Getaway Girlz (29 page)

THE GIRLS headed down the beach on their search for Stella going in the opposite direction from where Jon was killed. Vivian didn’t want to get near that spot. In fact, she wanted to avoid it for the rest of their vacation.

Lucy walked fast, pumping her arms and leaving the others behind. She looped around the pool at the next hotel then marched in place, keeping her heart rate up, while she waited for the girls.

“Keep movin’,” she said to them and resumed her pace down the beach.

By the time the three girls arrived at the next hotel, Lucy was nowhere to be seen. Vivian started to panic. They had broken their buddy system rule and this was the result. Had Ponytail kidnapped Lucy? Or maybe she was attacked by Crazy Stella?

Just as she was about to start screaming Lucy’s name, she walked out of the hotel shaking her hands.

“No paper towels in their restroom. What a dive.”

“Lucy!” Vivian used her ‘Mom’ voice. “You scared me to death! Don’t run off like that. I thought you had been snatched.”

“Excuse me, but I had to use the restroom and if y’all could have kept up it would have been no big deal.”

“Look,” Wendy said. “We realize you’ve come from an anti-oxygen climate and feel invigorated by this shit, but we’re huffin’. If you don’t slow down my eggs and
frioles
are going to make another appearance.”

“If you hadn’t eaten that huge breakfast– ”

“Maybe I’d be okay if they’d had grits!”

Vivian interrupted. “Ladies, ladies. Let’s chillax and stay focused.” She turned to Lucy. “Lucy, please slow down. I’m not able to look for Stella walking this fast.”

Kate wagged a finger at Lucy as they resumed their search. “Buddy system. No more rule breaking.”

They found a happy medium between speed walking and ambling and continued the hunt. The next several beach-front hotels had small pools and the guests could easily been seen as they passed. No one resembled Stella, though one woman caught Vivian’s eye.

“Is she wearing a scarf? Seriously? In 80 degrees?”

“Looks like,” Kate said. “Maybe she’s got hickies to hide.”

They looped the pools of several other hotels with no success. About a mile down the beach, bars took the place of hotels so they decided to turn around.

On the walk back, Lucy pointed out a woman lying on a towel in the sand. “That right there, is why y’all need to wear SPF 75 at all times.”

Vivian glanced at her out of the corner of her sunglasses. She was horrified. The woman resembled a raisin and it was difficult to determine if she was in her twenties or fifties. Her skin looked like dry, crusty leather.

“People need to know when to say no to tanning,” she said. “That’s just down right ridiculous.”

“She’s off the pale scale,” Wendy said.

The man sitting beside her stood up, revealing his banana hammock. However, no banana filled the hammock.

Kate shook her head. “That’s awful.”

Wendy gasped. “Horrible.”

“Dear god,” Vivian said.

“He’s wearin’ it loud and proud, though,” Lucy said.

This got a round of laughs and the couple looked their way. Vivian waved and continued on.

The beach at their hotel was more populated when they got back, so Vivian stopped to ask a few folks if they had seen Stella, describing her in detail. No one had, so the four headed up to the room to freshen up. Lucy started searching for bugs.

“Lucy, I think we’ve pretty much covered everything,” Vivian said.

She didn’t look convinced and kept at it. “You never know. They can be sneaky.”

The search turned up nothing, as Vivian expected.

They left the room and Lucy put the “do not disturb” sign on the door.

“We don’t need the room cleaned,” she said nonchalantly.

“Lucy, I’m not sure that would deter anyone from breaking in and putting bugs in our room, but if it makes you feel better, okay,” Kate said as she walked down the stairs.

Lupe Mendoza, the reporter from
Escándalos
, waited just outside the hotel lobby. She shoved a tape recorder in Vivian’s face and started in. “Who was the mysterious woman you chased at the market yesterday? Where did you go after you left the ruins? When did you get back to the hotel last night? What did you have to do with Jon Tournay’s murder?”

This drew the attention of a few more reporters who had gathered at the hotel, and they rushed over.

Lucy pushed Lupe’s recorder away from Vivian. “Get the hell outta our way. She didn’t have anything to do with Jon’s murder.”

Wendy and Kate shoved other reporters aside, saying, “No comment,” several times. The reporters followed them to the edge of the pool deck but no further. Vivian heard shouting, which drew the reporters attention back to the hotel. Vivian didn’t turn around to see what the commotion was about.

