Sunset Beach(45)

She watched appreciatively as he glided back and forth through the water, his eyes covered with swim goggles, his Lycra suit molded to his body. This could, Drue reflected, come under the category of soft-core porn.



* * *



They sat on the edge of the pool, their legs dangling in the water, while Corey took glugs from an evil-looking plastic gallon jug of something he called “go-juice.”

“What all is in it?” she asked.

He held the jug out. “Just the usual. Protein powder, electrolytes, powdered kelp, vitamins, apple cider vinegar…”

She made a gagging sound and pushed the jug away.

“How was your week?” he asked, sliding back into the pool and doing scissor kicks.

“Boring. Frustrating.”

“How so?”

“I feel like I’m doing what you’re doing. Treading water. I’m useless at this job. I mean, I suck, big-time. And I can’t quit because I need the money.”

“It’ll get better,” he said.

“No, so far it’s only gotten worse. I’ve got some weird oppositional thing going on with my father. I’m thirty-six years old, and as soon as he tells me I shouldn’t do something—I go right out and do it anyway. It’s nuts!”

“What? You drove without a seatbelt? Had unprotected sex?”

“She blushed, thinking about her one-night-stand with Jonah. “Worse. There’s a case the firm handled. It involved the murder of this young girl—she was only twenty-four, a single mom with a little kid. She was murdered two years ago, right down the street here, at Gulf Vista.”

“A maid, right? I remember hearing about it on the news.”

“Right. Her mother hired the firm to sue the hotel for criminal negligence.”

“Did they ever catch the killer?”

“No. The hotel management said Jazmin was at work when she was killed, which meant they could settle it as a workman’s comp case. And the state of Florida limits worker’s comp claims to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Even if you’re murdered! By the time our firm took its cut of the payout, Jazmin’s mom, who, by the way, is only forty-eight, and is raising her granddaughter by herself, came away with peanuts.”

“That’s terrible,” Corey said.

“I think so too. I was working the reception desk when Yvonne Howington, that’s the mother’s name, came in with the little girl. Aliyah. Yvonne was raising hell about the settlement, and finally, after our bitchy office manager, who happens to be married to my father, instructed me to tell her to scram, my dad showed up. He told her he’d done all the firm could. So, see ya, bye.”

“Sounds like he did do all he could for her,” Corey said.

“No.” Drue shook her head adamantly. “Yvonne swears Jazmin wasn’t working when she was killed. And she was being sexually harassed by a manager, which the hotel denies.”

Drue went on to describe the time line of Jazmin Mayes’s murder and what she’d learned from her visit with the grandmother the previous day.

“I think it’s great that you care so much about this case,” Corey said. “But I have to ask, what is it you think you can do? You’re an intake worker, as you said, not a detective.”

“I have to do something,” Drue said. “Ever since I moved back here I’ve felt so hollow inside, and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve lost kiteboarding—probably for good—or my mom, or what. And oh man, can you believe I just mentioned losing her and a damn sport in the same breath?”

“Yeah, I can. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t run or swim, all the things that are such a huge part of my life.” He reached out and touched her arm. “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“When I went to see Yvonne Howington? Really listened to her as she talked about her daughter? It’s the first time I’ve really felt excited about something in, like, forever. I want to help her. And Aliyah.”

“How?” Corey lifted himself out of the pool and began toweling off.

“To start, I need to check out Gulf Vista, walk around, see the layout, including the laundry room where she was killed, and the back service areas.”

“Isn’t it a gated resort?” Corey asked. “I know you can’t access the pool and patio areas from the beach, unless you have a key card.”

“I think I have a plan.” She glanced over at him. “Want to run a mission with me?”

He looked alarmed. “Is it something illegal?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s illegal. Per se.” She shrugged. “Never mind. I’ll go by myself.” She slid her feet into her flip-flops and began gathering her belongings.

He swatted her with the end of his towel. “Now you’ve got me hooked.”



* * *



The germ of the idea was planted in her mind as she rode past Gulf Vista the night she’d visited Yvonne Howington. She’d spotted the resort’s marquee. WELCOME PHELAN-KSIONSYK WEDDING. HAPPY EVER AFTER!

“How are you at lying?” she asked Corey.

“Terrible. I’m basically an honest person.”

“Okay. Let me put it this way. How good of an actor are you?”