Bare-Naked Lola (A Lola Cruz Mystery) (17 page)

A la chingada
. This was real.

She handed Lucy and me towels. “I keep a bunch in the back so I always have a clean one. You have to have a towel to sit on.”

Lucy outstretched her hand. “Lucy. Nice to meet you, Selma. I hope it’s okay with you that I tag along.”

Selma shrugged. “It’s your body. I think it’s great that you embrace it.”

“Right,” Lucy said. “It’s great.” There was that smidgeon of hesitation again, but she added, “In all its stretchmarked glory.”

We followed Selma up the short flight of deck stairs and entered the office. One woman and one man stood behind a counter. Neither of them seemed very glad to be there. Or maybe it was the fact that they were both clothed that had them looking morose. I heaved a sigh, not realizing I’d been holding my breath. I, for one, was relieved at their clothing, even if they weren’t.

The woman greeted us, then Selma gestured to Lucy and me. “Tiffany, these are some friends of mine. They’re coming in with me tonight.”

“Welcome.” The woman, Tiffany, greeted us. She pulled out two four-by-six index cards. “Your first time?” We nodded, and she continued. “Wonderful. This way, ladies. I just need to go over the rules.”

We followed her through the office, past racks of brochures, dietary supplements, sunscreen, sunglasses, and flip-flops, and out onto an indoor balcony that overlooked a large dance floor. A disco ball hung down from the center of the room, strands of lights draped to the edges of the ceiling.

My gaze extended beyond the disco ball and out through the panoramic windows. The view was breathtaking. A lake was off to the right. Evergreens skimmed the blue sky. And to the left…Oh my. My eyes bugged. A wave of naked bodies moved over the grass. A group of people played volleyball in a sand pit, body parts flinging this way and that.

¡Dios mío!
I could feel the nightmares coming on.

I whipped my head around to face the wall in the clubhouse room and my eyelids opened even wider. The wall was covered with framed pictures of naked people. I turned away but flesh and naked bodies danced behind my eyelids, the images burned into my brain.

Tiffany’s voice brought my attention back to her and her safely clothed body. I had the feeling I’d seen her before, but if I had, I couldn’t place her. Working at Abuelita’s, and now seeing all the Royals fans, meant I was in contact with a lot of people. “I just need your names, addresses, and the twenty-six dollar day-use fee.”

After I paid for Lucy and me, Tiffany clasped her hands. “The expectation is that when you’re on the grounds, you
are
nude.”

“I thought we could take our time.” Or had Selma been leading me on?
Mentirosa
. She was a good liar.

Lucy wasn’t fazed, though. “Great,” she said, suddenly enthusiastic beyond reason. She rubbed her hands together like she couldn’t wait to strip down to her birthday suit. What happened to the little sliver of doubt she’d had earlier? Was this a midlife crisis for her? Again? But she was a young mom, nowhere near middle age, so that wasn’t it.
Híjole
. She was an earth mother type with her blond hair woven into two braids, a leather strap necklace, and her Birkenstocks—always her shoe of choice. Maybe she’d fit in here.

“Okay,” I murmured.

“Is this your first time at a naturist resort?”

I smirked. “Does it show?”

She laughed. “Uh, yeah.”

I perched on the edge of the bar stool at the café table. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Selma craned her head to look out the windows at the people, searching for Parker, no doubt, but Lucy was just enjoying the scenery.

“What’s the difference between a naturist and a nudist?”

“No difference,” she said. “We prefer to use the term ‘naturist’ because women tend to be more receptive to the concept if the word ‘nude’ is removed from the equation. Our philosophy is that we are more accepting of our natural state of existence, uninhibited by the clothing that society restricts us with. We are body and soul, together, intertwined, inseparable.”

Sounded like psychobabble to me. “How do men and women deal with each other when they’re naked? I mean, what about”—I leaned in—“sex?”

Tiffany smiled indulgently. “Being nude here isn’t about sex. In fact, believe it or not, there is probably less sexuality between people here than at a bar off the grounds.”

No orgies? No hedonism? I couldn’t fathom how that was possible. How could it
not
be sexual?

“I can see you’re not sure, Ms…?”

“Cruz.”

