Page 130 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

The skinny teenager I confronted yesterday.

“But—” I began, and Tristan cut me off.

“I don’t know if I believe it, but I couldn’t find him yesterday after I spoke to you, and when I went to his apartment, he wasn’t there. Eli said he’d gone to St. John on the evening ferry, so I asked Gino to look for him, just to talk to him. When Gino searched his room, he found Ms. Harden’s cell phone.”

“What would be his motive?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know,” Tristan said, his face pinched with worry. “She was a disagreeable guest. Maybe he thought she’d have him fired. She complained about several staff members during her short time on the island, though I didn’t field a complaint about him specifically.”

“Who?” Jason said again.

Tristan didn’t look like he wanted to say, but cleared his throat, put his head up, and said, “Georgie Arendt.”

“Georgie?” Jason shook his head. “He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I’m only telling you what we know right now. Maybe he has a good explanation. Maybe he was scared after his confrontation with Ms. Crawford.”

Jason looked at me as if I’d kicked a puppy.

“It wasn’t really a confrontation,” I said. “The first day I arrived, I saw a young man going through my bag on the beach. Later, I realized that a page was torn out of my book, and when I saw Georgie, I recognized him. I tried to ask him about it, but he ran. I think he was scared of someone. He didn’t act like he’d killed anyone.”

I agreed with Jason; Georgie didn’t look like someone who could kill, though not all killers looked capable of murder.

Hehadrun. Maybe he knew the killer, and that’s why he was scared. Maybe he knew thatGinowas the killer, so when Gino started looking for him, he ran for his life.

I glanced at Jason and suspected he was thinking the same thing.

Eli called out from the other boat, “You’re all good, Jason! Ms. Crawford, care for a ride back?”

Jason said, “Go, we’ll talk later. I’ll have your things brought to your room.” He squeezed my hand, but his mind was clearly a million miles away.

Back at my cottage,I showered, dressed, then headed to the restaurant because I was starving. While the tiramisu we had for breakfast was terrific, I needed real food and filled my tray at the buffet. I sat in a corner and watched the birds fly from tree to tree, chirping happily. A lot like I felt. If I could sing, I might have joined their melody.

“Ms. Crawford.”

I looked up to see Trevor Lance standing across from me.

“Can I help you?” I asked formally. He didn’t look as intimidating as yesterday; in fact, he looked as if he hadn’t slept all night.

“You indicated yesterday that you had seen CeeCee on St. John. Can you please elaborate?”

His voice was calm, but forced, as if he was trying to be super polite when he really wanted to hit something.

“I saw her having lunch with a woman.”

“Did you know the woman?”

I bit my lip.

“Please, this is important,” he said.

“It was your ex-wife.”

He didn’t look surprised; in fact, he looked almost relieved. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Is something wrong?”

He put his hand on the chair across from me as if he were going to sit down, but he merely leaned on it, looking defeated. “I’ve been had, Ms. Crawford.” I couldn’t tell if his eyes were red from tears or rage. “It serves me right.”

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