Beach Bags and Burglaries (A Haley Randolph Mystery) by Dorothy Howell Read Free Book Online Page A

She’d find me sooner or later.
    I hate it when that happens.
    “I’m Geraldine,” she said with a big smile. “From the welcome center. Harvey and I met you and your friends there. Remember?”
    “Oh, yeah, sure,” I said, forcing myself to calm down. I pointed to the Sea Vixen. “I love your bag.”
    “Isn’t it just the cutest thing?” Geraldine said. “I saw it and just had to have it, even though it cost a small fortune. But Harvey said I should get it. It’s my one impulse buy here.”
    If I’d had floppy, pointed Scooby-Doo ears, they would have shot straight up.
    “Here?” I asked. I might have said that a little too loud.
    “Why, yes,” Geraldine said.
    “At the resort?” I think I shouted that.
    “Yes,” she said, and pointed toward the rear of the hotel. “At one of the shops.”
    “Which one?” I screamed that.
    Geraldine drew back a little. I forced myself to calm down.
    “Sorry,” I said.
    She waved away my apology and said, “Don’t give it a thought. Everyone is on edge, what with that poor girl getting murdered.”
    The death of Jaslyn Gordon rushed into my brain crowding out the vision of the Sea Vixen.
    “I thought it was an accident,” I said.
    “Oh, no,” Geraldine said, and gestured to her smartphone lying on her lap. “I just read it online. The police announced that she was murdered. Hit on the head with something, probably a rock.”
    Wow, news—particularly bad news—really traveled fast these days. Only a few hours ago the police were saying it was an accident—or that’s what Avery had told me. It made me wonder if she actually knew the real story, or if that was what the resort management had instructed their employees to report.
    “They have a suspect,” Geraldine said.
    Oh, crap. I hope it wasn’t me .
    “And they’re working on leads,” she said. “That’s what the report said online, anyway.”
    Luke Warner flashed in my head. He was an FBI agent. He’d worked undercover—which was what had caused our whole problem a few months ago. Was the story he’d told me about being here for a wedding the truth? Or was he really here undercover?
    And what about Ben Oliver? No way was he here for vacation, so he must be undercover too, following a story.
    Both Luke and Ben were working undercover? How come I couldn’t do something cool like that? I wanted to be undercover somewhere, too.
    Maybe I need to reevaluate my life.
    “Shh,” Geraldine said, and lowered her voice. “Here comes Harvey,”
    I followed her line of vision and saw her husband approach. Harvey looked a lot like Geraldine, both graying, both with thick middles, both wearing ho-hum resort wear.
    “Don’t say anything to him about that girl being murdered,” Geraldine whispered. “Harvey doesn’t want to hear anything bad on vacation.”
    Can’t say that I blame him.
    Harvey joined us, and I introduced myself. If he remembered me from the welcome center, he gave no indication.
    “Great place, great place,” he said, gesturing to the hotel in general. “Have you seen the library?”
    This place had a library?
    “The Rowan estate has an impressive book collection,” he said.
    Somebody wanted to spend their vacation reading?
    “Several pieces of art are in there, too,” he added.
    And looking at art?
    Maybe I should go to Disneyland next time.
    “There’s an art curator on the premises at all times,” Geraldine said. “I read it in the resort brochure. One of the members of the Rowan family.”
    “The art collection on display here at the resort is extensive,” Harvey said.
    “Sidney Rowan was an avid collector,” Geraldine added.
    “Do you enjoy art, Haley?” Harvey asked.
    Did doodling on an Etch-A-Sketch count?
    “You can take lessons right here at the resort,” Geraldine said, then paused for a few seconds and said, “Maybe I’ll do that. You should too, Haley. It’s very relaxing.”
    I thought about it for a second. Sitting in front of an easel dabbing paint