Bare-Naked Lola (A Lola Cruz Mystery) (16 page)

“We’ll figure this out.”

“Will you come to the resort? I’ll show you around. Maybe you can find something.”

The idea had already crossed my mind, but the direct proposition made a knife twist in my gut. First nearly nude as a Courtside Dancer, then totally in the buff at
Cuerpo y Alma
.

My thoughts skipped straight to Jack. The question he’d thrown out at the restaurant the night before shot into my mind. How far
was
I willing to go for my job?

I put off answering Selma, instead asking her, “Have you seen his car? Make and model?”

She shook her head.

Scratch that avenue off my list of possible means to track down a mystery nudist.

A lightbulb suddenly seemed to go off for Selma. “If he killed Jennifer, he would still follow his regular routine, right? So he wouldn’t, you know, raise suspicion? They always met at the hot tub.” Selma leaned forward as I took a sip of coffee. “I’m meeting Parker tonight. Come with me. You can go, you know, spy at the hot tub.”

The coffee caught in my throat. I snatched a napkin and held it to my mouth, trying not to spew it across the table at her. “Tonight?”

Selma brushed away the piece of hair that fell into her eyes. “If he’s there, you can talk to him. You’ll know if he’s the murderer, right?”

Ay,
loca
. My intuitive powers weren’t good enough to judge a naked man in a hot tub and determine if he’d recently killed a woman, as handy as that particular skill might be. I tried to picture myself in the steam bath at
Cuerpo y Alma
making that determination, but the faces bobbing in the water around me were those of my parents and grandparents, my grandmother clasping her beaded rosary between her pruned fingers, praying for my soul in an endless Spanish loop.

I blinked, chasing the vision away. I couldn’t tell them about this assignment; that’s all there was to it.

I started to wonder how Jack would take it. He understood my passion for this job. He’d been by my side, said we were a team, and didn’t mind me shimmying in cheerleading costumes. But a nudist resort was a big step over what I imagined his morality line to be.

I immediately scolded myself. I could tell him—after the fact. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. That was my motto today.
Mi novio
, Jack Callaghan, could not factor into my career decisions.

Selma tapped her fingernails on her front teeth.
Click. Click. Click
. The sound grated into my brain. “So you’ll come?” she finally asked.

I ran through my list of obligations. Dance practice was from three to six this afternoon. No shifts at the restaurant. And so far this was the only lead I had. “I’ll be there,” I agreed. The thought of pulsing, hot water on my aching muscles actually sounded pretty good.

As long as I had on my swimsuit.

Chapter Thirteen

I stood in the doorway of my cousin-in-law Lucy’s house. I’d just dropped the bomb about my destination and Lucy’s face exploded with emotion. “You’re what?”

My eardrums rattled. “For a case,” I explained.

“No way. You can not go there.”

I could usually count on Zac’s wife to back me up in an adventure whenever Reilly was unavailable. Which was a lot, thanks to her secret affair with Neil. I guess nudist resorts crossed the line, though.

“I thought you, of all people, would understand and be supportive.”

“Lola, this is so
not
you. First of all, you believe in accentuating your assets, not showing the full monty.”

She led me into the front room of her house, but I stopped and put my hands on my hips. “First of all, I think the full monty only refers to men. And second of all, what do you mean I like to
accentuate
my assets? I think I’m offended by that.”

Lucy cocked one eyebrow as she peered down at my outfit, then spread her arms wide and gestured to her own. “Uh, enough said?”

Pft
.

“No, not enough said.” So what if my new bra, recommended to me by the late Jennifer, enhanced the roundness of my cleavage under my V-neck T-shirt, and my knee-length skirt skimmed my hips in an oh-so-sexy fashion? “You like wraparound pants and fringe”—I gestured to her hippie outfit—“but you bleach your hair and wax your own eyebrows so I know you have some of this in you.”

She patted her platinum ponytail. “I happen to like my hair color and I don’t want to have furry eyebrows. But I’m a mom.”

“And?”

“And I’m a
mom
,” she said again, as if I’d understand the second time around.

“And that’s synonymous with unsexy in your book?”

