Beach Bags and Burglaries (A Haley Randolph Mystery) (3 page)

S
o far, sticking to our no-men pact hadn’t been a problem for me. I had yet to spot one young, good-looking guy at the Rowan Resort—just a lot of old, gray-haired, pot-bellied geezers who were, I guess, mostly the kind of men who could afford this place.

But that suited me fine, because I didn’t want anything to do with men during my vacation. In fact, I much preferred it if I didn’t see one single, handsome guy anywhere near my target age range.

Luckily, the two detectives across from me were firmly in the undesirable-old-guy category, both of them easily a minus ten on my own personal luscious-o-meter.

I was sitting in yet another this-place-looks-like-a-boring-museum room on the hotel’s first floor, in front of a huge desk that was probably way older than me and all my friends put together. After finding Jaslyn Gordon’s body, I’d come back to the hotel, spotted Avery in the lobby, and given her the news. She hadn’t seemed all that surprised—I guess Rowan Resort employees are trained to roll with anything. She’d made some phone calls, and I’d ended up in this room with these two homicide detectives who wanted to talk to me, which didn’t really suit me.

I’m not supposed to be dealing with this kind of thing. I’m on vacation.

They’d introduced themselves as Detectives Vance and Pearce. They looked like a set of really unattractive bookends. Both had gray hair, spreading middles, and questionable taste in their coat–tie–shirt combos.

“So, Miss Randolph, do you want to tell us how this happened?” Detective Vance asked.

Homicide detectives always spoke in a way that made you feel guilty—even if you hadn’t done anything. But I was wise to their ways. I’d been in this situation before—long story, no, actually, lots of long stories—and I wasn’t about to fall for their tactics.

“I went for a walk, and I spotted Jaslyn Gordon’s body on the rocks near the beach,” I said.

“So you knew the victim?” Detective Pearce asked, as if he’d just made a major breakthrough in the case.

“I didn’t know her,” I said. “But who else could it have been? I mean, jeez, how many people are missing on this island?”

Both of them frowned like two pug dogs in the same litter.

I don’t think they appreciated my commentary.

I could have pointed out that I’d had experience solving murders—with help from L.A. homicide detective Shuman and private detective Jack Bishop, both of whom looked way hotter than these two guys—but this didn’t seem like a good time to mention it.

“Why were you in that area of the island?” Detective Pearce wanted to know.

Why was I still being questioned? It’s not like I was wearing a T-shirt that read
I’VE SOLVED MURDERS, LET’S TALK ABOUT IT
.

“It’s isolated,” Detective Vance said. “There was no reason for you to be out there.”

“Or was there?” Detective Pearce asked, leaning toward me with a you-can-confess-now look on his face.

As alibis go, I doubted that my I-was-trailing-a-fabulous-beach-tote was a good one so, really, what could I do but ignore their question?

“Look,” I said. “I was out for a walk. That’s it. I wanted to see the island, so I—”

The door opened behind me, and the two detectives jerked their heads up to see who had interrupted their interrogation. Seeing this as a possible opening to escape, I turned too and caught a glimpse of a guy ducking out of the room, as if he entered by mistake.

Hang on a minute.

Was that—?

My senses jumped to high alert. My heart started to pound. My thoughts raced trying to match the glimpse I’d gotten to a person I knew.

Tall, rugged build, maybe thirty, dark brown hair, green eyes, really handsome.

Then it hit me. Oh my God.
Oh my God
. Luke Warner.

Luke was an FBI agent. He’d been working undercover on a case in the L.A. Garment District a few months ago. I was there too, looking for the same murderer. Something had definitely sparked between us—long story—but I’d put an end to it after he—

I’m not thinking about that now. I’m on vacation.

But was that really Luke I’d seen coming into the room? Or had my no-men thoughts conjured up a hot guy from my past?

And if it was Luke, what was he doing here? Why would the FBI be involved?

“Miss Randolph,” Detective Pearce said, “if you’re not willing to cooperate with us during this interview, we can always go to the station.”

Okay, now I was a little ticked off. I didn’t like being threatened—and I didn’t like thinking about Luke Warner.

