Georgette, her head poking above the blanket and her hair plastered against her face, sat shivering in a chair.
Jake dropped to his knees in front of her. “What happened?”
Miguel lifted his hands. “I’ll let her tell you.”
Her teeth chattered, and her knees bounced up and down. She kept her eyes glued to the ground.
“Miguel, get her some hot tea.”
Jake grabbed her hands, chafing them between his own. Sand clung to her face and eyelashes. Did she go for a midnight swim and get caught in a riptide? “What happened, Georgette? It’s dangerous to swim alone at night.”
“I wasn’t swimming.” She pushed her wet hair back from her face. “I was attacked on the beach.”
Jake sank back on his heels. Oh God. What was happening to his island? Why Georgette? “Who attacked you? Where?”
She took a deep breath. “I was walking back from Costa Azul, and someone tackled me from behind. It was on that dark strip of beach between Palumba Falls and the other hotels.”
His heart slammed against his rib cage, and he balled his hands into fists. Was she dressed underneath that blanket? “What did he do to you?”
The blanket fell off her shoulders, revealing her wet dress clinging to her body. One of the straps dangled from her shoulder, broken. His jaw tightened.
Georgette rubbed her eyes and winced. “He shoved my head in the water and warned me to go home.”
He hunched forward on his knees. “He warned you to go home?”
She nodded. “Just like yesterday at Devil’s Teeth.”
He drew his brows together. Who was warning Georgette and why? It had to be linked to Jamie’s disappearance. Somebody had found out she was Jamie’s sister long before he had.
She stood up, the blanket falling to her bare feet. “I want to call the cops, or the constable, or whoever is responsible for fighting crime on this island.”
“That’s not a good idea.” He rose to stand next to her.
“You’re not my boss, and you’re not the law around here. You’re a hotel owner.” She stamped her foot. “I want the police.”
Okay, she still hated him. Or she was suspicious. Had Jamie written something about him in one of those postcards she always sent off? He’d wondered who sent postcards these days instead of plastering pictures on social media. After meeting Georgette, he could see her wanting postcards. She had an air of the old-fashioned about her.
Miguel returned with the tea. Jake took the steaming mug from him and offered it to Georgette. “Miguel, call Clive.”
Miguel’s eyes bugged out. “Clive? You want me to call the constable?”
Jake gestured to Georgette. “She wants to call the constable.”
Shaking his head, Miguel went back to the bar to make the call.
Georgette bit her lip. “Is the constable crooked or something?”
Jake shrugged. “Let’s just say Clive isn’t above accepting a bribe or two. Hell, I’ve bribed him myself a few times.”
“I bet you have.” Her eyes narrowed.
That had been a stupid thing for him to say. “Look, Georgette, I know now that Jamie Lawson is your sister. We need to talk about her.”
“I’m not discussing my sister with you.” Her back stiffened, and she pulled away from him.
He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. Apparently, that had been a stupid thing to say, too. “Are you still cold? I’ll hold off Clive if you want to change clothes.”
“I’m not cold.” She folded her arms. “I’ll wait right here.”
He invited her back to the office he kept by the pool to wait for Clive, and they didn’t have to wait long. Clive Jensen shuffled into the office, rubbing his hands, his watery blue eyes darting around the room. The constable was always on the lookout for a way to make a quick buck.
Jake made the introductions, first names only. If Georgette found it odd, she didn’t say so. She took Clive through the incident tonight and the one at Devil’s Teeth, and he jotted down copious notes. At least he was scribbling something in that tattered notebook.
“Why didn’t you report the threat at Devil’s Teeth?” Clive chewed on his pencil.
Georgette pulled at her wrinkled dress. “I figured it was just a joke, and I wasn’t hurt. But tonight was more serious. Somebody wants me off this island for some reason.”
Clive tapped one of his teeth with the eraser end of the pencil. “Which brings us to motive. What is the purpose of your visit to Palumba, Georgette?”
Jake nudged her toes under the table with his foot. If she brought up Jamie Lawson now, all hell would break loose on the island.
