Trouble in Paradise - [3]

There’s no point arguing when she’s in a mood like this. We were suited up-our glowing winter-white bodies tastefully covered in sarongs-and marching toward the sand in under ten minutes.

“I’m going native,” Bailey said, pointing to a grass-roofed open bar. “Anyone want to join me in a fruity umbrella drink?”

“Some of us can’t afford the calories,” Toni said, shooting daggers at Bailey. “Get me a vodka soda.”

Bailey is one of those tall, lean types who can eat like a stevedore and never gain a pound. Having a metabolism so despicably impervious to weight gain is unforgivable. Yet we forgive her. And we tell her just how hard we plan to laugh when it all catches up to her. I saluted and fell in behind Bailey while Toni went to claim us a real umbrella and some lounge chairs. Bailey and I reached the open-air hut that housed the bar, and she leaned in toward the bartender, a short, dark-skinned young man with soulful eyes. “I’ll have a piña colada and two Ketel One and sodas with lime for my friends. Oh, and a bag of those potato chips, please.”

“Must you?” I asked.

“What?” Bailey replied, feigning innocence. “You don’t have to have any.”

I looked at her, exasperated. “Yeah, right.” Bailey was well aware that I could never resist.

Toni had scored us a primo spot close, but not too close, to the water. A gentle breeze blew the scent of lemon blossoms our way, thanks to all the lemon trees that had been planted around the hotel. The sun was just warm enough to feel good on our backs, and the sparkling water looked enticing. Perfect. We’d just dug our feet into the sand and raised our glasses to toast the beginning of our Caribbean island vacay when a skinny young woman in flowered Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt that said REALITY SUX scurried over to us. She darted a glance around the beach and nervously tucked a hank of long brown hair behind her left ear, then thrust out her hand. Her words shot out at us as though they were spring-loaded.

“Hi, I’m Erica. Erica Garber. Pleased to meet you and sorry for interrupting and everything. I’m not usually like this, seriously, I’m not. But I saw you guys in the lobby and I heard you were cops and I…” She finally paused, then swallowed with a near audible gulp and dragged in a heavy breath. “I need help. Seriously, big-time.”

“Then you’ll need to call the local police,” Bailey said. “We’re just-”

“I can’t go to the local police! I’ll be fired, I’ll never work again, my career will be ruined! You’ve got to help me.” She gave us a beseeching look that would’ve made Grover Norquist raise taxes.

I couldn’t stop myself. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m a production assistant on Tammy Susie and Company. I’m Tammy Susie’s wrangler-”

“Whose… what?” Toni wrinkled her brow.

“I’m Tammy Susie’s… well, basically, I’m her gofer.” Uttering those words unleashed Erica’s pent-up frustration. “My parents went into hock to put me through Harvard, I graduated with honors, won an award for my screenplay in drama lit class, and now I fetch caramel corn and Slurpees for a nine-year-old beauty-pageant runner-up.” She held up a hand. “Excuse me, sorry. Anyway, we’re taping here because the family wanted a vacation, so the producers decided to kill two birds with one stone by making their vacation an episode. The reason I’m jumping you like this is… she’s gone missing, and if I don’t find her quick, I’ll be out of a job.”

Oh, and a missing child was kinda bad news too. But I got why she couldn’t afford to call in the police. “As of when?” I asked.

“As of an hour and a half ago. She’s wandered off before, and the show gives her a limo to take her pretty much wherever and whenever, but-”

“So she might just be rolling around the island with her chauffeur,” Bailey said.

“She might, but I just… have a bad feeling about the way it all went down-”

“Which is?” I asked.

Erica swallowed again and took a deep breath. “We went shopping… she wanted to get ‘in character’ for her scenes with a fortune-teller-”

“Why on earth would you want to do a show with one of those crackpots?” Toni asked, incredulous.

“Fortune-telling is big on the island. The producers thought it would be fun to show all the high jinks Tammy Susie and her family got into. Anyway, Tammy Susie decided she wanted to wear something ‘Gypsy’ for the show, so I had to take her shopping. I think it was just an excuse to go to the Royal Plaza Mall. She loves that place.”

“Where’s the Royal Plaza Mall?” I asked. From what I saw on the way to the hotel, there was no shopping mall nearby.

“Downtown, in Oranjestad. The place looks like Disneyland… on crack. Tammy Susie loves it. We wound up at this little boutique. Tammy found a couple of skirts she liked, so she went to the dressing room to try them on. I stayed right outside… well, pretty close. I just went over to the jewelry counter for, like, maybe five minutes at most, but-”

“How’d you get to the mall?” I asked. “Did you take the limo?”

“No, we took a bus. Her choice. She said she was tired of always riding in a limo.”

“Who can blame her?” Toni asked, deadpan.