Page 44 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“Being dead means never having to do anything sneaky.”

—Lawrence Block, Burglars Can’t Be Choosers

I was nervous. I had never broken into someone’s office before.

Brie led me through the main lodge. The administrative offices were in a one-story building south of the lodge, attached by

a portico. Two golf carts were parked under the roof.

“Wouldn’t a staff meeting be in the offices?”

“Too many staff. They’re in the library on the second floor.”

That stopped me. “There’s a library? Like, shelves with books and comfy chairs and quiet music?”

“Yeeeaaah.” Brie eyed me suspiciously. “It’s open to guests, except when they have staff meetings.”

“Wow.”

“Not now. I’ll show you later if you want.”

“I wish I’d known.”

“Focus, Mia.”

I redirected my attention to the administrative building. It looked closed.

“How are we going to get in?” I looked around. The main door was visible to anyone who walked by, from both the roundabout

and any of the south-facing windows. “Anyone could see us walk through the door.”

“Stop being so obvious!” Brie snapped. “Just chill. There’s more than one entrance. We’re going to walk by, then take the trail on the other side of the building to the back.”

“The security office is on that side.”

“They’re in the staff meeting too, except for one guy. As long as we don’t bring attention to ourselves, he won’t even notice

us.”

“And if he does?”

“The path curves around the back of the resort. We’re just going for a walk on this beautiful day.”

Brie linked her arm in mine, and I groaned. “I hate this plan.”

“Trust me.”

I didn’t really have a choice at this point.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as I realized I didn’t hear voices or laughter or splashing in the pool.

“Staff meeting. Told you.”

“No, like, everyone else.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a scuba lesson at the dock, and Kalise took a group hiking up to St. Claire Lake. But you’re right, it’s

quiet.”

“You seem to know everything that’s going on.”

Brie shrugged. “Like I said, we come here every year, and it’s not a big island.”

One person sat at a desk in the security office. He looked up when we walked past. I froze. Brie smiled and waved to him,

and we kept walking.

He waved back, practically blushing. He was young, couldn’t be more than twenty, I thought, and I noticed Brie had straightened

her spine and tucked her long hair behind her ear as we walked by.

Brie had more natural flirtatious charm than I did.

“You going out with him?” I whispered.

“No,” she said curtly, but glanced at him. So did I. He immediately looked down at his desk, pretending to be busy.

“He’s cute.”

She shrugged, then steered me to a patio attached to the administration building. Neatly trimmed flowering hedges grew under

the windows and vines spiraled up lattices attached to the stucco.

Brie immediately grabbed the knob and opened the side door.

“They don’t keep it locked?” I asked.

“Shh,” she said, and we stepped inside. The door swung closed behind us.

We stood in what appeared to be a staff break room with a couple tables, couch, refrigerator, and counter. As my eyes adjusted

from the sun to indoor lighting, I listened.

Except for the hum of appliances, there was silence.

Brie walked quickly through the break room and into the hall. The administrative building was completely open with a lot of

space around each large desk, and a central conference table that would sit eight. One office had a door in the back, and

that’s where Brie led me.

The door was open, but the light was off.

“You get the info. I’ll watch for anyone coming back,” Brie said.

“What if there are cameras in here and we’re already busted?” I whispered.

“I checked. There aren’t. I don’t know how long we have, so let’s go.”

She walked through the office and stood to the side of the main door so no one would see her if they approached.

Now or never, I thought. There was enough ambient light that I didn’t flip the switch, which might draw attention.

Tristan’s office was immaculate—a desk with neatly arranged file folders, a computer, and a phone. A printer on top of a short,

locked filing cabinet. His chair was ergonomically designed. I didn’t sit. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that if Brie

screamed, I didn’t know if I would hear her.

The computer screen came on when I touched the mouse. Thank God it wasn’t password-protected, because I doubted anyone under

fifty had a Rolodex anymore.

I quickly opened the contacts tab and scrolled for Ethan Valentine. I took a picture of the screen—his name, an address in

Miami, the address here for St. Claire, a phone number with a Miami area code, and an email. That was it.

I closed down that tab and opened Tristan’s calendar, hoping to find information about Valentine’s schedule.

Nothing referencing Valentine. I felt like a voyeur and closed the calendar.

A glance out the door showed Brie was still on sentry duty, looking nonchalant, like she might be waiting for Tristan to come back so she could talk to him.

How could I find out if Valentine was on the island short of hiking to his house? I clicked on the finder and skimmed for

anything that might be his schedule. Nothing jumped out at me. So I clicked on Tristan’s email and...

It was password-protected.

I was about to leave when I saw a file labeled Employees . I hesitated, then clicked it. Inside the file were files for each employee, last name, first name. I shouldn’t do this...

but I did. I found Garmon, Gino and clicked it open.

There were multiple documents including application, references, performance reviews. I opened his application and scanned

it. He’d left Miami two years before he started here. He’d been a private investigator for those two years... was that

a real job or a fake job? Because wouldn’t it take time to get his license and build his clientele? Did he not like being

a PI, or was it a temporary gig while he found something else? I took a picture of his references, closed the document, opened

the most recent performance review.