“Just a holiday.” She pushed his foot away.
He let his breath out slowly. She didn’t hate him that much.
Clive finished his questioning, and they all rose. “Tell me, do you plan on leaving the island?”
“No.” Georgette tossed her hair back.
Lifting his shoulders, Clive said, “Perhaps it’s just some misunderstanding, Miss...I’m sorry, I didn’t get your last name. We are rather informal on the island, but I do need it for my report.”
Jake gathered in that breath again and waited.
Georgette squeezed out the hem of her dress, flattened it against her thighs, and ran her fingers through her mass of curly hair. “Lawrence. Georgette Lawrence.”
Clive extended his hand. “If anything occurs during your stay, give me a call.” He chuckled. “I know Jake likes to think Palumba’s his private kingdom and the Palumba Falls his castle, but I am still the law on this island.”
Jake and Georgette walked with Clive to the front of the hotel and watched him duck into his little car. Then Georgette spun back toward the hotel.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Jake caught her arm.
She shook him off. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
He squared his shoulders and stood in front of her. “We need to talk. You’re in danger.”
She snorted. “You just figured that out, genius? You’re pretty quick for a party boy.”
He blinked and shoved his fists in his pockets. That’s what the old man used to call him...still called him. “We have to talk about Jamie.”
She flinched. “And I told you...”
He grabbed her shoulders. “She’s missing. Surely you know that, or you wouldn’t be down here. Now somebody’s threatening you. Don’t you get it? You’re in danger because of her. You’re not too quick for a bookworm.”
Her jaw dropped. “Jamie’s not missing. She went island-hopping with some French guy.”
Georgette had already done her research. He’d expected no less from a librarian-type like her. “That’s one of the stories circulating.”
“What are the others?” Her chest rose and fell.
He led her to a chair on the darkened patio. “The most popular one is that she was sacrificed in a Palarosa ritual.”
Her dark, sculpted brows shot up, and then she burst into laughter. “Please.”
He’d anticipated this response from Ms. Practical, but she didn’t know the island like he did. “I’m not joking, Georgette. The Palarosa sacrifice ritual is a spring rite, held three times a year during each month of spring. A young local woman disappeared two months ago, and your sister disappeared last month. The word among the locals is the gods are angry and must be appeased.”
“Why are the gods angry this year?” She tilted her head. “Did Palumba lose the annual soccer tournament?”
Did she get that sarcastic tongue from dealing with obnoxious bookstore customers? Or was it because she thought she was smarter than everyone else? He clasped his hands in front of him and studied them. “Supposedly, they’re angry about the tourism and development on the island.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I get it. If the locals really believe the gods are angry about Palumba’s tourism, they’ll stop welcoming tourists. And if they stop welcoming tourists, that’s the end of Palumba Falls.”
A flash of heat claimed his chest. “If tourism leaves Palumba, the island will suffer. It’s not just about Palumba Falls.”
“Why would anyone believe Jamie was sacrificed? Just because this other woman disappeared at the same time the previous month?”
“It’s more than that.” He chewed at a fingernail. How well did Georgette know her sister? “Do you remember the rules of the sacrifice?”
She folded her hands around her knees and stared out toward the ocean. “Yes. The gods want a fallen woman.”
He folded his arms. “The husband of the local woman who disappeared two months ago caught her cheating on him with his best friend.”
Georgette pursed her lips. “Fallen woman number one. And Jamie?”
She didn’t know her sister at all. He sucked in a breath. How did you tell someone her sister was the most...convivial tourist on the island? “It was rumored that Jamie got around.”
“Rumored?”
Her voice was as tight as the expression on her face. Damn, he’d offended her and her refined sensibilities. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. This place thrives on gossip. Anyway, when Jamie disappeared at the time of the full moon, just like that other woman, the sacrifice story spread like wildfire.”
Georgette jumped up, nearly knocking over the chair. “That’s all very fascinating, but what does this have to do with me?”
