Biker's Virgin

“We have,” I nodded.

“It was in the little Hawaiian tart’s room, wasn’t it?” Mrs. Beaumont asked.

I was surprised at the venom in her tone, and immediately, alarm bells went off. “It was in her room,” I nodded. “Yes.”

Mrs. Beaumont looked a little too pleased for my liking. “If you fire her immediately, I will refrain from going to the police.”

I smiled pleasantly at her. “I was going to make a different suggestion. If you leave my resort immediately, I will refrain from going to the police.”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Beaumont’s face changed instantly.

“The choker was found in Ms. Kama’s room,” Molly interjected. “But we know that someone planted it there.”

“That’s nonsense,” Mrs. Beaumont said immediately.

“You’ll find that it’s not,” I said, just as we heard another knock on the door.

Molly went to answer it, and a few seconds later, Ben walked in with Simon in tow. Simon was looking exceptionally guilty, and the truth was plastered across his face. When I glanced at Mrs. Beaumont, I saw that despite her calm exterior, she had turned pale.

“Simon,” I said, stepping forward. “We have footage of you sneaking into Alani’s room yesterday. You planted a diamond choker in her drawer in order to frame her.”

“I… No… Sir…”

“I will have to inform the police about this,” I told him. “But this will all go a lot easier for you if you confess the truth. Now.”

“I didn’t—”

“We have you on camera, Simon,” Molly said, stepping forward. “We have all the proof we need. What we don’t have is a motive. Why would you take the whole blame for someone else? Please, tell me what happened.”

Simon looked at her for a second and then his panic won out. “My mother is sick,” he said desperately. “She needs an operation, and I needed the money… Mrs. Beaumont offered me a thousand dollars if I did what she asked.”

“Mrs. Beaumont,” I said, turning to the pale-faced woman.

“You fucking idiot,” Mrs. Beaumont looked livid. “Shut your damn mouth.”

Simon was sobbing quietly, and Mr. Beaumont was looking at his wife as though she had just grown a second head. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“Don’t even bother,” I said bitingly, and then I turned back to Mrs. Beaumont. “I don’t understand; why did you want to frame Alani?”

“The whore was fucking my husband—”

“She was doing no such thing,” Molly said, cutting in. “She was trying desperately to avoid your husband’s inappropriate advances. She should press charges and have him convicted of sexual assault.”

“What proof does she have?” Mr. Beaumont demanded.

“We have footage of you offering Alani that choker,” Molly informed him. “The same choker that your wife planted in her room to frame her.”

“I should go to the police,” I said. “Both of you deserve to go to jail. But I suppose it’s enough to know that you deserve each other. I want you out of my resort in the next hour.”

“I want my choker back,” Mrs. Beaumont called out.

Ben produced the choker from his jacket pocket. “You can have it back,” he said, handing it over. “It’s not even worth a thousand dollars, let alone a million.”

“Ben,” I said. “You can supervise their departure. Simon, follow me.”

He followed Molly and me out the door. We went back to my office, and just as we were about to enter, Molly stopped me.

“Tristan,” she said, whispering so that Simon wouldn’t be able to hear. “What are you going to do with him?”