“Look,” I said. “I went for a walk. I found a body—something that, apparently, you police hadn’t been able to do after searching for two days.”

They both drew back a little, which was kind of nice.

Then it hit me that I’d be better off just answering their questions so I could get this so-called interview over with quickly. If I gave them too many problems they might decide to investigate
me
—which would lead them to L.A. homicide detective Madison, Shuman’s partner, who had tried, and failed, numerous times to find me guilty of
something
. Plus, I didn’t want to be stuck in this room so long that my BFFs started to wonder where I was and ask questions. I really didn’t want anyone to know I’d discovered a murder victim.

It might spoil our vacation.

I mean that in the nicest way.

And, of course, I needed to get back to my search for the Sea Vixen—plus, a Snickers bar or two would go a long way toward boosting my day right now.

“So, that’s it. I went for a walk, spotted the body, and reported it. That’s the sum total of my involvement,” I said, and rose from my chair. “If you have any more questions, you can contact my lawyer.”

I gave them my pageant queen mom’s I’m-better-than-you glare—which wasn’t easy for me to pull off, especially since I didn’t actually have a lawyer—then whipped around and left the room.

In the hallway I saw no sign of Luke—if it really was Luke—which annoyed me. And I was annoyed further that I’d thought about him and maybe it wasn’t even
him
, which made no sense either, but there it was.

I drew a deep breath, forcing my thoughts onto my no-thinking-about-men policy for this vacation. It was proving harder than I imagined. Maybe I needed a distraction.

The image of massive amounts of chocolate floated through my brain. Jeez, what was I waiting for?

I headed down the corridor, sure that a gift shop or snack bar had to be here somewhere, and heard someone call my name.

Immediately, my own personal interpretation of the Holt’s Department Store customer service training kicked in and I walked faster—too bad that outdistancing customers who might want help wasn’t an Olympic event; I’d have the gold for sure.

“Haley?” Avery jogged up beside me.

Wow, these Rowan employees must be really dedicated. She’d moved pretty fast.

Maybe she’d worked retail.

“Oh, hi, Avery,” I said, as if I hadn’t heard her call my name six times.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” she asked.

I followed her to a little alcove.

“Please allow me to apologize for the ... unpleasantness you’ve endured since your arrival,” Avery said.

I guess
unpleasantness
was code for
finding-a-dead-body
here at the Rowan Resort.

Avery seemed kind of nervous—and a heck of a lot more upset than I was.

“Let me assure you that this sort of thing never happens here.” Avery drew a quick breath and straightened her shoulders. “It’s understandable if you and your friends want to leave, but I hope you’ll stay. Rowan Resort will do everything possible to ensure that the remainder of your stay exceeds your wildest expectations.”

I figured that someone up the management chain had decided it would be Avery’s fault if four guests departed prematurely—a story bloggers and tabloids would pick up on and spin into something bigger than it actually was. If that happened, the resort’s reputation would take a major hit—not to mention the celebrity cancellations they might get.

I didn’t like the way detectives Vance and Pearce had been giving me stink-eye. While I had no intention of leaving because of them, I figured the quicker the investigation was wrapped up, the better it would be—for me, of course—so I saw no reason not to take advantage of the situation.

“Do the detectives think Jaslyn was murdered?” I asked, and managed to use my gee-I’m-worried-a-killer-is-on-the-loose voice.

Avery glanced up and down the corridor, then leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I overheard the detectives say that it didn’t appear Jaslyn had been attacked. They think she’d been climbing on the rocks, then fell and struck her head.”

The detectives thought it was an accident? An accident? How could that be?

“What about her cell phone and driver’s license that was found on the opposite side of the island, up on the cliffs?” I asked.

“They believe she accidentally left them,” Avery said. “The detectives don’t know how long they were lying there.”

Okay, well, that made sense. Kind of.

“So, you see,” Avery said, “the whole incident, while very upsetting, was probably just an accident.”

A few seconds passed, then I asked, “Do you really think that?”

I guess my words sounded sincere, because Avery’s shoulders slumped a little and she said, “I don’t know what to believe.”

“Why wasn’t Jaslyn found sooner?” I asked.

