Afoot On St. Croix (Mystery in the Islands)
“Croix ~ 24 ~ Distinctive Feet STILL ON THE hunt for his dinner, Adam Rock returned to the bar inside the rainbow diner. Swiveling on his stool, he rotated his round body to survey the guests seated at the diner’s rows of tables.
His beady vision quickly honed in on a single female, seated alone at a table near the boulders on the lagoon edge of the restaurant.
Rising from the stool, Rock strolled a few steps across the room to get a better look. He leaned over the railing on the restaurant’s open wall and pretended to gaze out across the water.
He estimated the woman was in her late thirties. She was American, he judged, but not a tourist—she wore eyeglasses instead of sunshades. Nor was she a local. Her skin was far too pale.
A half-eaten plate of fish tacos had been pushed to one side while the woman scribbled in a small notepad. A professional-grade 35mm camera sat on the table beside the plate.
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