Page 30 of Last Ticket to Paradise

The hair on the back of Georgette’s neck prickled. Did she look like she needed either? Both? “Actually, I’m just interested in Palarosa.”

The woman folded her hands on the countertop. “Many tourists are, but some residents prefer to hide the ancient lore from you.”

“Why?”

The woman waved her hands toward the window. “Perhaps they fear it will interfere with the shiny tourist trap that is Palumba.”

“A-are you a runda?”

The woman flashed beautiful white teeth. “You already know something of Palarosa. Yes, I’m a practicing runda.”

Georgette approached the counter and looked the woman in the eye. “Is the Palarosa sacrifice still performed?”

The woman drew a breath in between her white teeth. “Are you referring to Hallie LaCroix and that unfortunate tourist?”

Georgette nodded, holding her breath.

The woman straightened several items on the countertop, her long fingers stroking each piece. “The Palarosa sacrifice is illegal. The law considers it murder. Of course, it is no longer performed.”

Georgette exhaled. “What do you think happened to Hallie and...that other woman?”

The runda lifted a shoulder. “Ran off with their lovers, both of them. If you’re asking questions like this all over the island, you’ll need protection.”

She withdrew a leather sack from beneath the counter and stuffed several items inside. She pressed the bag into Georgette’s hand. “Chew the clove of garlic. Rub the feathers over your body. Draw a line across your threshold with the charcoal. Be safe.”

The woman turned and swept the beaded curtain aside, disappearing into the back. Georgette’s mouth gaped open. She could believe the entire scene was a dream except for the beaded curtain swaying back and forth and the bag in her hand.

Stuffing the leather sack into her purse, she exited the store. As she walked outside, she glanced at the floor. A black streak marked the wood.

***

His business in town finished, Jake grabbed a ringside seat on the patio of theTown Square Café, soaking in the noise of ringing cash registers. Ah, the sweet sound of success. Nothing his father had developed rivaled Palumba Falls. His jaw hardened. And he wasn’t going to let Palarosa hysteria destroy it.

If only Jamie would return. Why had Georgette come traipsing down here after her sister? Had Jamie written something in a postcard that worried her family?

Not that he minded Georgette traipsing down here. She was a refreshing change from most of the shallow, self-absorbed women who populated his resort. He’d felt fire when he kissed her and allowed his fingers to linger on her creamy skin. Did her obvious disdain for him fuel his passion?

He’d loved a challenge—the biggest waves to surf, the deepest caves to dive, the most women to bed. Then he’d turned his attention to developing the best resort on the islands. Maybe his next challenge was to release the pent-up emotions in one uptight woman and make her moan with pleasure.

As if on cue, that uptight woman emerged from one of the alleys off the main square, clutching her bag against her chest. When she hit the sidewalk, her gait quickened, and she swiveled her head from side to side.

Jake narrowed his eyes. What was she up to now? He half rose from his chair and waved an arm. “Georgette!”

She jerked her head in his direction, her eyes widening. He gestured her over to his table.

As she approached, he asked, “Doing some shopping?”

She gripped her straw bag like it was a lifesaver. “Some window-shopping.”

He spread his arms. “Nothing in our shops tempts you?”

“I’m more of a browser.” A beautiful pink tint touched her cheeks.

He nudged the chair across from him with his foot. “Have a seat. Join me for a late lunch.”

Georgette turned her head toward one of the green and yellow island-hopper vans pulling up to the fountain, spewing out more tourists eager to spend their money.

Jake stood up and pulled out the chair. “Those vans run all day long. I’m giving you permission to skip lunch at the resort and eat here.”

---