He spread his hands. “You’re Jamie’s sister. Obviously, somebody knows that.” He rushed his next words. “Even though you’re nothing alike, you registered under the name Lawson, and you probably told a few people you’re Jamie’s sister. Maybe somebody’s afraid you’ll start asking questions. If the ritual-sacrifice rumor is true, it’s murder.”
She choked out, “Jamie wasn’t murdered. This is absurd. She went island-hopping with some guy named Jean-Claude, and as soon as she comes back, I’m going to scold her for not keeping our mother informed, and then I’m going to leave this creepy island and this overpriced resort.”
She marched back toward the causeway leading to her room and flung over her shoulder, “And you can start spreading that story around.”
Blinded by tears, Georgette groped for her card key and slid it into the reader, mumbling, “Even though you’re nothing alike.”
How many times had she heard those words in her life?
Georgette toppled face forward on her bed. Could she ever get those voices out of her head? Could she ever live her life as Georgette Lawson, period? Not Georgette Lawson, older, less attractive, more serious sister of Jamie Lawson.
When Jamie left home to travel the world after Dad’s death, Georgette had breathed a sigh of relief. She’d planned to settle down and become Brice’s wife. Her flighty sister could visit once in a while and play the glamorous aunt to her and Brice’s children. Then Jamie returned and seduced Brice right under her nose...claiming it was for her sister’s own good.
When Jamie left after that, Georgette breathed another sigh of relief. She dumped Brice and planned to make some improvements at the bookshop, maybe add a coffeehouse next door, have poetry readings. Then Jamie’s postcards stopped arriving.
And just when Georgette started enjoying herself on the island and got ready to breathe yet another sigh of relief, Jake Kincaid stepped into the picture. Jake with his strong, hard body, his ready grin, his intelligent eyes...and his connection to Jamie.
Georgette shivered. The breeze from the window chilled her body, still damp from her dress. She bounded off the bed to close the window, which she’d left open before she went to dinner. With her passport and money locked in the hotel safe, she’d felt secure. Ha! Little had she known.
She pulled off her dress and stood under the warm shower. Jamie, where are you? Once she came tripping back to the island, her sister would put to rest those ridiculous rumors. Ritual sacrifices? Murder?
Georgette toweled off and slipped into a thin nightgown. If Jamie had just traipsed off with Jean-Claude, why was someone threatening her? Was Jake right?
Georgette didn’t plan on leaving Palumba until she found out. And if Jamie was in trouble, she’d do everything in her power to save her. She always had, ever since Jamie was a scrawny, sickly little kid who turned to her big sister for protection against schoolyard bullies.
She thought of the postcard that had set off Mom in the first place. Mom hadn’t liked the tone. To Georgette, it was the same old, same old. Jamie had met some fabulous people. She’d bought some jewelry. She’d hooked up with a hot guy.
Georgette swallowed. Was that hot guy Jake?
She sprang up from the bed and pulled open the dresser drawer where she’d stashed her underwear. She pawed through the silky lingerie.
She removed each piece of underwear separately, shaking it out, until the drawer was empty. She turned to the little evening bag she’d taken out tonight and snapped it open. Nothing but sand. She searched the rest of the room, dumping the contents of drawers, patting pockets, groping through her suitcases.
The postcard was gone.
Chapter Five
Georgette checked her watch. Late in Palumba but not Grand Forks. She picked up the phone.
“Lawson’s Bookshop. Can I help you?”
“Aunt Henrietta?”
“Gigi, is that you?”
“Yes. How’s everything going?”
Aunt Henrietta clucked her tongue. “Everything’s just fine. Don’t worry. I hope you’re enjoying yourself while you wait for that scatterbrained sister of yours.”
Georgette chewed her bottom lip. Enjoy was not exactly the word she’d use. “The island is beautiful, and so is the resort. Did Mom tell you? Jamie probably hopped to another island with a man she met at the resort.”
Aunt Henrietta snorted. “You don’t have to wrap it up in clean linen for me. Jamie’s shacking up again with some man she barely knows, with an emphasis on bare.”
