Page 57 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

I showed Amber the words I’d found, and how each paragraph was about the treasure hunt in the book, which ended with finding

the treasure on a public ferry, so I suspected the documents were stashed on the St. Claire ferry.

She said, “That’s it. Diana is always doing shit like this. I should have known. But—those numbers weren’t in the book. Where

did you find them?”

“A page I tore out,” I fibbed.

“I knew there was something missing!”

Amber and I walked to the ferry, then repeated everything Brie and I had done—searching every box, every nook and cranny.

The documents didn’t magically appear.

“Someone got them first,” Amber whined.

“Or maybe she retrieved them on Sunday when she went to St. John,” I suggested. “She could have done anything with them.”

She was on St. John the entire day. Where else could she have hidden them, I wondered.

“I’m so screwed,” Amber groaned.

Diana might have hidden the documents, or planned to hide them, but ultimately had them with her when she was killed, and

they were now in the hands of her killer.

If Amber had been truthful, those documents could have gotten Diana killed. Not by Parker Briggs, but whoever she planned

to sell them to.

“Amber,” I said as we walked back to the resort, “I told you everything. We really need that video of Sherry.”

“I don’t have it. It’s on Diana’s phone, and I don’t know where the hell that is.”

“If I can get to her phone, can you retrieve it?”

“Sure, but it still doesn’t help me.”

“I’m not giving up, but we have to stop Sherry from marrying Andrew.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Do you have Diana’s phone?”

“I know where it is.”

“Give it to me.”

“I want the video.”

“Not until I get the files!”

We walked up the stairs to the second floor. Housekeeping was cleaning out the library after staff had stayed there overnight.

I glanced through the double doors and saw floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a huge nautical display for an ancient ship. Lots

of comfy chairs and couches, and a computer station on the far wall. Windows opened to a balcony and the ocean.

And something clicked.

I thought of the circled words.

score

child

rice

king

jewel

She didn’t hide them on the ferry; these weren’t context clues to the story. She intentionally circled these words as the clue to where she hid the documents.

Lucy Score. Lee Child. Anne Rice. Stephen King. Lisa Jewell. All popular authors. Authors who would very likely be in this

library.

Documents would be safe in a library. But where?

Amber was rambling, and I realized I’d fallen behind as I stopped to stare through the door. I ran to catch up with her. Brie

was standing outside her door. She gave me a subtle thumbs-up.

It paid to have a smart, techie teen as a friend.

We left Amber at her door, then grabbed food on our way back to my room. As soon as we were inside, Brie said, “You were right. She had the video on her computer. I sent it to myself.”

“She’s a liar,” I said, “so anything she told us is suspect. But I figured she had to have it because Diana would have shared

it with her. It wasn’t passcoded?”

“It was, but it autofilled because the computer was just sleeping, not shut down.”

“Did you delete the sent file?”

“Of course. She would have to be a computer genius to know I accessed it, and she’s not, so we’re fine. And even if she knows,

what could she do?”

“You didn’t look at it?”

Brie shook her head. “I started to, but I got cold feet. What if it’s not as damning as Amber implied? What if it’s worse?”

“Let’s watch it together.”

Brie brought it up on her phone. The video was a bit shaky, but mostly clear. A younger Sherry Morrison sat in a penthouse

with the New York City skyline behind her. There were bottles of champagne and wine scattered all over. Four young women could

be seen in the video, but more could be heard in the background. Sherry wore a Delta Gamma sweatshirt. She was very pretty—that

wasn’t in dispute—with perfect skin, big eyes, good bone structure, shiny light brown hair. The girl next door with brains

was the vibe she had, and I saw it now as well.

“When was this taken?” I whispered, though I didn’t know why I was whispering.

“December 31, five and a half years ago.”

So Amber hadn’t lied about that part.

Sherry was saying, “It was a good settlement, not great. Enough to tide me over until I reel Tom in.”

“Tom?” a voice off camera said.

“Tom Jorgenson.”

“The ex–football player?”

“He was interested when I was married to Bruce, but I had to play it cool. Flirt, but not enough to give Bruce the idea I was going to leave. Couldn’t risk my prenup.”

Giggling. The girl next to Sherry said, “I made sure my prenup had enough loopholes that I won’t lose as much as you did.”

A scowl crossed Sherry’s expression. Then she smiled darkly and said, “You were always the smartest girl in the house, Liz.”

