Free The Last Resort (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner Page B

What if he had had a weapon? I tried to shake the “what-ifs” from my mind. But I couldn’t forget the intensity of his hatred. And his hands on my breasts. Had Paul merely been challenging me to a fight? His hands straying to grope along the way? I thought of Jack and Nikki’s playful sparring. Paul had witnessed it, too. It might have given him the idea.
    Or had Paul’s leap been the first step of an attempted rape? I shivered as I faced the thought.
    I told myself that he was just a kid. But somehow that didn’t comfort me. Then I wondered if Suzanne had been sexually assaulted before she was murdered. The hair went up on the back of my neck.
    And what the hell was I supposed to do now? Call the police? Tell them a fifteen-year-old boy had copped a feel? Or talk to his parents? His father was in another world, another universe really, and his mother was actively denying any serious family problems. Would either of them even believe me? And what would they do to Paul if they did? Something that would help? Or something that would push him further into violence? My mind was whirling faster and faster. It ached from the activity.
    I rose to my feet and straightened my posture. Decisions could be postponed. It was time to take care of myself. I took a deep breath and sank into the tai chi form once more.
    Ten minutes later I had finished my tai chi for the day. And I had reached a conclusion. I would talk to Paul Beaumont myself. And I wouldn’t speak to the police or his parents, not unless his assault on me was related to Suzanne’s murder. I sighed. Some “unless.” Now, all I had to do was to figure out who had killed Suzanne. And why.
    I searched my mind as I walked to my room. I just didn’t have enough information. But Felix Byrne might be able to get me some, I thought. I speeded up to a trot. Felix was my best friend Barbara’s boyfriend, but more important, he was a reporter. One who liked to dig. The things he could find out about people amazed me, even worried me at times. And he owed me. If it hadn’t been for me, he wouldn’t have met Barbara. And he wouldn’t have scooped the Marin murder story that landed him his job as western correspondent for the Philadelphia Globe .
    I opened my door, shielded my eyes against the glare of the psychedelic wallpaper, and sat down to dial Felix. As the phone rang, I crossed my fingers and hoped he remembered he owed me. It seemed to me he had once mentioned that I owed him for all the information he had gathered for me in the past.
    “You’re involved in another one?” was his only comment when I told him why I had called.
    “Not me,” I said. “Craig. I was nowhere near the place when it happened.”
    “Likely story,” he grumbled. “I suppose you want me to spend the day at the computer, running down all the suspects.”
    “How’s Barbara?” I asked. A subtle reminder.
    “Barbara is fine. She told me you’d be calling.” It made sense. Barbara was a practicing psychic. Between her and Felix, privacy didn’t stand a chance. “I get the story, whatever you find out?” he asked.
    “Of course,” I assured him. I kept the hesitation out of my voice and told myself the murderer couldn’t be Craig.
    “As soon as you find out?” he pressed.
    “Right,” I said. Luckily he hadn’t been specific. As far as I was concerned, “as soon as” could mean that minute, that day or that century.
    “Okay,” he said. His voice deepened with ghoulish anticipation. “Who are the suspects?”
    By the time I put down the phone, I realized just how little I did know about the people at Spa Santé. With the exception of Craig and Don Logan, I didn’t even know where the guests lived when they weren’t on vacation, or where the Beaumonts or Avery Haskell had lived before the spa. I could almost hear Felix shaking his head in disgust when he had elicited the last of my meager information.
    I lay back on my bed and wondered. Had one of these people crossed