“Look at it this way. When kids run around the house after a bath, it’s not sexual. It’s fun. Think of this place as Disneyland for adults. It’s like being a kid again. When you grow up this way, it’s completely normal.” She gestured to her shorts and T-shirt. “Wearing clothes is not.”

I’d rather just go visit Mickey Mouse.

Lucy and I filled out the cards. Selma excused herself to the restroom and I seized the moment.

“Tiffany,” I said. “A woman Selma knows, Jennifer. She came here a lot and she just died…”

Tiffany’s demeanor changed instantly. The faint smile she’d held dropped into a sad frown and her eyes glazed. “I-I’ve known Jennifer forever,” she choked out. “None of us can believe she’s dead. Hit us all really hard.”

“I can imagine.” I paused, hating to intrude on her grief. Finally, I went on. “Selma said she had a boyfriend here?”

Tiffany gathered the cards, her hands shaking slightly. “If she did, she never told me.”

Damn. So much for this being easy. “How many people come to
Cuerpo y Alma
?”

She moved back toward the office. “We have more than twelve hundred distinct people through here annually.”

¡Ay, caramba!
That was a lot of nudists. “And they all check in like we did?”

Tiffany bristled underneath her oversize T-shirt and baggie shorts. “Why are you so curious, Ms. Cruz?”

I laughed, fluttering my hand. “Just nervous, I guess. I knew Jennifer. She loved it here. That’s why I wanted to try it, you know? And I’m not sure if her boyfriend here knows about her death.”

She considered me and finally said, “People come here confidentially.”

Hmmm. Wish
I’d
thought to use an alias. Just in case.

I thanked her as Selma came back.

“I’ll show them around,” Selma said. I followed her gaze to the wall clock. It was 7:20.

“So, about the clothes?” I asked Tiffany, praying she’d take pity on me and bend the rules a bit.

“You can take a few minutes before you disrobe, but absolutely
no clothing
is allowed in the pool areas.”

So Selma hadn’t misled me. Phew. I turned to wave and Tiffany leveled her gaze at me. “Absolutely none.”

I whipped my head around and frowned at Selma. I’d put my bikini on under my sundress, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t be overly strict. “No clothes in the hot tub? Not even a bathing suit? No flexibility?”

“It’s a nudist resort,” Selma said, leading us down the staircase outside. “Since you agreed to come, I assumed you wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

She’d assumed wrong. Once again Jack’s voice echoed in my head.
How far are you willing to go for your job, Cruz?

Chapter Fifteen

Selma strode toward the hot tub, peeling off her T-shirt along the way. I gaped at the sight of so much bare skin, sucking in my breath. I turned my back on her, my mouth hanging open, stunned speechless—and saw Lucy slipping one arm through the hole of her sundress. Out popped one breast, free and surprisingly perky considering the three babies who’d suckled it.

I’d known she was going to do it, but seeing it sent a wave of guilt through me. “Lucy!”

“When in Rome,” she said, grinning, not a trace of hesitation in her voice. Then she threaded her other arm through the hole and slowly lowered her dress to her hips.

I grabbed her and pulled her to a stop before she could bare the rest of her body. “Lucy, you should rethink this. Zac wouldn’t want the mother of his children going naked at a place like this.” All the flesh on display. “You don’t know these people.”

She held on to her dress at her hips. “He doesn’t know, remember? And I’ll never see them again.” She started inching the dress lower.

“George Clooney is not here,” I said, going straight to the man who topped her stripper list. “This is not a fantasy.”

“If he
was
here, there’s no way I’d drop the dress.” She gestured to her breasts. “These have seen a bit too much action to entice a man like George.”

“But your husband loves them.” They really were quite nice.

“You two coming?” Selma demanded. I turned to find her staring at us in all her hairless glory. My gaze slipped down. She embraced the Brazilian.

My body was still covered by my sundress and Lucy was still topless. We’d be kicked out of here before long, but I was pretty sure I’d discovered my professional boundaries. Partial nudity, okay, but full-on bare-naked Lola? Nope. That wasn’t in my P.I. job description.

“Be right there,” I said with a nervous wave, racking my brain to come up with a solution. Lucy and I fell into step and I took in the array of bodies around us. No one paid special attention to Selma, but disdainful stares were being lobbed at Lucy and me by the bucketful.

“Guess we’re a tiny bit conspicuous with our clothes on,” I said.