Manuel settled them into four chairs. “I no let them bother you,” he said, nodding toward the reporters as he pushed Lucy’s umbrella open.

“Thank you so much, Manuel. We appreciate that,” Lucy said, adjusting her sunglasses. “Can we have four waters, too, please.”

She then pulled out a plethora of sunscreen from her bag and passed it out to the girls. They obediently applied, helping each other out when necessary. Then they leaned their chairs back and enjoyed the sun. Well, except for Lucy, who had maneuvered her lounger to encapsulate herself in shade.

“Lucy, you just covered yourself in sunscreen!” Vivian said.

“Yeah, but I won’t ever look like the California raisin lady we saw a little bit ago.”

“Can we drink yet?” Wendy said, holding up her water. “Something besides this?”

Kate looked up at the sky, as if she were telling time
Crockadile Dundee
-style. “It’s not 5 o’clock yet.”

“Oh behave, just until the party. You’ll thank me later!” Lucy retorted.

Vivian leaned over to Wendy and told her they’d sneak shots when Lucy wasn’t looking.

“I heard that,” Lucy said.

Kate ran doomsday-esque scenarios about Jon’s murder and subsequent events. The girls arrived back at the same decisions about suspects and where and how to look for them: Beach for now, Ponytail no-way, Stella will find them and Shorty at his party later. Vega sucks, Arturo rocks, and jail in Mexico is out of the question.

After the recap, Vivian needed to relieve stress and had noticed the hotel masseurs set up shop behind them on the beach. Four tables, long, flowy drapes surrounding them and a sign that said $25 USD for an hour was too inviting to pass up.

“I’m going to get a massage,” Vivian said peeling herself out of her chair. “You can’t beat $25 bucks and who knows, it could be my last one. Anyone else want to go?

“I’ll go with you,” Lucy said. “I learned my lesson, buddy system.”

They returned a few minutes later, big grins on their faces.

“What’s up?” Wendy asked, removing her sunglasses.

“We have lined up massages right now, for all four of us,” Vivian said to Wendy and Kate. “Manuel is saving our spots so come on.”

“I don’t know…a massage right here in front of everyone?” Kate asked.

“Yes,” Vivian knew Kate was worried about removing her swimsuit and added, “you don’t have to get totally naked if you don’t want to. Plus, they put you under the sheet.”

Wendy, enthusiastically, and Kate, semi-reluctantly, followed Vivian and Lucy to meet their masseurs — three Hispanic women and one thirty-something white guy.

The man was of slim build with neatly trimmed brown hair and goatee. He delicately shook hands with Lucy.

“I’m Rodney, and this is Gloria, Maria and Isabella. Go ahead and get on a table, face down. Keep everything on.” He patted the table he was standing beside and Lucy hopped up. “Once on the table, you can remove your top, or not, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Everyone got half-naked, except Kate. The masseurs got to work, asking each of them if there was a particular spot they needed worked on.

“My lower back,” Vivian said. “You can go to town.” Since carrying the mongo-twins to full term, her back had never been the same.

Isabella rubbed something fabulous smelling in her hair. Then moved down and worked on her feet. Vivian sighed as the tension started draining away.

Lucy’s masseur was chatty, telling them he had been in Playa del Carmen for a year. He was from Colorado and used to work at The Ritz Carlton in Bachelor Gulch, which he highly recommended.

“That place is fan-f-ing-tastic,” he said. “You girls should totally go there.”

“Mmmm, good idea,” Lucy said, sounding relaxed.

“Did you hear a guy was killed on the beach here the other night?” he asked.

Wendy lifted her head. “Yeah, we’ve definitely heard about it,” she said in a tone indicating she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Jon was hot. I had given him a massage,” Rodney said and sighed. “His friend Pierre is cute, too. I heard they were hanging out with a local bad boy. I don’t understand it.”

“You mean Julio?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, honey. He and his two girlfriends come into our spa, the Tropical Paradise, just down the way, on Quinta Avenida. Actually, today is their usual day but they cancelled.”

“I bet he’s getting ready for his party tonight.” Kate’s words were muffled coming through the round face thingy.

“Party?” Rodney asked.

“Julio’s having a big blowout tonight at his
casa
,” Lucy said. “He invited us.”