“I don’t understand it. The entire island had been thoroughly searched immediately upon realizing she was missing.” Avery shook her head. “I can’t imagine why she was out there in the first place.”

A great reason zapped me immediately.

“Maybe she was hooking up with someone,” I said.

I didn’t think that end of the island was a good spot for a hookup. The hills behind the hotel offered much more seclusion and privacy.

Not that I’d ever do that, of course.

“Many of our employees are college students who work here during their school breaks. Dating is frowned upon,” Avery said.

Just because a fling was against the rules didn’t mean it never happened.

Not that I’d know anything about that.

“In fact, it’s cause for termination,” Avery said.

Ignore a corporate directive?
Who
would do such a thing?

“Jaslyn wasn’t the type to get romantically involved,” Avery said.

But if the guy was really hot?

No comment.

“She was more interested in finishing college and starting her career,” Avery said. “I saw her studying to get a jump on her upcoming classes.”

Okay, that was weird.

It was weird too that Avery seemed to know so much about one of the hotel maids.

“Were you two friends?” I asked.

“We work in teams here at the resort, to maximize guest satisfaction,” Avery said. “Housekeeping and room service report any special needs to me so I’m aware of guest preferences. Jaslyn was one of my team members.”

“You monitor what every guest orders and how they use their rooms?” I asked.

“That’s the level of service we provide our clientele,” Avery said. “It’s one of the reasons they return to our resort.”

So, as a maid, Jaslyn knew the intimate details of the lives of the rich and famous. And so did Avery.

Huh. Something to think about.

“Please, Haley, let me know if there’s anything you need,” Avery said, switching back to I-really-want-to-keep-my-job mode. “Anything at all, any time of the day or night.”

Avery left, and I headed down the corridor again in a desperate search for something chocolate. As I passed the room the detectives had used for my interview, I saw the door was open and inside a half-dozen men wearing off-the-rack suits were standing in a circle, talking. Detective Pearce cut his gaze to me. I shot him serious stink-eye and kept walking.

At the end of the corridor I found a snack shop, a small place with refrigerated cases of sodas and water, a coffee bar, baked goods, and all sorts of treats. French doors led outside to tables and chairs.

The place smelled great, and immediately I was hit with a major craving for my all-time favorite drink, a mocha Frappuccino, from my all-time favorite spot, Starbucks. I didn’t know how I’d get through this entire week without one—or more.

But thanks to the Rowan Resort’s all-inclusive policy I could have anything I wanted—including mass quantities of chocolate—so I figured I could manage. I grabbed a Snickers bar and two bags of M&M’s, swiped my resort pass, and I headed outside.

I had the maze of walkways between the hotel and bungalows mostly to myself, so I wandered through the fountains, trees, flowers, and shrubs enjoying the fantastic California weather and, of course, the candy. By the time I’d finished off the Snickers and one bag of the M&M’s, the chocolate had given my brain a huge boost and Jaslyn Gordon loomed large in my head.

If Jaslyn wasn’t the type of girl to hook up for the romantic fling, as Avery had claimed, and if she really was interested in studying to get a jump on her upcoming classes—which still seemed really weird to me, since I wasn’t exactly thrilled by my own slow plod toward a college degree—then maybe she was on that secluded end of the island thinking that the view from atop the rocks might jazz up whatever totally boring subject she was reading about. But when I’d discovered her body I hadn’t seen a backpack, notebook, laptop, iPad, or even a textbook.

According to the info I’d read on the Internet about Jaslyn’s disappearance, she’d gone missing yesterday. Security personnel from the resort had searched the island and, finding nothing, had called for backup. Still nothing.

I couldn’t understand how the search parties had missed her. I mean, jeez, I hadn’t even been looking and I’d stumbled over her body. And why had her cell phone and driver’s license been found just today? Surely they’d looked on the cliffs yesterday. How could they have missed them?

I finished off the last bag of M&M’s as I wandered past the line of vine-covered bungalows, and the Sea Vixen beach bag flashed in my head. Where the heck was that woman I’d seen earlier with the bag? I’d trailed her through the courtyard, then lost her. I wondered again if she was staying in one of the bungalows.