Stolen In Paradise

Chapter 4: Gemma Jackman

Jackman felt like she was severely underdressed when she rocked up to the tourist area just outside of Nadi. She had passed it on her way to the Seashell, but she didn't get a very close look until now. She had virtually nothing to do during the half hour drive and seeing this definitely picked up her mood. She found it strange that despite being in a different country they still played the same old crap on the radio and she had no CDs with her. That's what she was going to pack next time she came here. Some decent fucking music.

The nimble Focus took an immediate sharp left turn down Queen's Road at the last second. Jackman was still getting through her hangover and she had almost missed the turn. As she rounded the bend she looked out to her right to see some rich folk swinging clubs in the massive golf course. It was an intricate course that was too well looked after with hundreds of bunkers and rivers decorating the thing. Jackman already knew she would've hated it here.

Her mind changed when she arrived out the front of the Radisson. She couldn't help but notice everything was made perfectly. It was like a CEO-friendly hotel with all those useless luxuries the 1% liked to have like warm towels for your hands and little baby soaps and hand sanitisers. Ugh. Rich people made Jackman sick. On second glance Jackman felt relieved as she saw people who were dressed within her socio-economic class inside. The place was fantastic, it was right on the beach with a beautiful ocean view. It was a heavenly white palace and it had one of those real artistic, but not practical, rooves which was bent at all sorts of unnatural angles. Traditionally, Jackman didn't appreciate such a waste of time and effort, but it looked rather nice. It was like humanity didn't give a fuck about physics and just went all out on the roof saying that they also didn't care if the rain couldn't get out of it either.

It was just so magnificent. There was a huge diamond shape buidling in the centre of the valet strip and flanked either side of it was a giant stretch of four storey apartments by the looks of them, but to be honest it reminded Jackman of some kind of magical castle and the apartments were the impenitrable walls. One could only gain access if they had the right amount of gold.

When Jackman pulled up to the front door she saw two Fijian gentleman rushing to her veichle with warm smiles. It would be absolutely perfect if it wasn't so close to the international airport just 10 kilometers down the road, maybe that would drop the price just a tad? Sure would be nice to stay here, Lord knew she deserved it.

"Hey there." Jackman said dismissively as she handed her frappe to one of the gentleman before virtually tossing her keys in the face of the other.

"Don't scratch it."

So that's what it felt like to be rich. She couldn't see herself getting used to it, especially since she wasn't dressed like a filthy rich person and she had a piece of shit rental she couldn't care less about.

Two more Fijian gentleman dressed in blue shirts and black slacks smiled as they opened the double doors to the hotel. Jackman put on her game face as she walked into the plush hallway and right up to the receptionist's desk, which suprisingly enough was also fancy and shaped like a curly fry. The gorgeous young lady behind the desk looked up from her computer screen and smiled brightly at Jackman.

"Hello miss, welcome to the Radisson Resort. Before I can assist you, may I start with your name?" She said ever so pleasantly in an easy to understand American accent. It made Jackman feel slightly insecure about herself, even if it were just for a second. The receptionist was perfect compared to her.

"Actually, I came to ask about the girl that went missing two days ago. Jessica Clark." Jackman said, holding up her phone which was displaying Jessica's Facebook profile picture. She didn't get a photo from David and she was sure it was her because the school she listed matched up to the profile he'd sent her. At least she was fairly sure.

The receptionist suddenly stopped to think for a moment, clearly now disturbed by Jackman's presence.

"Well." The receptionist said, trying to recall something useful before she gazed suspiciously at Jackman. "Who are you? Are you with the police?"

Jackman was about to tell her she was a Junior Detective, but she'd never believe that, even though it was 100% true. Jackman realised her badge was all the way back in her locker in King's Cross in Sydney. She didn't take it with her and now she was trying so hard not to dance on the spot while thinking of an excuse as quickly as possible.

"I'm a P.I. from out of town." Was all she could come up with. Ugh. P.I.s were cool back in the 1930s. Jackman felt delfated she couldn't use the usual I'm a King's Cross Detective because it always sounded so freakin' badass.

"I'm investigating this case for the Clarks." Jackman elaborated. "They are so distraught that their daughter went missing." She started to sound more empathetic. "Its such a terrible thing, too, poor Jessica. If you have any information that could help we would really appreciate it."

The receptionist looked confused for a moment, as if she were assessing Jackman's story.

"I don't know much." She said eventually as she leant in closer. She lowered her voice and everything. "But she checked in here half a week ago. She seemed like a nice girl, but she also seemed bored all the time. Travelling alone has to have its downfalls."

Jackman didn't necessarily agree with that, considering she'd already been laid.

"Did you see her often while she was still here?" Jackman asked. The receptionist shrugged.

"No, not really. She did spend most of her time here in the resort. Most guests do, though, this resort is fully self contained. Pools, restaurants, we even have a bar."

"When was the last time you saw Jessica?" Jackman enquired, the receptionist screwed her face up in thought.

"Not too sure. I think it was the night she went missing. You said two nights ago?"

"That's right."

"Yeah, it must've been then." The receptionist confirmed. "That was a Saturday night and I remember seeing her leave the resort with someone her age. You know, twenty, twenty five-ish."

"Was this person a guest at the resort here?"

"Yes they were, see you don't get very far past this desk if you're not. But this is such a big area and she was in a rush so I didn't have too much time to actually notice who was with her. So I don't know who the guest was, sorry."

Another tear appeared.

"She always came up to speak to me whenever she saw me. She was a friendly girl and loved small talk."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"Just mentioned a party that was supposed to be the best night out she could possibly imagine. She invited me, but I had to work." The receptionist wiped a tear from her eye. "Maybe if I had gone with her she wouldn't have ended up missing, you know? Maybe I could've looked out for her, because as far as I saw she had gone out that night with a total stranger. It just makes me mad thinking that I could've done something, maybe even warned her not to go."

"You had no idea this would've happened, don't beat yourself up over it." Jackman reassured. Sometimes she wished she felt as sympathetic as the receptionist. It would only be the right thing to do, wouldn't it? But no, Jackman originally felt like this was the great wall of China that was built to keep her out so she couldn't have any fun. She now realised that this was a very real case and she was the only one who could do anything about it.

Jackman put her phone back into her pocket and placed a caring hand over the receptionist's.

"You've helped me out a lot, but I need access to the resort. I need access to her room. Has it been refurbished yet?" Jackman pressed her tone ever so lightly. The receptionist dried her eyes and cleared her throat with a genuine smile of appreciation.

"No, it's been sealed off. The boss isn't too happy about it as well. Having police tape all over a hotel door isn't exactly tourist friendly. The police are already there if you want to chat with them." The receptionist handed Jackman a lanyard with the words All Access printed over it and pointed down the hall to her left.

"Room 206."

"Thanks very much." Jackman said as she headed off.