The Palm Beach Murders by James Patterson (best novels in english .txt) 📗

decided to return to Turks and Caicos along with Captain Kurtz. Before our 6:00 p.m. meeting with the rest of the group, I paid a visit to the marina and recruited a couple of confidential informants who were more than happy to text me when the Hostile Wake-Over made an appearance. Amazing, the information you can glean with nothing more than a crisp hundred-dollar bill and a knowing smile.

One of my informants texted in the middle of our group meeting with a bonus piece of news: Jamie Halsey was apparently headed straight to his favorite watering hole, the Infiniti Bar at the Grace Bay Club.

The name is not misleading. The main feature of this bar is a ninety-foot stretch of black granite that runs all the way out to the water. Not quite infinity but close enough, I suppose. I weave around the well-heeled travelers snacking on ceviche and sipping $18 cocktails until I find Halsey. He’s doing shots of Grey Goose and flirting—badly—with a pair of glistening young women who are either twins or friends who aspire to look exactly alike.

I hate to see a young man flirting badly. I decide to show him how it’s done.

You know how I flirt, my dear Matthew. I’m irresistible.

Especially when I do nothing except order a drink and look like I have the kinds of problems that only a rich young man can solve.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

This is his opening gambit. Snooze.

I say nothing but give him the tiniest of openings—a brief glance, followed by a facial expression that’s somewhere between You’re Going to Disappoint Me, Dear Boy and I Might Be Bored Enough to Let You Try.

“This your first time here at the Infiniti? Crazy, right? I just love the ocean breeze you get out here. Best bar on the island.”

“It is nice,” I allow.

“I’m going to buy you a drink,” he says, emboldened.

Notice there’s not even a question. It’s a bald statement of fact. He’s going to buy me a drink. And presumably this is going to mean I owe him something.

The glitter twins long forgotten, Halsey lowers himself into the seat next to me as he signals to the bartender. I’ve barely had the time to sip my first drink, but now I have a backup coming. I understand the strategy: he’s trapped me here for at least two drinks. After which…well, I’m sure he’ll suggest something.

We do the usual What’s your name? and Wow, such a lovely name and You’re an actress? I would have guessed model and so on until he finally builds up to his bold suggestion: You know where you can catch the best ocean breezes? On a boat.

“You’re right,” I say. “I love the open seas.”

“Then you’re in luck, because I happen to own a boat. A yacht, in fact. Squadron 60. You ever been on one of those? It lives in that sweet spot where bad-ass meets luxury.”

Pretty sure he’s quoting the man who sold him the yacht right now.

“I’m not sure I’m dressed for a boat ride, Jamie.”

“That’s the beauty of a yacht, sweetie. You can wear anything you want.”

Wait for it.…

“Or nothing at all,” he continues.

I scrunch up my nose a little and turn my attention back to the dregs of my first cocktail. I have to let him know that he’s just stepped over the line. Not a deal breaker, necessarily, but I’m not some strumpet who will strip naked at the mere suggestion of a spin around the bay.

Halsey, to his credit, senses this and immediately turns it down a gear.

“You’re right, though. That dress is too pretty for a cruise. How about we take a stroll down the beach? My family spends the holidays down here every year, and I could show you some places the locals don’t even know about.”

“Could you,” I say.

Is this what he told Paige Ryerson? Meet me later, I’ll show you a place the locals don’t even know about—like six feet under the sand. For a brief moment I wonder if he’s a thrill killer, and he’s done this thing a half-dozen times before, at ports all over the Caribbean, protected by Daddy’s bankroll and loyal Captain Kurtz.

I’m curious to see if he’d try such a thing with me.

But before I can respond, I hear a loud exclamation: “Brah! I didn’t know you were coming back to the island!”

I swivel around to see Paolo Salese, playboy lifeguard, arms open and waiting for a hug from his pal Jamie.

Chapter 21

JANA (continued)

“Duuuuude,” Jamie says, then wraps his arms around Paolo for a very manly yet intimate hug. There is more grunting and laughing, and there are more exclamations. For a minute I feel very much like a third wheel. Then Paolo catches a glimpse of me.

“Hey, who’s this?”

“Paolo, meet my friend Jana—she’s an actress.”

The lifeguard takes my hand and gives it an awkward kiss, like you’ve seen in countless movies but never in real life. “Stage or screen?”

“Minor roles on Broadway, major ones off, you know how it is. A little television work when it’s in New York.”

But Paolo barely comprehends the words coming out of my mouth. He’s sizing up my body like he’s a costume designer. Then, upon seeing my second cocktail, makes a suggestion. “Dude, we need shots.”

Shots it is. The bartender busies himself lining up the glasses while Jamie and Paolo busy themselves competing for my attention. As amusing as such a competition might be, I was more interested in hearing these two talk. How do they know each other? Up until this moment, the teams of suspects had been clearly defined: Lifeguard and Cop, Rich Kid and Captain. What connected the Rich Kid with the Lifeguard?

I gradually withdrew from their antics, and they sensed I was not interested in either as a nighttime companion. They focused on each other, their speech punctuated by shots of Grey Goose. Soon enough, Paolo leaned in close and whispered, “I need some help.”

“What’s up, man?”

The bar is bustling, and they no doubt thought