Protector, Lover...Husband?: In the Dark / Sure Bet / Deadly Exposure. Heather Graham
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“Okay, the written word—no matter how it’s written.”
“Honestly, you don’t have to be so cautious. I didn’t come to do a simple review. I’m going to do a whole piece on the place.”
“A good piece—or a bad piece?”
“Good, bad…truthful.”
“We’re a good place,” she said.
His grin deepened. “Actually, yes, Moon Bay does seem to follow through on every promise it makes. That’s what’s important. A little mom-and-pop establishment can get a great write-up, as long as it delivers on what it offers.”
“Um, we’re not exactly mom-and-pop,” Laurie murmured.
“No, but so far, I’ve gotten a good bang for my buck, and that’s what matters.”
Laurie smiled. “That’s great. I love Moon Bay. It’s not just that I work here—I really love it. It’s a wonderful place for a vacation.”
“With the happiness and well-being of the guests foremost in everyone’s mind at all times?”
“Yes, of course…” Laurie murmured, looking down at her hands suddenly. Was that true? What if that hadn’t been a prank on the beach today? If Alex had been right, and a woman had been dead—and what if the killer had come back, aware that the body had washed up, and moved it?
“What is it?” She suddenly knew why Hank Adamson was considered so good. He asked casual questions; people gave casual answers. So casual you didn’t realize that your mind was wandering off and that you were about to betray your real thoughts.
“What is what?” she asked innocently.
“You were about to say something. Do you feel that maybe, just sometimes, management isn’t as concerned with safety as they should be? I’d never quote you by name.”
Laurie stared at him and smiled slowly. “Well…” She leaned on the table, edging closer to him.
He did the same, anxious to hear whatever dirt she had to dish.
She leaned back. “Sorry, I don’t have a bad thing to say about the place.”
Adamson sat back, as well, obviously disappointed. He shook his head. “If there was something going on…something big, do you think that the employees would get wind of it?”
“Like what? The president arriving, or something like that?”
“No…like Moon Bay being involved in…something.”
“Drugs? Here? Never,” she assured him.
“I wasn’t referring to drugs,” he assured her.
She laughed softly. “Illegal immigrants? Not with Jay around. He wouldn’t hire an illegal if his life depended on it.”
“Not illegals,” Hank said.
“Just what are you getting at?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I was hoping you did.”
“That makes no sense. This is a resort, specially licensed for work with sea mammals. What could be going on?” Other than a body that appeared on the beach, then disappeared.
“Have you ever heard of a woman named Alicia Farr?” Adamson asked her.
“Sure. She’s almost like a young, female Jacques Cousteau.”
“Have you ever met her?”
“Nope. I think she’s friends, kind of, with Alex. She’s worked with David Denham. I’m pretty sure Jay Galway has worked with her, too.”
“She hasn’t been here, then, in the last couple of weeks?”
“Not unless she’s been hiding in the bushes.” Laurie was actually enjoying her conversation with him now. She’d had a few Tiki Hut specials, but she always watched her drinking here. And she could stand up to a grilling by a man like Hank Adamson. “Is she supposed to be here?”
“There was a rumor she was going to be, but I guess it wasn’t true.”
“I guess not.”
“You’re sure she’s not here?” he persisted.
“There are private cottages here, twenty of them. Eight of them belong to the staff, and twelve are rented out. But this is an island. Room service is the only way to get food. There’s a little convenience shop in the lobby, a boutique…but, honestly, I think it would be pretty hard for someone to hide out in one of the cottages. Maid service is in and out, engineering…I’m pretty sure she wasn’t here. We’re off the Middle Keys, and there are lots of secluded places on the other islands. Maybe she’s on one of them. I’m sorry to disappoint you—were you really trying to get a story on her?”
“I am doing an article on Moon Bay,” he told her. “You know how it is, though. Lots of times, reporters get wind of a bigger story while they’re in the middle of something more routine.”
“So if you’d run into Alicia Farr here, that would have been nice, right?”
“It would have been interesting,” he said. “You do know what she looks like, right? You’d know her if you saw her?”
“Sure. I’ve seen lots of articles on her. And I’ve seen her on television,” Laurie said with a shrug.
She yawned suddenly, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.” She was. He was appealing in his lanky way, but he wasn’t interested in her—only what she might know. And she had no intention of telling him anything. She’d been ordered not to mention Alex’s certainty that she’d seen a corpse, and she wouldn’t.
She rose. “Please excuse me. Saturdays are very long here. People coming down from Dade County, locals who just like to come eat at the restaurant. The place is always busy.”
He had risen along with her. “Thanks,” he told her quietly.
“Sure. This place really is wonderful. I’m not lying, or just trying to keep my job by saying that. And Alex…well, there’s no one better.”
“So they say,” he murmured, then asked politely. “Can I walk you to your cottage?”
“I don’t rate a cottage—not yet,” she told him with a shrug. “I just take the trail back to the fork in the road and head for the staff quarters. I’ll be fine.” She grinned to take the sting out of her next words, moved a step closer to him, and whispered, “Feel free to go question another employee. You’ll find out every word I said was true.”
He had the grace to flush. She gave him a wave and made her way past two couples on the dance floor, both a little inebriated, but heck, they weren’t driving anywhere. If you were going to feel the influence of alcohol, this was the place to do it.
She could hear the band long after she had left the Tiki Hut behind. She started off thinking nothing of the night or the shadows, the trails were lit by torches—not like the ones at the Tiki Hut, which were real, but electrical torches made to give the grounds an island feel. Still…
Once the Tiki Hut was well behind her and the noise from it had dimmed, she thought the night seemed especially dark. Strange, because her dad had shown her once before how the glow that radiated from Miami—sixty or seventy miles away, still extended this far when the sky was clear. But clouds were out tonight. It was storm season, of course. They’d had several nice days in the last week, though, she mused.
Nice days. A few with calm seas, a few others when the water was choppy. But then, the water didn’t have to be wild to carry something—like a corpse—to the shore.
She stopped dead suddenly and instinctively, some inner defense aware of a rustling noise. She felt the hair rising at her nape.
She