Beach Bags and Burglaries (A Haley Randolph Mystery) (22 page)

“Do you need this one, too?” Sandy asked, holding out another brochure.

“No, the problem is—”

I stopped, realizing that Sandy was offering me one I hadn’t seen before.

“What is this?” I asked, taking it from her.

“It’s the resort’s art collection,” she said. “Avery gave it to me before my art lesson with Colby, remember?”

The art catalogue had slick, glossy, color photographs and descriptions of each piece in the collection. I flipped through the pages, and my gaze instantly homed in on the photo of the two vases I’d seen on the high shelf in the library, the ones that were painted the same bright colors as the Sea Vixen beach tote I was dying to own.

Only these vases looked different. The handles weren’t quite the same shape as I remembered, and the colors were a couple of shades lighter.

Huh. That was weird.

“Haley, we’ve got a few details to work out for a new shoot location,” Joy said, appearing next to me. “Yasmin is going to change her outfit while we go to the stair hall and set up. I’ll have the florist, set dresser, and stylist meet us there. The hair and makeup people will come with Yasmin after she changes clothes and will be on standby.”

It sounded as if Joy had everything handled—which suited me, since I hadn’t wanted to be involved in the first place.

Jack and his partner were discussing transporting the pendant, Joy was on her phone while typing on her iPad, and the photographer and his crew were talking about lighting. I didn’t really have anything to add to any of those conversations—which was just as well, because I couldn’t stop thinking about the vases. Sure, the color might have been a bit off in the photos, but the shape of the handles? No way.

“Haley?” Marcie jarred me back to reality. “I need to talk to you.”

Something in her tone kind of scared me. I knew something bad had happened.

“It’s all over the Internet,” Marcie said, holding up her cell phone. “Another maid from the resort has gone missing.”

“Who?” I asked, but I was afraid I already knew.

“Tabitha Donahue,” Marcie said.

Oh, crap.

I
’d tossed and turned all night, worried about Tabitha. She’d gone missing yesterday afternoon, according to reports posted on the Internet. Of course, celebrity blogs and Web sites were having a field day with the story—the second maid to disappear from the Rowan Resort.

I hoped she wouldn’t be the second maid to turn up dead.

In typical fashion, nobody at the resort was talking. Everyone we’d asked had given the same story—the search was continuing, no foul play was suspected, and the staff was cooperating with law enforcement.

I figured the resort’s publicity department must be working around the clock these days.

“This is a cool room, huh?” Sandy said as we sat down to breakfast. “It’s the Renaissance room.”

“Looks more like Dracula’s castle to me,” Bella said.

I was with Bella on this one. The room was gloomy, thanks to the dark wood paneling, the open-beam ceiling, flickering wall sconces, and the huge stone fireplace.

The ambience, such as it was, didn’t help my mood. I was worried about Tabitha’s disappearance, of course, but now it looked as if there was no way I could get out of attending Yasmin’s wedding today. If any of her guests had decided that maybe it was safe to come after all, no way would they show up after learning about another employee’s disappearance.

Still, I clung to the tiny thread of hope that somehow Tabitha would be located—alive and well—and that I could find out who’d murdered Jaslyn in time for Yasmin’s guests to get to the resort this afternoon.

Yeah, okay, it was a very small possibility it could happen, but I was still holding on to it.

That’s
how much I didn’t want to go to Yasmin’s wedding.

“The stained glass windows were designed in Europe by a famous artist and constructed just for this house,” Sandy said as she consulted the resort brochure and gestured around the room. “They all depict Vikings at their evening prayers.”

“We’re going to need a prayer or two to survive this vacation,” Bella said.

“Nothing new to report,” Marcie said, glancing at her phone. She’d kept us updated on the search for Tabitha since yesterday afternoon when the news had broken.

The waiter appeared at our table, poured coffee and juice, and left a basket of fresh muffins before taking our orders.

I grabbed a chocolate chip—in the hopes of lightening my mood, of course.

“I know we’re all bummed about this thing with Tabitha,” Marcie said, and selected a blueberry muffin from the basket. “But we need to do something fun today. We’re on vacation, and this is a fabulous place. We owe it to ourselves to make the most of it.”

Marcie was right—Marcie was almost always right about things. Still, none of us jumped in with a suggestion.

“Well,” Sandy finally said, “the wedding is today. That will be fun.”

Nobody said anything.

“I’ll check the brochure,” she said, and whipped it open again. “How about a hula lesson? Or we could learn to play the ukulele. There’s badminton and croquet.”

We all just looked at her.

“Okay, then what about a yoga class?” Sandy said. “A meditation group meets on the cliffs. We haven’t done the wildlife tour.”