She flipped her palm up toward the ceiling. “I’m just saying,
you
wear clothes that show off your body in the best light. My body’s past having a best light.” She winked. “And what you have going on works for Jack, right?”

I wagged my finger at her. “You’re a mom with a killer body. And we are
not
talking about Jack. I don’t even think I want him to find out about this. You have to promise. Not my parents, either. So you cannot, I repeat, can
not
tell Zac. Or Chely.” My fifteen-year-old cousin had the secret-keeping ability of a Gossip Girl on speed. “Or Antonio.”

Lucy frowned. “Why so top secret?”

“Because…” Because I had a job to do, and I knew my family wouldn’t approve. And Jack? He’d given me no reason to think he wouldn’t be on board with me doing my job, but a nudist resort might push the limits of his understanding. Which would be
no bueno
for our developing relationship. “It’s a case. A murder. And if I’d done a better job and found something out”—my voice hitched—“if I’d found
anything
out, maybe Jennifer Wallace wouldn’t have died.”

“You’re going tonight, then?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my stomach seizing with trepidation.

She led me into her workroom, a tranquilly decorated space full of browns and beiges, trickling water, and new age music. “A murder to solve. You’re going for a good cause. So, I’d say a wax job is in order.”

“That’s why I’m here. My eyebrows?”

She laughed,
un poquito
diabolically. “No, no, I mean
waxed
.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Is that code for something?”

“I could do a Brazilian,” she suggested, winking at me. My heart started in again like a sledgehammer in my chest.

“A Brazilian?” Talk about full monty. “I don’t think so.” Just the thought of it made me nauseous. “I’m good with a landing strip.”

“You should try it, Lola. Live a little. I got my friend to do mine a couple weeks ago, after Zac and I hit that rough spot.” She winked again. “He
loves
it.”

I covered my ears. “La-la-la-la. I don’t want to know this.” But it got me thinking again. What would Jack like?

She dragged in a deep breath and then said, “You’re going to see it tonight, so you might as well hear about it now.”

I sputtered. “I’m what?”

She handed me a gown and a paper thong and backed out of the spa room, pressing a button on the stereo as she passed by. Soothing music wafted out of the mounted speakers. “Come on, Lola, a murder? There’s no way I’m letting you go there alone. You couldn’t pay me to stay away.”

She wasn’t Mexican and didn’t speak Spanish, but the
punto
was implied. If I knew Lucy, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. I held the paper triangle attached to a Y-string. “Uh, really?”

“Just put it on.” I started to protest again but she held up her hand. “It doesn’t have to be Brazilian,
chica
. Don’t worry. I’ll just clean you up. Make it nice and tidy.”

And she closed the door, leaving me alone in her tranquil studio. I sighed. She’d called me
chica
. Lucy was going off the deep end. I undressed, slipped on the gown and thong, and lay down in the lounge chair. I was overdue for a cleanup. Detective work was keeping me too busy.

As I waited for Lucy to return, my mind wandered. How
would
Jack react to my going to a nudist resort? Heck, how did
I
feel about it?

Scared, that’s how. On both counts. I rubbed my temples. But it was the most viable lead I had, which meant I needed to follow it.

Lucy rapped lightly on the door and poked her head in. “
¿Lista?
”

I laughed at her horrible accent. “
Si
.”

She came back into the room, sat next to me, and got to work.

“If you’re coming, you’ll be lying to Zac and I can’t be a party to deception in your marriage,” I said as she spread warm wax along my panty line. The warmth was kind of nice. The calm before the storm. “He didn’t like the whole rehab thing you helped me with, remember? If he thinks you’re at it again, he’s going to forbid you from seeing me.”

“He thinks it’s pretty cool that you’re a dancer for the Royals,” she said, although I thought I heard a touch of hesitation in her voice. “Here we go.” She grabbed hold of the edge of the wax, said, “Take a breath,” and
whoomp
, she yanked it off.

I slammed my hands onto the sides of the padded table, bracing my body against the pain. Holy Mary Magdalene, mother of God. “
Hijo de la chingada
,” I said through my clenched teeth.

“No turning back now,” she said brightly.

I sat up on shaky elbows. “Why do women do this?”

Lucy pushed me down. She spread another layer of wax, checked her work from the last strip. “Because it’s sexy,” she said as she yanked.

