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resort guests, and he’s like a magician on the water.”
Ivy’s cheeks had stained a light pink as she spoke about the kayak instructor, and Sarah guessed the young woman had a little more interest in him than a business referral.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
Pink turned to full-out red, and Ivy shook her head vehemently.
“No, no.” She sounded very disappointed by this fact. “But I wouldn’t say he’s the best just because of that. He really is very good.”
“And you like him? For more than his ability as a kayak instructor?”
Ivy hesitated, biting her lip, then nodded.
“Have you told him?”
“No. I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a little older.”
“How much older?”
“Twenty-six.”
“And you’re…?”
“Just twenty.”
Sarah took a deep breath. Numerically that wasn’t a huge difference, but she was willing to bet that in terms of experience, it was. By the way she was blushing, Sarah would lay odds that Ivy was as pure as the spotless white sheets she’d just put on the bed.
“Well, it’s probably just as well. Men can be more trouble than they’re worth.”
A small crease appeared on Ivy’s smooth brow in response to her statement. “Really? I bet you have guys asking you out all the time.”
Sarah shook her head. “Not really. I guess they pick up on the vibe that I give out.”
“A cop vibe? They don’t like that?”
“I don’t know if it’s that, but you have to be careful about men, Ivy. What you see is almost never what you get. And what you get is often a whole pack of trouble.”
Ivy seemed to have a hard time digesting that. “I should get going. I have to finish up. It was nice talking to you. Thanks for not being mad, you know, about the room.”
“Anytime. I hope we get to chat again. And don’t worry about this Jim guy. You’re probably too good for him anyway.”
Ivy smiled and closed the door, and Sarah lay back on the bed, feeling a little less irritated after talking with Ivy. The day hadn’t been a total waste after all; at least she’d been able to give some decent advice to the younger woman. Sarah wished someone had made certain things about men clear to her before she’d made some of the biggest mistakes of her life. If she could save girls like Ivy some of that pain, it was worth it.
3
LOGAN DIDN’T so much as move to rub his eyes, even though they stung from the bright blue light of the laptop screen that held his attention. The satellite Internet service that the inn used had been difficult to tap into. It was slow, and if it happened to be rainy or cloudy, he could forget it, but he’d lucked out tonight. The weather was clear, and every star in the southeastern sky was out—not that he was stargazing.
In fact, what he was looking at was far less pleasant. He’d discovered where Mel’s pictures had been posted from and after doing more investigating he’d found two other women from the same porn site who’d been reported as missing. They were from different cities, but they’d all vacationed in the same place, Virginia Beach.
It was the link he had been looking for. If his somewhat lacking computer skills and the computer connection he’d wired up would hold, maybe he could find those final pieces of the puzzle even sooner than he’d hoped.
He’d wanted to go to the same hotel Mel had stayed at, but that would have looked too suspicious. So he’d made some phone calls and had asked her family and friends to see if they knew more about her vacation plans, had received postcards, or anything of the sort.
He’d finally hit pay dirt—Mel’s best friend, a chatty woman named Terri, had told him that Mel had met some guy and had been excited about going on an offshore gambling boat. Apparently, the man she’d hooked up with was a high roller looking for eye candy, and Mel had been vulnerable after her breakup. Maybe the man was the one who could explain what had happened to Mel. Logan had tried to get a description, but Terri hadn’t had too many details.
Logan had an itch that this was the lead he needed. He’d heard of offshore gaming, operations where tourists were taken far enough out to sea that federal and state laws about gambling—and God knows what else—didn’t apply.
It was a popular business, and lots of tourists took advantage, not always aware of what they were getting into. Unregulated, many of the boats that promoted offshore gaming were suspected of being involved in the drug trade, as well as money laundering. So it was more than possible that one of them could be running a pornography operation on the side. And the Internet was the perfect vehicle to distribute their product, since the boats frequently offered online gambling.
Logan needed passenger lists and schedules, and he had to find out which boat Mel had been on. Clenching his jaw over the slow response of his connection, he waited, determined to be patient as he downloaded everything he could find about local tours available, their routes and schedules.
He didn’t have any proof yet, but his gut told him that he was on the right track.
SARAH FOUND herself wandering around aimlessly later that evening. She’d fallen asleep after Ivy had left, and though she’d had only a restless nap, she’d gotten up past dinnertime and was now completely awake with nothing to do. It was nearing nine o’clock and almost dark. She was hungry, and thought she would go and find some food. After a brief venture outside, she’d quickly slipped back in the door after being swarmed by mosquitoes.
Great. Just wonderful.
She poked around the downstairs of the inn, chatting with some of the guests, but most of them were couples who retired to their rooms shortly after she appeared.
Plopping down into a deep leather sofa in the main room, her spirits really plummeted when she realized that the TV offered only local channels, and local channels had next to nothing on. She really was in hell. If she hadn’t been stressed out before her vacation started, she would be by the time she got home.
She disliked being at loose ends, at night most of all. The daylight drove away most of her demons, but in the lonely hours of the evening, she usually had to work to keep her thoughts from eating her alive. Her mother used to caution that idle hands did the devil’s work. For the most part she’d left her devils firmly in the past; but at night, if it was too quiet, when the loneliness took over they still haunted her.
Crossing the room to the registration desk, she heard some murmuring coming from a small room to the back. Curious and looking for anything to do, anyone to talk to, she went in the direction of the voice.
An older man sat at a computer, swearing profusely under his breath. She recognized him; he was Harold Sanders, Karen’s husband. Harold was a polite and polished guy, and here he was swearing like a sailor. Computers brought out that familiar stream of colorful language in the best of people. He appeared to be at the end of his rope.
Sarah knocked softly, and he managed a small, polite smile when he saw her in the doorway.
“Yes, um, Ms. Jessup. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you—is there something you need?”
Sarah wasn’t sure what to say. Directing her eyes to the computer he sat in front of, hoping she didn’t look like an addict in desperate need of a fix, she tried to sound casual.
“Having computer problems?”
Harold emitted a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry. I must have been turning the air blue, eh?” He settled back in his seat, gesturing in disgust toward the desktop computer.
“This