“I could use some relaxation,” Marcie said. “Maybe a quiet day on the beach?”

“Now you’re talking,” Bella said, helping herself to a muffin.

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed. “Are you in, Sandy?”

She thought for a few seconds then said, “I think I’ll schedule another art lesson.”

“And see Sebastian while you’re at it?” Marcie asked, smiling.

Sandy blushed. “Maybe.”

The mention of Sebastian’s name darkened my mood further. I was tempted to tell Sandy everything I knew about him, but this hardly seemed the time or the place. Besides, this day would be difficult enough for me to get through, thanks to Yasmin’s wedding, without adding to my problems.

We had breakfast and I felt a little better—thanks mostly to the tray of pastries we ordered. Sandy left for Colby’s art studio, and the rest of us headed through the hotel to get ready for our morning at the beach. Avery was coming down the stairs just as we started up.

“Haley, I’m glad I caught you,” she said. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, and told Bella and Marcie I’d catch up with them in a few minutes.

“Good news. Patricia told me the shop is expecting a large shipment of Sea Vixen beach totes today, and she is personally unpacking them and putting yours aside,” Avery said, looking pleased with herself. “So don’t become upset if you see more of them on our grounds, like yesterday.”

Yesterday I’d used the somebody-bought-my-bag-again story as cover after Avery had seen me coming out of the hotel room where Tabitha was working, in violation of the resort’s policy. Now, with Tabitha missing—and maybe dead—I didn’t feel so great about insisting Tabitha talk to me, even if I’d managed to distract Avery and send her on that trumped-up mission to find out what happened to my Sea Vixen.

Then it hit me—maybe I hadn’t done such a good job covering for Tabitha after all. Maybe Avery had gone back upstairs, into that room, seen Tabitha, and figured out that I’d been in there with her.

I got a weird feeling that morphed into anger.

For a while I’d wondered if Avery was responsible for Jaslyn’s death. She certainly had the motive, and could have easily found an opportunity. And now Tabitha had gone missing—just like Jaslyn—not long after I suspected Avery had discovered her violating the resort rules—just as Jaslyn had.

“Did you know that I was in that room yesterday talking to Tabitha?” I asked.

Avery drew back, a little confused, no doubt, by my question—or maybe it was the I-know-you-did-it tone in my voice.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s my job to know.”

“And now she’s missing? Just like Jaslyn?” I demanded.

Color drained from Avery’s face. “You think that I had something to do with Jaslyn’s death and Tabitha’s disappearance?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” I told her.

“No, of course not,” Avery said.

She glanced around at the hotel guests moving past us, then walked to a quiet corner of the lobby. I followed.

“How can you even suggest something like that?” Avery asked.

She looked totally confused, which made me think she was, in fact, innocent. But I wasn’t going to let up.

“Do you expect me to believe this is just some crazy coincidence?” I asked.

Avery drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly.

“Jaslyn was a difficult employee. I’ve told you that,” Avery said.

“And she created a lot of problems for you,” I said, “so you got rid of her.”

“Yes, she created problems,” Avery agreed. “But nothing that would cause me to murder her.”

“She kept going into the library when she wasn’t supposed to,” I said. “I’m sure your supervisors were on your case about her all the time.”

“Oh, Jaslyn and that library.” Avery huffed. “Always with questions about the art pieces.”

“Hang on a second,” I said. “I thought Jaslyn was unhappy about the library not being cleaned properly.”

“If only that had been the limit of her interference,” Avery said, shaking her head. “She kept asking where the art came from, when it arrived, how long it had been here. She asked about the provenance of each piece. Really, it was none of her business.”

“She was an art major,” I said. “She was interested in the history.”

“Which was fine,” Avery said. “But it wasn’t her concern, and it was disruptive. We have a highly qualified curator at the resort who oversees every aspect of the collection.”

“Colby Rowan,” I said.

“I told Jaslyn that Colby had all that information,” Avery said, “and that if she had questions, she should speak with Colby.”

We just stood there for a minute looking at each other. Finally Avery spoke.

“Do you still think I was involved in Jaslyn’s murder?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Or Tabitha’s disappearance?” Avery asked.

“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.

“As I told Walt Pemberton, I spoke with her in the hallway about not allowing guests into the rooms of other guests,” Avery said, and gave me a partial stink-eye.

“And after that?” I asked.

“I didn’t see her again. Nobody saw her after she left the hotel when her shift ended,” Avery said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

She left, and I stood there thinking about what she’d told me, how it might connect with Jaslyn’s murder and Tabitha’s disappearance. Both of them seemed like nice, sweet college students. Hard to believe that something awful had befallen both of them.

If only I could piece together just what the heck the two of them had gotten involved with.