Lucy stood slack-jawed. “Who knew they came in so many shapes and sizes?”

“Breasts?” I asked.

“Noooo,” she said, “but there
is
a lot of variety there, too.”

“Oh!” My conscience was having a conflict with my eyes, fighting them about what to focus on. My gaze was on autopilot, though, and drifted down. I had to fight to drag it back up.

I didn’t want to look.

I didn’t know
where
to look.

A man in his mid-thirties walked by. He was lean and muscular. My gaze drifted down again and Jack flashed into my mind. I’d seen him in his altogether—but it had been through a foggy windshield when we’d been teenagers and I’d been stalking him to hone my investigative skills. I could imagine being with him in the hot tub—

No! I pushed him out of my mind. I caught Selma’s eye and notched my head toward the guy. “Is that him?” I mouthed.

She shrugged, but then shook her head. “Don’t think so,” she mouthed back.

In the pool, a few swimmers floated in the water, reveling in the Indian summer, and three more lounged in the adjoining hot tub. I clung to Lucy, as much to bolster myself as to keep her from dropping her dress. We walked through the gate onto the cobbled brick deck and headed straight for the hot tub. Selma dropped her T-shirt and towel on a lounge chair and stepped into the water.

Lucy turned to me. “Well?”

I shrugged helplessly. What to do? What would my mother tell me? Stupid question. I could hear her shrill voice damning me to hell unless I said a million rosaries and promised my life to God and the convent. I couldn’t lead Lucy down this path if I wasn’t willing to take it myself. “We should go.”

“You have a job to do,” she reminded me.

Okay, maybe
she
was the one leading me down the path.

“Yes, but I’m sure I can find other ways to investigate the mysterious boyfriend.”

Selma was already engaged in a subdued conversation with a balding man who was probably in his sixties. Jennifer’s civilian boyfriend?

“Maybe,” Lucy said, “but are you willing to pass up this opportunity? Life is short, Lola. This is on my bucket list.”

Before I could answer, she winked at me and said, “Here goes nothing.” Then, quick as a flash, she dropped her dress and passed in front of me, her golden skin nothing but a blur as she plunged into the bubbling water.

¡Híjole!

“Lucy!” I hissed. But her eyelids had fluttered closed and she was moaning. Moaning! “This feels fabulous,” she said, a hint of heaven in her voice.

My breath started to come quickly and panic rose inside me. My hand pressed against my chest, comforted by the edges of my swimsuit underneath. It was now or never. Lucy wasn’t getting out, so I had to get in. Peer pressure. No matter how old you were, it never quite went away.

I sucked in the deepest breath I could manage and slipped out of my dress, slowly folding it and laying it on a nearby chair. I felt the heat of a hundred eyes on me. It could have been my imagination, but I doubted it, since I was overdressed, even in my bright floral bikini.

I twisted one arm behind me to undo the strap but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Mami would be so proud.

Something warm touched my shoulder. I jumped, whirling around, nearly knocking down the woman who stood before me. She was buck naked, except for the sympathetic expression she wore on her face. “They should have told you in the office, hon. Bathing suits are not allowed at the resort.”

“Not allowed,” I repeated vacantly. “It’s my first visit. They said I could take my time.”

“Not in the pool area,” she continued. “Everyone’s nude. No one will care once you’re undressed. Right now they care because you’re
not
.”

In a completely warped way, that made absolute sense. I silently pleaded with her. “I’ve never done this and I’m nervous. Can I get in first and then take it off?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, no. The first time is the hardest. It’s kind of like ripping off a bandage. Do it quickly, and it’ll be over.”

Selma and Lucy both stared up at me. “Come on, Lola,” Lucy said. “Be a risk-taker. You only live once…” I didn’t budge, so she added, “It really is freeing. And the water feels great. Totally different without a swimsuit on.”

The woman tapped me on the shoulder again. The sympathy was gone and she put her hands on her hips. The pointier parts of her body stood at attention like they could shoot bullets at me if I didn’t obey. “Miss,” she said, “you need to remove the suit or leave the pool area.”

“Okay, okay.”
Think, think!
I spied the towels on the chaise longue and grabbed the biggest one. Then, after wrapping it around my body, I carefully unhooked my bikini top and slipped it out from underneath.