I held tight to the edge of the table, a tear slipping out of my eye. “I always forget how much it hurts.”

“It’s like childbirth.” She grinned. “I’ll give you a facial when we’re done to make up for the pain.”

“C-can’t. No time. I go from this torture chamber to dance torture.”

“Right. Okay then. I’ll just see you tonight. No worries, Lola.” She zipped her lips and turned an imaginary key. “I got your back.”

It wasn’t my back I was worried about at the moment. It was my nude self.

Chapter Fourteen

An hour later I was in Victoria’s torture chamber learning new routines and outrageously seductive moves. The other dancers still hadn’t completely warmed up to me but Jennifer’s death had brought us closer to breaking the ice. They were all subdued, but had started to correct me on moves I was doing wrong. I took their comments with a thank you.

Arriving early to the next game would hopefully let me check out the facilities and snoop, but right now I had other plans. Selma and I gave each other a pointed, silent look. We’d be seeing each other shortly.
A lot
of each other.

I pulled into Camacho’s parking lot at six forty-five. Lucy was leaning against her car, her wraparound pants traded in for an aqua tank sundress with a white Egyptian wall-painting design, a fish prominently positioned front and center. I tried to tap into my supernatural powers to see if she had anything on underneath, but X-ray vision wasn’t one of my talents, either.

I spotted Selma slouched in her car, her finger tracing her lips. I waved to Lucy and walked over to Selma, knocking on the driver’s side window. She jumped, zipping the window down with a jittery hand.

“You got here quickly. Ready to go?” I asked.

“Ready.” Her low voice shook.

“Relax, Selma. I’m going to talk to people, ask questions, see if we can find anything out. It’ll be fine.”

She tapped her fingernails against her teeth.

“I’m bringing a colleague. We’ll follow you in my car,” I said.

Selma rolled up the window and waited while Lucy got into my car. Then, in a caravan of two, we headed out of Sacramento. Twenty minutes later, we were in an unincorporated country area, heading toward
Cuerpo y Alma
, the clothing-optional resort.

Lucy stared out the window at the passing ponds and fields, horses and cows dotting the landscape. “Jeez, this place is really in the middle of Nowheresville.”

“Yep.” I eyed her, still trying to figure out if she had on a swimsuit. “So are you really going to go naked?”

She grinned, pulling her platinum hair up into a claw clip. “Totally.”

“What did you tell Zac?”

Her grin faded. “I told him I was going out with you for some girl time.”

Oh boy. Zac was no fool. He’d see right through that and know we were up to something. “Lucy…”

“Relax. It’ll be fine.”

I turned right, following close behind Selma. “Are you going to tell him later?
After
my case is solved?”

She turned in her seat. “Lola, I’m my own person. Zac doesn’t tell me what to do or what to feel. He knows I love him. He has to trust me and love me for myself. Whether or not I’m willing to go naked at a resort. But don’t worry. I won’t blow your case.”

“If he knew, would he be jealous? You know, because other men would be gawking at you?” It’s what I worried about with Jack.

She hesitated, but then said, “A little healthy jealousy never hurt anyone.”

“Not true,” I said, frowning. “Jealousy is what got him thinking you were having an affair with one of your clients.”

“Right. But we’re much happier now.”

Selma’s car turned onto a private lane and I pulled in after her. It was a warm evening. Sacramento just couldn’t seem to let go of summer. Anywhere else, October meant cooler weather, which would mean fewer naturists stomping around, exposing themselves to the elements. Which would have been a good thing, in theory. But it was still a smoldering ninety degrees, and I thought that probably meant plenty of people would be milling around in their birthday suits. Which meant maybe I’d find out something about Jennifer.

Selma parked in the visitors’ lot and I slipped my car in next to hers. I’d put on a sundress after dance practice and smoothed it down over my legs, adjusting the hem around my knees.

Lucy tucked her purse under the front seat of the car and I did the same, locking up and clutching my keys and three twenty dollar bills in one hand.

Selma stepped out of her car. She had on an oversize white T-shirt, her bare legs sticking out from underneath. My gut clenched as she leaned in to grab some towels from the backseat of her car and the T-shirt slid up to reveal bare skin.