I thought back to what Tabitha had told me yesterday and, really, it wasn’t much, just that Jaslyn was upset that Colby was leaving in a few weeks. The whole conversation had spooked Tabitha, and she’d made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone what she’d told me.

I got a yucky feeling.

Had that simple conversation with me somehow led to Tabitha’s disappearance? I didn’t see how, but maybe something else was going on.

I needed to talk to Colby

The beach that yesterday had been too
this morning
for the photo shoot made a perfect location for Yasmin and Tate-Tate-Tate’s wedding ceremony. The guests sat in rows of white chairs facing the reverend, who stood under an arbor, and beyond was the blue waters of the Pacific. Everything was festooned with pink floral arrangements and scattered with pink rose petals. Tate-Tate-Tate looked handsome in his black tuxedo, flanked by his groomsmen.

Luke was one of them. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him.

Guess he was telling the truth about being at the resort for a friend’s wedding, which meant that he wasn’t working undercover, as I’d suspected, and that he really had no inside info about Jaslyn’s murder, as he’d claimed.

Luke had told me the truth—but I wasn’t sure that changed the way I felt about him.

Jack Bishop and his security partner stood a discrete distance away—looking fabulous in their suits—keeping watch over the Heart of Amour pendant that would come down the aisle shortly with Yasmin’s bouquet.

I was seated with Marcie, Bella, and Sandy near the back on the bride’s side. The turnout had been good, though not the hundreds of guests Yasmin had probably wanted.

I sat a little taller in my chair and looked over the crowd.

Marcie leaned in and whispered, “Do you see him?”

Leave it to my BFF to know what I was doing.

Francine had told me that Ty—my former official boyfriend—would be here today, and Avery had mentioned that Ty had called the resort—I still didn’t know what that was all about—causing her to assume he’d be here.

I shook my head. “I don’t see him.”

“You know he’s late for everything,” Marcie pointed out.

We shared an as-long-as-he-doesn’t-show-up-with-a-date look, as only BFFs can.

The string quartet struck up “Here Comes the Bride,” and two little flower girls in pink dresses, the ring bearer in a white suit, and the attendants came down the aisle, followed by Yasmin. Her dress was gorgeous.

Sandy sniffed. I glanced over and saw that Marcie and Bella were teary-eyed, too.

While getting married was way off my radar, I couldn’t help but think about Ty and all the time we’d spent together, and where it might have led. I tried not to, but those thoughts kept popping into my head.

Part of me hoped he wouldn’t show up today, but another part of me—

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

The ceremony was lovely, and Yasmin and Tate-Tate-Tate made a beautiful couple. They gazed into each other’s eyes, totally in love, totally enamored with each other, totally lost in the moment. I decided that all the upset, headaches, and aggravation involved with putting together a wedding were worth it.

The reverend pronounced them husband and wife, they kissed, the string quartet struck up again, and the newly wedded couple walked back down the aisle arm in arm, followed by the families.

“The reception should be really awesome,” Sandy said as we rose from our chairs. “It’s in the grand banquet hall.”

“I hope they’ve got some good food,” Bella said.

“They’ll be a while with the wedding photos,” Marcie said. “Let’s head over.”

Some of the guests were already headed to the reception, so we walked along with them. Everybody was in a great mood, smiling and chatting about the ceremony.

I glanced back and saw that Jack was still shadowing Yasmin and her bouquet. Luke was talking with the other groomsmen.

No sign of Ty.

“We missed you at the beach this morning, Sandy,” Marcie said. “Didn’t we, Haley?”

I knew she was trying to distract me from thinking about Ty—best friends are great that way—which was, really, a good idea.

“Yeah,” I said. “How was your art lesson?”

“No lesson,” Sandy said. “Colby wasn’t available.”

“Maybe you can try again later today,” Marcie said.

“She’s leaving,” Sandy said.

“Where’s she going?” Marcie asked.

“She can’t be going on vacay,” Bella declared. “Living at this place is a vacation.”

Sandy shrugged. “She didn’t say where she was going.”

My senses jumped to high alert.

I’d heard that Colby was planning to leave the island in a few weeks, but she was leaving today? The day after Tabitha went missing?

A coincidence? Maybe. But I wasn’t big on coincidences.

“I’m going to check with Joy and see if everything is set for the reception,” I said.

It was the quickest excuse I could think of, and luckily no one questioned me.

“I’ll catch up with you in the grand banquet hall,” I promised.

Marcie, Bella, and Sandy waved as I hung back. When they disappeared into the gardens, I headed for Colby’s bungalow. When I got there, the front door stood open a few inches.

Tabitha flashed in my head—and not in a good way.

I knocked. “Hello? Colby?”

No answer.