Page 17 of Last Ticket to Paradise

Chapter Four

Jake banged on the door to Georgette’s room. “Georgette, let me in. We need to talk.”

Damn it. Did she think he had something to do with her sister’s disappearance? Did she encourage his attentions to get information about Jamie? He bit the inside of his cheek.Hadshe encouraged him?

When she didn’t answer, fear raced through his veins after what had happened to her already. He hit the door with his palm. “Georgette, I have a key, and I’m coming in.”

He slid the card key in the reader and pushed the door open. The thin white drapes billowed into the room, carried by a breeze from the open window. Didn’t his staff warn her about the mosquitoes?

“Georgette?” He flicked on the light. Her bed was turned down but not slept in. Knots clenched in his gut. Where could she be at this hour? After she’d flounced away from him, she’d headed for the Costa Azul. Was the bar still open over there? A flash of heat spread over his chest. Was Georgette just like her sister? Did she run to the arms of some man?

No way.

He took a turn around the room. He had to tell her about Jamie. He had to warn her about the rumors.

His walkie-talkie crackled, and he pressed the talk button. “Yeah?”

“Boss, you better get out to the poolside bar,” Miguel croaked.

Needles of fear pricked his scalp as he jogged to the pool area. Miguel crouched beside a figure huddled in a blanket, and Jake strode across the tiles.

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 notmyboss, 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.

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