Beach Bags and Burglaries (A Haley Randolph Mystery) by Dorothy Howell Page A

problem with a coworker?” I asked. “Her supervisor, maybe?”
    Avery was Jaslyn’s supervisor, and I’d wondered about her possible involvement in Jaslyn’s death.
    “She wanted to change teams,” Gabe said.
    Thank goodness—a clue I could actually use.
    “Why?” I asked.
    “She didn’t say,” Gabe told me. “But she and that supervisor of hers didn’t get along.”
    “You mean Avery?” I asked, just to be sure.
    “Jas said she was always riding her about something,” Gabe said. “Claiming she wasn’t following resort policies, crap like that.”
    If that were true and Jaslyn wasn’t keeping up with the housekeeping schedule, it would reflect poorly on Avery, maybe even get her in trouble with the resort’s upper management. I mean, jeez, the standards at the Rowan Resort were incredibly high, and they probably paid key employees very well to maintain those standards. No way would Avery want somebody on her team dragging her down.
    But was that a reason to kill someone?
    Maybe not a cold, calculated murder, but I could see it happening in the heat of the moment, in an argument that escalated.
    “I don’t think changing teams was really bothering Jas that much,” Gabe said.
    Damn. So much for that clue.
    “Did you get the feeling she wanted to break up with you?” I asked.
    Okay, that was a crappy thing to ask, because Gabe seemed genuinely upset about Jaslyn’s death. But I wanted to get something from him that would allow me to take him off my mental suspect list—so it was for his own good. Really.
    “No. No way.” Gabe slammed his fist into the palm of his hand.
    His anger spun up so quickly I stepped back. I realized I was totally alone with him behind the bushes, at the edge of the resort, out of sight of absolutely everybody.
    Not a great feeling.
    “Jaslyn and I were solid,” Gabe told me. “And if I’d found out that somebody else was sniffing around her, they’d have been sorry.”
    Maybe coming out here to talk to him wasn’t such a hot idea.
    “Look, I’ve got to get back to work,” Gabe said.
    I didn’t disagree.
    His anger disappeared in a heartbeat—which was kind of scary, too. It made me wonder about how comfortable Jaslyn really had been in their relationship. If she’d wanted to break up with him, would she have dared tell him?
    “So do you think she, you know, she ... suffered?” Gabe asked.
    It took a couple of seconds for me to realize that he was asking about Jaslyn’s death—the reason I’d lured him to this meeting in the first place.
    Really, I’ve got to get better about keeping up with things.
    “No,” I said, and I honestly believed it. “She looked peaceful. Like she was just sleeping.”
    Gabe nodded, then walked away.
    I took off in the opposite direction and wound my way through the resort grounds, anxious to get back to the hotel, where someone could hear me scream if necessary. I’d learned some useful info from Gabe that I’d have to follow up on, but the thing that stuck with me was his volatile temper.
    No way could I take him off of my suspect list.
    That meant I needed more info on Gabe. I could think of only one way to get it.
    I stopped near the bungalows, pulled out my cell phone, and called Detective Shuman. He answered on the second ring.
    “How’s the vacation?” he asked.
    Shuman sounded relaxed—like he was the one on vacay.
    “I need a favor,” I said. “Can you do a background check on a guy for me?”
    I guess Shuman picked up on the distress in my voice, because immediately he switched to cop mode.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    Shuman in cop mode was really hot—but I was too rattled at the moment to properly appreciate it.
    “I’m just picking up a weird vibe from somebody here,” I said.
    “Are you involved in the murder investigation?” Shuman asked, and I could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer and wasn’t happy about it.
    “You don’t understand,” I said. “I don’t exactly