Page 104 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“That’s fast.”

“Way fast. That’s why I need you to break them up.”

“Brie—”

“Not seduce my dad or anything.”

“Oh, darn,” I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes.

“But she really doesn’t like you. Maybe we can find a way to make her explode so my dad sees her for who she is. I’ll think on it.”

I changed the subject and asked, “How do we find out if Ethan Valentine is on the island? Maybe his uncle Luis?”

Brie shrugged. “Luis is great, but he’s kind of... I don’t know, an odd old guy. He talks in riddles half the time. Kalise thinks he’s going senile. She worries about him.”

“I didn’t see signs of senility,” I said. I knew enough of my Grams’s friends and neighbors in her senior housing to know the ones who were just forgetful and those who showed early signs of Alzheimer’s. “Would Tristan have his schedule?”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Maybe we can access it.”

“Why?”

“If Ethan Valentine was here Sunday, Diana might have spoken to him. He may be the last person to see her alive.”

“You think he killed her?” Brie exclaimed.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t knowhim. But she went to hisprivate dock and then was never seen again. Maybe he was home and told her to get lost or get off the island because she violated his privacy. Or maybe he wasn’t home.” I thought a moment. “What do you know about how the resort office runs?”

“They don’t have a big staff. It’s Tristan, Kalise, and two others, I think, full-time in the office. Then security. There are three security officers on duty at a time, but they’re stationed in a different building.”

“We need information.”

“You want to break in.”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t believe I was suggesting something so... sneaky.

“Great idea. I’m in.”

“We could get in trouble.”

“Only if we get caught.” Brie jumped up. “Let me find out who’s in the office and when they leave, and I’ll text you.”

“I just want to find out Ethan Valentine’s schedule,” I said. “If he was there, then I think we need to go to the authorities and tell them about the kid who brought Diana back to the island. And if he wasn’t, I want his contact information. Maybe with all his resources, he can figure out why she went to his house.”

After Brie left, I dressed and headed to the Blue Dahlia. The crepes cart was gone, but I grabbed a muffin and coffee from the buffet, then sat down in the corner and reread my notes. I resolved to gather as much information as I could about Diana Harden and her book, then talk to Luis and Tristan and figure out if we should take the information to the reclusive resort owner.

On my phone, I scrolled through Diana Harden’s Instagram page. Diana hadn’t posted much from the island, only five pictures in the two days she was here. But they told a story. I just didn’t know exactly what story.

A photo of her painted toes while she lay on a beach recliner, the brilliant ocean beyond.

One of the resort—a rather boring straight-on shot, the resort looking like a mansion surrounded by trees.

A white dahlia in a vase, clearly taken in the bar, with the focal point a wasp in the center. It was the most artistic shot.

A woman smoking alone behind the resort. I couldn’t see her face, and the shadows hid details, but she was very skinny with short hair and looked like she was wearing a St. Claire uniform.

The last photo was taken at night, and it took me a minute to realize that it was taken from the end of the dock, facing the resort, trying to get in as much of the island as possible, but without focusing on any one detail.

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