Aunt Henrietta was the only one in the family who didn’t spoil Jamie. When she’d found out Jamie slept with Brice, she’d congratulated Jamie on, what she considered, the only sensible action she’d ever taken. Aunt Henri had never liked Brice.
“Can I talk to Mom?”
“Sure, I think she’s done complaining about lunch and keeping the shop open at night.”
Mom’s breathless voice came over the line. “Is she back yet? Did you find out where she went?”
Georgette gripped the phone. She wasn’t about to fill Mom in on the Palarosa ritual rumor. “Not yet, but I lost her postcard, and I was hoping there might be some clue or hint in the postcard, now that I know the island and the people involved.”
Her mother wailed. “Georgette, you know I like to save all Jamie’s postcards.”
Georgette rolled her eyes. “I’ll send you an identical postcard. But in the meantime, do you remember what Jamie wrote?”
Georgette knew Mom read Jamie’s postcards over and over until she memorized them. Who knew that compulsive behavior would come in handy someday?
While Mom drew in a breath, Georgette grabbed a pen and a piece of hotel stationery.
“Let me think. ‘Palumba is awesome. I’m working on my tan. The Palumba Falls is awesome. Lots of cool people here from all over the world. Lots of money. I got a new necklace, a topaz surrounded by diamonds. Dabbling in the local culture, but may be in over my head. Met a man who’s hot and awesome. P.S. Tell Gigi to come down. Love, Jamie’.”
Georgette pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s...awesome, Mom. Thanks.”
“And then she’d written some numbers in the bottom left corner, but I don’t remember what those were—four of them.”
“Four numbers?” Georgette dropped the pen. Her mother had just shocked her by not memorizing the numbers, too. “Okay.”
“Does it help? She didn’t mention any names. But I think someone bought her the necklace, don’t you? Jamie never has to spend her own money on jewelry.”
Please don’t be Jake. “Maybe it was this Frenchman, Jean-Cl
aude. Gives me something to look into anyway. Are you doing okay?”
Mom heaved a sigh. “Your aunt is bossy. The sooner you find Jamie and get home, the better. Brice is beside himself. He wants you back, Georgette, and he’s threatening to fly down there to get you.”
She groaned. “Tell him to save his time and money.”
Georgette ended the call and sat down, creasing the piece of paper where she’d written the contents of Jamie’s postcard. Did the local culture include Palarosa? Maybe Jamie thought it would be fun to cast love spells and got mixed up with something more dangerous.
She turned out the lights and sank into the big bed, her body aching from the midnight attack. She wasn’t about to go home now. Linda had told her she needed some adventure in her life?
Well, she’d just found it.
***
The next morning, Georgette staggered out of bed, kneading her stiff muscles. She popped a couple of ibuprofens before heading to the breakfast buffet.
Spotting Nicole in the sparse crowd, Georgette wended her way through the tables, balancing her loaded plate. “Can I join you?”
Nicole, perfectly coiffed and made up, glanced up from her Bloody Mary. “Certainly, darling.” Her bare shoulders shuddered. “How can you eat at this time of the morning?”
Georgette’s eyes darted between her plate of food and Nicole’s drink, but she kept her mouth shut. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Besides, she needed the sustenance for what she had planned.
Nicole toyed with her straw. “Are you one of those disgusting creatures who can eat whatever you want and not gain an ounce?”
Georgette drew her brows together while she buttered a slice of toast. She never worried about what she ate like most women of her acquaintance, including Linda and Jamie. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”
Nicole dabbed her lip-sticked mouth with a napkin. “Did you enjoy your evening stroll with Jake?”
Georgette bit into her toast. She’d enjoyed the stroll until Jake’s crack about her not standing on tiptoes. That had brought the reality of Jake and Jamie crashing down on her. She licked a dab of creamy butter from her lips, remembering Jake’s kiss. “Jake’s very attentive to his guests.”
Last Ticket to Paradise Page 5