“Mia Mia Mia.” I heard Brie repeat my name in a low voice.

I looked up, and she was motioning for me to come.

I took a picture of just the first page that popped up, quit the program, and ran out of the office, panicked.

“This way,” Brie whispered, and we turned into the break room just as two people walked through the main door, chatting.

Brie opened the back door, and we exited. Brie turned right, away from the buildings, down the path that circled the back

of the resort.

“Shit,” I muttered. “That wasn’t much time.”

“Short staff meeting, I guess,” she said. “Did you get his schedule?”

“Couldn’t find it, but I have Valentine’s contact information. And was reading Gino Garmon’s file when you alerted me.”

“Anything?”

“He was a PI for two years before he got this job. I have his references. Maybe I’ll call them, see if anyone knows about

why he quit the force.”

As soon as we were out of sight of the buildings, I breathed easier. “That was way too close,” I said.

Brie giggled.

“And fun,” she said.

“Maybe for you,” I said, trying not to laugh. “My heart is still pounding.”

“Mine too.”

We cut through the back entrance of the resort, and I grabbed a premade wrapped sandwich from the buffet. There seemed to

be food available 24/7.

“I worked up an appetite,” I said, then laughed out loud.

“Ms. Crawford, Ms. Locke,” Tristan said as he approached us.

I froze.

He knew. He had cameras in the office. Someone saw us. He saw us. I was going to be kicked off the island before I solved this mystery or had sex with Jason. A double tragedy.

“Hiya, Tristan,” Brie said with a casual smile. “What’s happening?”

How could she be so calm?

“I was looking for Ms. Crawford,” Tristan said.

“Me?”

“I wanted to first apologize that you were made uncomfortable by another guest this morning. I have spoken to Mr. Lance, and

he is leaving the island tomorrow.”

“You didn’t have to send him away,” I said. Thank God he didn’t know that we’d broken into the office and accessed his computer.

“He was just worried about CeeCee.”

“Perhaps,” Tristan said, “but either way, he’s leaving of his own volition.

And to put your mind at rest, Ms. Tremaine is safe and sound.

She flew back to the States yesterday afternoon.

I haven’t spoken to her personally, but I received confirmation from St. John that she took a ferry to St. Thomas and then boarded a nonstop flight to Miami. ”

“And she didn’t tell her boyfriend?” Brie said. “Cold.”

“I will be following up with her personally to ensure that she is truly all right, but I know you were concerned, and I hope

your mind is at ease.”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, though I still thought it was strange for CeeCee to leave so abruptly. “It’s been a bit disconcerting

considering what happened to Diana.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely awful.”

“Are the police or your security any closer to finding out what happened to her?”

“They are still working on retracing her steps,” he said. “I don’t want to speak out of school here, because again I don’t

have confirmation from St. John, but she was spotted on the far side of St. John, in Coral Bay. Why, I won’t speculate. The

police will find the answers. They are diligent, if a bit slower than we would like.”

He sounded more confident than I felt.

“I’ll admit when I heard CeeCee went missing yesterday, I thought something might have happened to her.”

He reached out and patted my arm. “I’m so sorry. I promise here, on St. Claire, you are perfectly safe. I truly hope the police

find out exactly what happened so that our guests can rest easy.”

Brie said, “Gotta go, Tristan. Thanks.”

We walked to my cottage, and it wasn’t until we stepped inside that I finally relaxed. “Wow, I thought for sure he’d caught

us.”

“I thought you were going to spill everything,” Brie said. “You don’t lie well, do you?”

I shook my head. “So CeeCee went home. Huh.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“Her lunch with Trevor’s ex-wife,” I said. “And a couple small things she said that made me think she’s not the airhead everyone

thought she was.”

“And?”

“I don’t know. Something’s off there.” I shrugged, then said, “I thought for five seconds that maybe CeeCee killed Diana.”

“Really? Why?”

“Blackmail. But it doesn’t make sense because nothing I read implies that Diana had blackmailed CeeCee—it’s Trevor who’s cheating

on his wife.” CeeCee’s code would be 320, and I didn’t recall seeing it in the book.

I pushed CeeCee and Trevor to the back of my mind and looked at the contact information for Ethan Valentine.

“What do you think we should do?” I asked Brie.

“I guess the question is, what do you think Valentine can do?” Brie said. Smart question. I didn’t know.

Because Valentine’s schedule wasn’t on Tristan’s computer, we didn’t know if he had been on the island Sunday, though Luis

had said he hadn’t been at the house Sunday when Diana showed up.

“I’ll sleep on it tonight,” I said.

Brie raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re going to do? Sleep?”

I blushed fifty shades of red. “Eventually,” I stammered.

Brie laughed. “Go get ready for your hot date. I’m going to see if I can convince my dad to have some one-on-one time with

his favorite daughter. Maybe I can figure out a way to break them up. Don’t forget snorkeling tomorrow. Ferry leaves at ten.”