Model Suspect 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

life he had a lot more than that going for him. No wonder Sydney had fallen for the guy.
    “Come on, let’s get out of here before Madge sendsanother camera to follow us,” I told my friends.
    Bess nodded. “I saw a sign for the spa on our way here—I think it’s this way.”
    It didn’t take us long to find the resort’s spa. Like most of its lodgings, it was located in one of those private thatched huts on the warren of wooden walkways set out over the lagoon’s glassy shallows.
    “Wow,” George muttered as the three of us entered the plush, carpeted lobby of the spa. “This place is pretty fancy. A little
too
fancy, if you know what I mean.”
    I knew what she meant. The place was superposh. It takes a lot to intimidate me, but I have to admit I felt kind of underdressed and grubby as I looked around.
    Luckily Bess never feels that way, even when she’s just disembarked from an international flight. “Excuse me,” she said, striding right up to the reception desk. “We’re looking for Sydney Marvin—er, Marvin-Valdez. We heard she might be here.”
    The impeccably dressed woman behind the desk nodded. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Ms. Marvin-Valdez is expecting you. Right this way, please.”
    “You’re here!” Sydney sat up straight when we entered her treatment room, almost knocking over the petite young woman who’d been busily massagingher face with some kind of green goo. “Oh, thank goodness! This is such a nightmare….”
    “Um, could you excuse us for a second, please?” Bess shot an apologetic glance at the facialist. The young woman nodded and melted away, leaving us alone with Sydney.
    There was a flurry of hugs, some of which involved the transfer of Sydney’s green facial goo to various bits of our clothing. But even Bess didn’t seem to mind that.
    “So,” I said after a moment, settling back against the woven bamboo countertop beside the massage chair. “What’s going on, Syd?”
    Sydney shot an anxious look toward the door. “Not here,” she whispered, reaching for a tissue and starting to wipe the goo off her face. “These walls are made of paper—pretty much literally. We should find someplace private to talk.”
    She had a point. The interior walls of the spa appeared to consist mostly of bamboo and paper screens. “Okay,” I said. “Should we go to your bungalow?”
    Sydney shook her head. “I have a better idea….”
    Soon the four of us were drifting on the lagoon’s crystal-blue waters. The boat we were in was pretty cool—it was a four-person glass-bottomed paddleboatwith big, rubber inflatable pontoons. It made it easy to observe the busy and colorful underwater world of fish and coral.
    But I was trying not to get distracted by any of that. We weren’t there for a vacation, and I wanted to hear what we were up against. The saboteur had already all but ruined Sydney’s bridal shower, bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, and wedding day. I was going to do all I could to make sure he or she didn’t ruin her honeymoon, as well.
    “Do you think we’re out far enough now?” George panted, allowing her legs to slow on the paddleboat’s pedals.
    I shot a look back toward shore. Vic and his friends were romping around on the white-sand beach, lobbing coconuts at one another and laughing uproariously. It also appeared they’d set up a boom box to serve as a soundtrack to their game—driving hip-hop music was faintly audible drifting out over the water.
    Sydney nodded, seeming satisfied that we wouldn’t be overheard. “This is horrible,” she blurted out, lifting her feet from the pedals and sort of flopping against the side of one of the pontoons. “I was so looking forward to this honeymoon, but it seems like everything just went wrong from the start!”
    It was clear that she was on the verge of tears. Bess reached over and took Sydney’s hand in her own.“Deep breaths,” she advised gently. “Just tell us.”
    Sydney gulped in a lungful of