Chapter 3
Tina had to laugh. “That’s either lame or creative, I can’t decide which.”
“That’s the newspapers for ya.” Marigold pulled up outside the inn’s entrance. It didn’t have a parking lot, per se, since most guests arrived by boat. Most of the nearby vehicles were golf carts that the staff and guests used to get around.
“Hang on a sec,” Tina said as she gathered her things, preparing to climb out of the truck. “Tell me more about this murder. What happened? Who got killed by the light of the night light?”
“Some obscenely wealthy guest, one of those old-school upper-crust dudes who’d been coming to the inn every summer his whole life.”
“Anything get stolen?”
Marigold turned an impatient gaze on her. “You’re supposed to be finding Adam Johnson and kicking his ass, not worried about some murder from thirty years ago.”
“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry. Since the Murder Suite is the last place you saw him, I’m going to do a sweep in there. Make sure to send me a few photos of Adam.”
“I will. I’ll shoot you everything I’ve found out about him so far too.”
“Thanks, that’ll be helpful.” At least, she hoped it would be. If this “Adam Johnson” didn’t want to be found, chances were he’d make it impossible to do so. She’d give it a solid try, mostly because it was better than being on “vacation.”
The Lightkeeper Inn welcomed her inside as if she were a duchess, with a bell boy jumping to take her bags, and a smiling concierge’s assistant offering her a glass of sparkling water spiked with juniper—locally grown, Tina was assured.
The inn wore its history gracefully. Its wooden floors gleamed with the patina only decades of wax polish could give.
Not a speck of peeling paint was to be seen on the tall white columns that supported the high ceilings.
An atmosphere of wealth and ease radiated throughout.
Exuberant bouquets of tiger lilies and deep blue delphiniums added a splash of color to the airy foyer.
To the left was a glass-walled conservatory where guests lounged and gazed at the view; to the right a restaurant with a classic mahogany bar.
That must be where they served the Zombie’s Revenge.
Along one wall of the foyer, vintage framed photographs from the inn’s early days showed women in bustles strolling across the lawn, men playing badminton in knee pants, and children digging in the sand on the beach at the foot of the cliffs.
Wasn’t there an elevator to that beach? Tina had heard rumors to that effect.
And yet, for all the visible wealth and privilege, it wasn’t hard for her to imagine a murder happening here. She was a police officer, after all. She could also see how easily it would be forgotten as the flow of summer pleasure-seeking continued on.
From her previous time on Sea Smoke, she recognized the reception clerk, a young local named Heidi Ochoa. The girl stiffened as she approached. “What now?” she asked warily.
Tina laughed. She could hardly blame her, since her past two visits had been during times of crisis.
“Relax, I’m here on vacation. I just, you know, fell in love with the place.”
Heidi narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. But she couldn’t argue with a reservation, now could she? She tapped the keys of her computer, much louder than necessary.
With her key card in hand, Tina grabbed the handles of her rolling suitcases. “I do have one little question.”
“I knew it,” Heidi muttered.
“Is there any chance I could take a peek at the Honeymoon Suite?”
“Are you getting married?”
“You never know.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Tina caught movement in the bar to her right.
A man slid off a bar stool and headed toward the reception desk.
A quick glance told her that he looked vaguely familiar, sort of dark and stern and rough around the edges—definitely her cup of tea.
He wore jeans, a gray sweater, and work boots, and he wore them well.
For an instant, she regretted her choice of all black, from her t-shirt to her half-boots, but that was what she generally wore in all circumstances, so why should vacation be any different?
“That sounds like a no,” said Heidi. “Anyway, someone’s staying in it. I can’t let you just look at someone’s room without their permission.”
“When are they checking out?”
“That’s confidential. I can’t reveal anyone’s checkout date, sorry.”
“Okay…” Tina wished she could pull out her badge and insist, but she wasn’t here on any kind of official investigation. “Look, I don’t want to bother anyone, but—”
“Not a bother at all.”
She jumped. The strange man stood next to her, meeting her surprised gaze with calm gray eyes. God, he looked so familiar. But she hadn’t seen him on Sea Smoke Island before. It was from somewhere else… “Sorry?”
“I’m staying in that suite. You can take a look around if you like.”
“Oh. Thanks.” So he was here on his honeymoon. Kinda disappointing, but that wasn’t the point right now. “Appreciate it.”
