, with sugar.”

Callie placed a steaming mug in front of me, and I savored the smell before I sipped.

Luis’s “splash” was the entire shot.

Maybe I wouldn’t have to sneak around the office if I could get Luis to talk.

Keeping my voice low, I asked, “I have a couple questions?”

Why was I so nervous?

“I might have answers,” he said with a smile.

“Well, I, um.” I cleared my throat. “I was curious if you had a run-in with Diana Harden. The guest who ended up killed?”

That sounded so bad.

“A run-in? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well—when I went to St. John yesterday, I uncovered some information that I don’t think the police know.”

“Oh?”

I couldn’t tell if he was just being polite or was really interested.

“I found a boy who said he brought Diana to Ethan Valentine’s dock on Sunday evening. Around sunset.”

“Aww. I see.”

But he didn’t elaborate. So I continued. “Ethan Valentine is your great-nephew?”

“Yes, that he is.”

“I was reading a book the other day, the book someone took from my room. Someone—I think Diana—had written in the margins, and there was a reference to you being nosy. She wrote it, not me!” I added quickly.

He laughed, and I was relieved I hadn’t insulted him.

“Yes, I see why she might think so.”

But again he didn’t elaborate.

“And, well, because Diana went to Valentine’s dock, I wondered if you had seen her. Or maybe Mr. Valentine is on the island.”

“Mr. Valentine.” Luis laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, my dear boy Ethan.”

Odd comment. “Was he at his house Sunday night? Maybe... well, I’m not insinuating anything, just that he might know something.”

“He wasn’t home,” Luis said. “But I saw Ms. Diana.”

“You did?” That shouldn’t surprise me, since Brie said Luis lived in Ethan’s house on the cliffs. But why didn’t the police

know?

“Yes. She walked up the stairs. I said hello. She wasn’t very nice. She pounded on the door, and I said no one was home. She

did not take the information well and left.”

“But you were there,” I said, partly confused.

“Yes, I was enjoying the sunset from the deck. Maybe you can join me one night before you go. There is no better view on the

island, and this island has many beautiful views.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said. I bit my lip. “Did you tell anyone that you saw Diana that night?”

“Of course.”

When he didn’t say anything else, I prompted, “The police?”

“Police? No. No one asked. I didn’t really think about it until after her body was found. Then I told Gino, of course.”

Had Gino told St. John police? Why would he, if he was the one who killed her? Most of the evidence against Gino was barely

circumstantial; this was damning.

Trevor Lance rushed into the bar. He looked exhausted, and also angry.

He immediately came over to me. “Mia, right?” he demanded.

“Yes,” I said automatically.

“Where’s CeeCee?”

He encroached so far into my space I saw the vein pulsing in his neck.

“I—I don’t know?”

“Do you or don’t you? You went to St. John with her yesterday, and she never came back. What happened?”

My mouth opened, but I had no words.

Callie came over. “Mr. Lance, can I get—”

He put his hand up to silence her. That rude gesture settled my nerves. “Trevor,” I said, “I did not go to St. John with CeeCee. We were on the same ferry. That’s it.”

“She told me you two were going shopping and having lunch and would be back late. That was fine because I had work to do.

But she never came back. The captain said she didn’t return, and I swear, if you don’t tell me where she is, I’ll—”

Jason came up behind me and put his hand out, effectively forcing Trevor to take a step back. “Tristan told me that he’s in

contact with St. John police,” Jason said. “Gino, our security chief, is retracing her steps. We’ll find her.”

“Like you found Diana Harden?” Trevor snapped.

He was more angry than worried, I realized.

“Did you and CeeCee have an argument?” I asked before I realized I’d opened my mouth to speak.

Both Jason and Trevor stared at me, surprised that I’d asked.

“We have not, though that’s not your business.”

“Then why are you so angry? Maybe you should go to St. John to look for her.”

He reddened. “You have some explaining to do—”

“Ms. Crawford doesn’t owe you anything, Mr. Lance,” Jason said firmly. “You will back off, and if you have any questions,

speak with Tristan.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to hit Jason. Then he stormed off.

Jason said to Callie, “Call Tristan. Tell him what just happened.”

She nodded and got on the phone.

He looked at me, his green eyes clouded with concern. “You okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

I shook my head. “What happened? Is she really missing?”

“I don’t know the details. Tristan has been on the phone with everyone he can think of today. You were friendly with her?”

“We talked a couple times. She was outgoing and very nice.” I bit my lip.

“What are you thinking? Did she say something? Did Lance hurt her?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. But—yesterday I was on a bike taxi getting a, um, tour around the island,” I fibbed, “and

I saw her having lunch with a woman who I think is Trevor’s ex-wife.”

Jason looked confused. Then his eyes narrowed. “How certain are you?”

“I saw an older photo. Brie and I were being nosy about Trevor and CeeCee and looked him up. I’m almost positive it was her.”

“I’ll tell Tristan. You don’t have to be in the middle of this.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You’re shaking.”

“That was just so unexpected. I’m better now.”

“It was completely out of line. He won’t be allowed back.”

“Must be nice that Tristan trusts your opinion.”

Jason smiled. “I’m a good judge of character. But management listens to employees. It’s something I appreciate. Otherwise

I might not have stayed here so long.” He kissed me. “You sure you’re okay?”

He kissed me in public. At the bar. Where everyone could see. He wasn’t worried about getting in trouble with management?

“Yeah,” I said, not quite knowing what to make of this. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

“Me, too.” He kissed me again. “I’m going to help Tristan and Gino find CeeCee, and let Tristan know who she had lunch with.

I don’t know if it matters, but we’ll get to the bottom of it. Six tonight. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t,” I said, and smiled as he left.

I turned, expecting Luis to still be sitting on the stool, but he was gone.

I asked Callie, “Where did Luis go?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t notice. Probably going down for his late morning nap.” She smiled. “He really just comes and goes.

Sometimes I don’t see him for days. Other times he sits under a tree for hours at a time. He’s odd, but I really love him.

St. Claire wouldn’t be the same without Luis.”