Laughter from whoever was videotaping—likely Diana because I didn’t see her on the recording, and she had sent the video to

Amber.

“I’m actually having fun,” Liz said. “I might stick around for a while, as long as he continues to satisfy me in bed and keeps

an open bank account.”

Raucous laughter.

Sherry said, “Not me. After Monroe broke off our engagement so he could marry that little whore who stole him, I realized

that there is always something better out there.”

“Why Tom?” a woman asked. “He’s twice your age.”

“Not quite,” Sherry said with no self-awareness at all. “He wasn’t my first choice. I tried for Andrew Locke a few weeks ago—had

a mutual friend introduce us. But he has a kid, and the last thing I want is a teenager in the house, especially this one—he

worships her, and no way am I playing second to a little brat. Tom has two kids. They’re grown—no problem there. And when

I’m done with Tom, Andrew’s kid will be gone, and that’ll be the perfect time for me to slip in.”

“You have it all planned perfectly,” the video maker said in what I thought was a snide voice, but Sherry just laughed.

“Yes, Diana, I do. And after Andrew, there will be plenty more to choose from. Men are so easy to manipulate. It’s just a matter of finding out exactly what they want and giving it to them.”

She was drunk, but this video was damning.

“Oh, Dad,” Brie said, tears in her eyes. “I—how can I show him this? It’ll break his heart.”

“How can you not?”

Brie squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

I hugged her, and a minute later, Brie jumped up.

“Okay. I have to rip the Band-Aid off. But... alone. Because I don’t want her in the room making excuses, I don’t want to get in a fight with her.

I just need to show Dad and let him see the truth for himself.

Sherry has a spa treatment at one, but Dad went to St. John earlier to get something.

I don’t know when he’s going to be back. ”

“Go to the dock and wait for him.”

“What if she goes to meet him?”

“If you see her, call me. I’ll think of something—maybe ask Kalise to grab her for a fitting or whatever. Or ask Jason to

distract her.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know. What are you doing?”

“Going to the library. I have an idea about the documents, but I need to ponder it a bit more.”

“You think they’re in the library?” Brie asked.

“Yeah, I do. But I have no idea where.”

I first walked through the Blue Dahlia; Jason wasn’t there. I asked Callie for one of her yummy spritzers and asked, “Is the

Sky Bar party off because of the wedding?”

“Oh, no. Kalise refused to do that, because Mr. Locke and Ms. Morrison didn’t plan for a wedding when they booked the trip.

However, she’s a romantic at heart, so she’s setting up the Sky Bar to have the wedding an hour before the party officially

starts. All guests are invited, and they’ll have a special dance for them and everything.”

“Oh. Good. I didn’t want to miss tonight, I heard so much about it, and I’m leaving Tuesday.” I didn’t know if I was leaving

Tuesday—I might end up staying for the extra three days. I was trying not to think about it. I had responsibilities...

but I wanted to spend more time with Jason. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to make the decision.

I told Callie, “Jason said he was working up there tonight. You too?”

“Naw, I rarely work nights. Charlie will take the extra hours—his wife is pregnant with their first kid, so he needs the money.”

She put the spritzer in a to-go cup. “How’d you know?” I asked.

“You didn’t sit down.”

I thanked her and walked through the lobby and up the stairs to the second floor.

The library was empty. Good.

I pulled out my phone and looked at Diana’s writing, and the list of words that I thought for certain was a clue to the location

of the files. Slowly, I roamed the shelves, flipping through all the books written by these authors, and no papers fluttered

out to the floor.

But this felt right.

I looked again at Diana’s social media pages, willing the photos to reveal something to me.

The five photos that had no caption. They had to represent a book, the book where she hid the file.

I closed my eyes and put myself in Diana’s shoes. She liked puzzles and codes and secrets. What did the pictures tell me?

Something was on the edge of my memory. Something familiar.

I looked at the pictures again.

A photo of her painted toes—she had a tattoo on her ankle. A rose with thorns.

The resort.

A white dahlia with a wasp as the focal point. A wasp... that was important.

A skinny woman smoking alone.

The last photo, dark, trying to take in the entire island. The dock looked like a bridge from this angle.

Oh. My. God.

I had read the book only once because it was dark and depressing, but it had been one of the most popular books of its time,

and then a movie. It was the wasp that convinced me. Everyone remembered the dragon tattoo because of the title, but Lisbeth

Salander—a rail-thin antihero who smoked—also had a wasp tattoo.

I hunted for the book.