“Not a problem.” He seemed to be waiting on her.
“You mean now?”
“I’m here, you’re here. Why not?” He pulled a key card from his pocket and flashed it at her. “I was about to head up and grab some suntan lotion.”
Suntan lotion? He wasn’t even wearing beach attire. Maybe it was for his new bride. “How about I meet you up there? I need to drop my bags off first.”
He nodded and ambled in the direction of the elevator.
“The Honeymoon Suite is on the top floor,” Heidi explained. “You’re on the ground floor.” With the plebes, said her expression, if not her words.
Tina almost asked the man’s name, but put her chances of getting an answer from Heidi at about zero. She’d ask him herself.
She let herself into her own room—pink climbing roses outside the window, a view of rolling lawn and a charming gazebo—and dropped her luggage next to the bed.
Try as she might, she couldn’t place the strange man, but she was a hundred percent sure that she knew him from somewhere.
She had a good eye for faces and could recognize someone she’d interviewed for a case years after the fact.
About ten minutes later, she tapped on the door of the Honeymoon Suite, which wasn’t labelled as such—the Lightkeeper Inn was all about understated, old-money luxury, after all.
As the door swung open, her quick impression was…
well, heaven. Light flooded in from the tall windows.
A fragrance so delicate she couldn’t possibly identify it floated through the air.
It must be some custom-mixed room fragrance with ingredients so rare she didn’t recognize them.
She blinked at the man ushering her inside. It might take her eyes a minute to adjust to all this blazing beauty. Give her a dark alley and she’d know how to cope. A rich man’s paradise—different story.
“Thanks so much for letting me look around,” she told him as she stuck out her hand. “I’m Tina Chen.”
He shook it, saying simply, “Jack.”
Well, okay. He had no obligation to fully introduce himself just because she had. “Nice to meet you. Are you and your wife enjoying your stay here?”
“Hard to complain.”
He seemed to be a man of few words, so far. And those words didn’t exactly answer the question.
“Why are you so interested in this suite?” he asked her. “Are you planning your honeymoon?”
Tina used the same line as with Heidi Ochoa. “You never know. Do you recommend it? Any downsides I should be aware of? Roses, thorns?”
She scanned the large sitting room, which featured a stonework fireplace and a fully-stocked mini-bar.
A fruit platter sat on a polished table under the tall windows, but it had barely been touched.
A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket filled with water, and a brown leather jacket was draped over the back of a chair.
She saw no signs of a woman, she realized, as a sense of unease creeped across her skin.
What was she even looking for? Even if “Adam” had left something behind, the cleaners would have found it.
“It’s been great so far,” Jack said. “But it really depends on what you’re looking for in a honeymoon suite.”
“I mean, the usual. What does anyone look for?” Face it, she had no idea about these things, and no real craving for luxury.
She’d always thought a quickie exchange of vows and back to work would be the way to go.
“Privacy? A bed? I don’t know…” She scrambled for something that might seem useful on a honeymoon. “Lube?”
He nearly choked on his laugh. “No lube, sorry.”
“Rich people don’t use lube? Never mind.” She waved him off before he could answer. “This might sound strange, but do you mind if I test out the vibes in here, in private? I just want to see how it would feel to come in here with my sweetie and be all alone, just the two of us.”
Shrugging, he raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you want me to step outside?”
“Yes, please.”
He snorted, not budging an inch from his position. “Sorry, but I’m not leaving a strange woman alone in my hotel room with all my stuff.”
Oh. So he’d been mocking her. She shot him an assessing glance, reevaluating her impression of him. Not just a pretty face. More of a quick-thinker than she’d realized.
“My?” she asked.
“What?”
“You said ‘my’ stuff. What about your beloved’s stuff? Where is she, by the way?” That uneasy feeling was getting stronger. Good thing she was a cop and knew how to handle herself, even against a fit-looking guy like Jack.
“Where’s yours? Seems kind of odd to plan your honeymoon when you don’t even have a fiancé.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No ring.” He gestured to her right hand. “Also, you give off a very single vibe.”
“No, I don’t.” Offended, she tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.
“You’re right. It’s more of a back-off-before-I-dropkick-you-out-the-window vibe.”
She frowned at him. “Rude. I’d never do that because it would be against protocol.”