Resort to Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

against her wind-ruffled hair.
    â€œOh, Mom, it’s fun!” Jasmine exclaimed.
    We bunched at the beginning of the headland, everyone except Aaron. He strode exuberantly toward the narrow point, moving through a moongate to stand at the farthest edge. He peered over the side. “Hey.” He turned toward us, gestured with his arm. The wind lifted his brown curls, ballooned his jacket, flared his trousers. “The waves are huge!” He shouted to be heard over the crash of the surf.
    â€œCome on, Dad.” Diana urged everyone forward. “It won’t take long. And this will be a picture no one will ever forget.” The breeze tangled her strawberry curls, touched her cheeks with pink.
    Neal laughed. “We can title it ‘Waiting for Rain.’”
    Jasmine pointed out to sea. “Look at the waves coming over the reef.” She darted to Lloyd. “How close can we go to the edge?”
    Connor reached out. “Stay close, Jasmine.”
    Lloyd laughed, took Jasmine’s hand. “Let’s take a look.” He called over his shoulder, “It’s okay, Connor, I’ll keep her safe.” He and Jasmine stepped through the moongate, went almost to the edge.
    Steve Jennings grinned at Connor. “The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can retreat with dignity.” But his voice was good-humored.
    Connor looked out at the darkening water. “All right, all right.” She was suddenly amused, an impish smile lighting her face. “It’s a good thing I’m going to the beauty shop Friday.”
    For the first time I had an inkling of Connor Bailey’s charm. I was glad I’d decided to make the climb and be part of the picture even though I’d almost stayed behind to rest. But I hadn’t wanted to disappoint Diana and I hoped to catch her for a quiet chat after the picture taking was done. Diana had announced her plan at lunch. “I have it all arranged. George will come up with us and take the pictures.” George was a lanky young Canadian who worked at the hotel as a waiter. He had a mop of light brown hair, a peeling, sunburned nose and an agreeable smile. Now he held Diana’s Leica comfortably in one big, rawboned hand and looked expectantly toward her.
    Diana waved her hand. “We’ll stand in a semicircle looking out to the ocean. Dad, you and Connor in the center. Mr. Jennings next to Connor—”
    Lloyd’s face was rigid for an instant.
    â€œâ€”Marlow next to him, then Aaron and Jasmine. Neal, you can be next to Dad, then Grandma and me.George, why don’t you go to the moongate and look toward us.”
    As we sorted ourselves out, stepping carefully because the rocky surface fell away sharply on both sides, George edged past us, stood with his back to the moongate. When George lifted the camera, Diana called out, “What’s in the background? Does the hotel show?”
    George peered through the viewfinder. “Some of it. Mostly you see the tower…Hey.” He lowered the camera, squinted toward the hotel, “There’s something on the platform of the tower…no, no, I’m wrong. I thought I saw something white—”
    Steve Jennings’s head jerked around to look up the hill at the tower. He wasn’t alone. Connor, too, her face stiff, swung to look. She remained half-turned, face taut, intent on the tower.
    â€œOkay, everybody. Look this way,” George instructed. “Now come a little closer together…” He lifted the camera.
    I slipped my arms around my grandchildren, felt their arms around me, and looked toward George.
    George took one step nearer, another. “Smile…”
    Obediently, we smiled.
    The camera clicked. “One more for luck.” George snapped another picture.
    As we moved apart, Connor gripped Lloyd’s arm. Head down, she was tugging him along the narrow path.
    Steve Jennings looked after Connor and Lloyd,