“Oh, I want to go!” Rodney said in his best scandalous voice.

“I bet it’s the more the merrier. Wanna come?” Lucy responded.

He did a little jump and clap. “I’d love to!”

Vivian glanced over to Kate’s masseuse. She was giving Wendy’s masseuse a “look.”

Lucy saw it, too. “Is it a bad idea for us to go? Will we be in danger?”

Wendy’s masseuse muttered under her breath, “
Tenga cuidado
.”

Wendy translated. “She just told us to be careful.”

Uh oh
…

THE GIRLS returned to their loungers on the beach, and between the massage and the warmth of the sun, Vivian dozed off pretty quickly into a happy nappy. She had been out for a while when a shadow cast over her face. She opened her eyes reluctantly and saw Al’s broad smile.

“Hey cupcake, kill anyone today?”

Vivian was speechless.

“I’m just kiddin’, sugar.” He winked.

He tossed a newspaper into her lap. “You gals made headlines. Have you seen the
Escándalos
today?”

“What?” She sat up and grabbed the paper. Sure enough, a picture of them in
ponchos
and
sombreros
graced the front page.

The girls gathered around to get a look. Wendy translated the headline. “American Murder Suspect Chases Woman down Quinta Avenida.”

“At least we aren’t as recognizable in our get-ups,” Lucy pointed out.

“And my tutti-frutti hat,” Kate added.

“Yes, and your tutti-frutti hat,” Lucy concurred.

“You looked fruitylicious in your hat, Kate,” Vivian told her.

“You gals look like you were attacked by the fleas from a Mexican flea market,” Al commented.

“Actually, we did this to ourselves in a musical moment,” Kate admitted and then added, “with Pierre’s help.”

Al slowly shook his head. The corners of his mouth turned up and his face was a little red. He was clearly trying not to bust out laughing.

Vivian cleared her throat to get their attention. “Wendy, can you read the rest of the article?”

“Okay, but the translation might be a little sketchy.”

She grabbed the paper. “The police. Quinta Avenida yesterday. Information from shop owners. Testimonies. Group of women and a man in merchandise of tourists and to take – that’s not the right translation, carrying musical instruments.
Persiguió
– I don’t know that word, pursued, maybe, another woman down the street. Something about spectators.

“We might have knocked a few of them out of the way in our chase,” Vivian said.

“Yeah, that must be it. Okay, one of the women is a participant, no suspect, in assassination of Jon Tournay. A Canadian celebrity. Police haven’t released her name.”

“Assassination. Oh god,” Kate said.

“Store owner, Pedro Montoya, said the women were in his shop, playing with the merchandise when they commenced the persecution.”

“We didn’t persecute anybody yesterday,” Lucy said.

“It’s the translation. I think it really means chase. Only high school Spanish, okay? Cut me some slack. It goes on to say they paid for the merchandise but only at insistence of the police. It finishes saying no one involved in the chase would comment.”

Vivian was speechless.

Lucy wasn’t. “The nerve of that reporter! She makes us sound like horrible people.”

“We should go talk to her right now and set her straight. That bitch!” Kate was evidently pissed off, too.

“Calm down, ladies, you don’t want to go talk to Lupe.” Al bit the tip of his cigar and spit it out. “You won’t be able to set her straight. You keep refusing to talk to her so she’s getting back at you. She wants you to approach her and make a scene. That would make more news and be another great headline.”

“I just can’t believe how she slanted this article to make it sound like we’re the bad guys!” Kate said. “And she didn’t even mention my hat.”

“Al is right, we don’t need to talk to Lupe, at all, ever.” Vivian snatched the paper and threw it under her chair. “She will only make us, mainly me, sound like murderers or ‘assassins’ as she put it. So far we’ve only been in the local Playa paper. I can’t have news of this getting back home and to Rick. Let’s just lay low. If we make a scene, you can bet Nancy Grace or somebody will be down here in a flash trying to interview me.”

Lucy, Wendy and Kate nodded in consent.

“I have more news.” Al pointed at Vivian with his unlit stogie. “I saw that Ponytail fella here at the hotel yesterday. I think he was here looking for you.”

“That S.O.B. won’t leave us alone.” She was pissed off Ponytail snooped around their hotel.
Maybe he’s the bug planter
?