Upstate Uproar

The Getaway Girlz — Vivian, Wendy, Lucy and
Kate — retreat to upstate New York to help Wendy cope with her
fiancé’s disappearance. Instead of lazy lakeside afternoons and
picturesque hikes, the girls plunge into a cold case (drowning) and
dig up trouble (human remains). Their quaint B&B holds secrets
from the past, giving Kate haunting dreams. Lucy’s momentary
meltdown brings in much-needed muscle, Pierre La Roche, whom they
met in Playa del Carmen on their first getaway. Vivian’s fireman
fling, Larson, can’t stop the combustion of boats, houses and
automobiles that ensue. Despite the deadly drama, these four
friends take on Lake Placid’s tourist attractions and peculiar
people, whipping up a dangerous firestorm on this unforgettable
Adirondack adventure.

By

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Rita Rox, Inc.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
dialogue, places and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imaginations or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or
locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage
piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’
rights.

Lyrics of Josh Weathers used with
permission.

ISBN: 13: 978-098567-3-6-6-6

Library of Congress Control Number:
2015934258

To Ashley – you’re the sweetest, cutest,
funniest, silliest goose ever.

I love you, Momma

This one’s for you Big Lou – with love,
Johnell

K
ate took one last
sip of mango margarita, set her glass down on the dock and jumped
into the lake. The cool water was welcome after the heat of the
day, and it got cooler and cooler the further she went. A pain shot
through her leg and she stopped swimming to rub her calf with one
hand while treading water with the other arm. The pain struck
again, this time in both legs, extending up her thighs, causing her
to gasp and swallow water.

Help me! Help me
, she thought as she
coughed. “Help,” she sputtered, but because of her coughing, it was
barely audible. She knew she was in trouble. Her head was just
above water.

She tried to swim to shore, but her legs
wouldn’t work. She attempted a couple of strokes, letting her legs
dangle, but the pain moved up her back and into her arms. Her heart
raced as she slipped completely under.
No! Have to get to
shore!

Kate kicked as hard as she could, trying to
break the surface, but the cramping refused to yield. Beams of
sunlight streaked through the water, providing no help as her lungs
burned, yearning for the precious oxygen that floated in bubbles
around her. Despite her efforts not to breathe, she involuntarily
inhaled.

She coughed and spattered, water invading her
nose and mouth. She reached down to feel the living being that had
been growing within her for almost five months, but it was gone. A
new panic and sadness embraced her, but she knew it was too late.
The rays of light faded as she sank lower and lower.

V
ivian Taylor’s heart
pounded and she gripped the armrests of her middle seat. “Oh my
god!” The sweater she had put on that morning in preparation for
brisk autumn weather was now suffocating.
What was I thinking
wearing this?

Wendy Schreiber turned the page of the
in-flight magazine. “Geez, Viv, it was just a little
turbulence.”

The plane shuddered again and Vivian
whimpered, then groaned as the seat belt light flashed on and the
captain’s voice rang out. “We’ve got a patch of storms ahead, but
we’ll be through it in no time. Flight attendants, please take your
seats.”

From the back of the plane, Vivian watched as
the passengers’ heads jerked in unison as the 737 hit another rough
spot. “I hate it when the captain says that!” She reached across
Wendy and pulled down the shade.

Wendy tucked the magazine into the seatback
pocket and pushed her long, brown hair behind her shoulder. “You’re
such a chicken, and it’s so unlike you. I’m not excited about it,
but it’s just a little turbulence.”

The plane dropped and Vivian’s stomach
lurched into her throat. “That was not a little, that was a
lot.”

“Okay, that was more.” The right wing dipped,
then leveled out. “But that was less.”

“That was definitely NOT less. We’re gonna
die!” Tears leaked out of Vivian’s eyes and ran down her cheeks.
She lifted her blonde curls off her neck, trying to cool down.

Wendy grabbed the magazine and started
fanning her. “Seriously, Viv, we’re going to be okay. What is with
you?”

The plane hit another hard bump, causing
Vivian to scream, her green eyes round with fright.

An older man in business attire who was
seated across the aisle leaned over and looked at them, then slowly
leaned back against his seat and continued working on his
laptop.

Vivian couldn’t help but laugh, which is
often how she dealt with fear. Her lack of control and not being
able to see out the windshield was sending her over the edge. She
wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, then white-knuckle-gripped the
armrests. The plane hit another air pocket, dropping what felt like
500 feet. She leaned forward and closed her eyes. “That was more. A
LOT more.”

“No, that was less, definitely less than the
one before,” Wendy said and kept fanning.

“I don’t want the swimming pool slut to raise
my children,” Vivian said. “She’s such a bitch, it will ruin
them.”

“You’re not going to die. But even if you
did, they’d always have good memories of their fun mom.” Wendy
smiled sweetly. “I think the bad weather is almost over, Viv. Their
evil stepmother won’t have to raise them.”

“Rick never stands up to her. He asks her
permission to keep the kids if we ever have to switch our
schedules, for god’s sake. What’s with that crap?”

“Maybe he’s just being courteous, checking
their schedule?”

“No, he’s asking permission. She can’t be
inconvenienced.”

“So did the kids get that backyard that Rick
said was his reason for getting married?”

Vivian laughed. “You should see the money pit
they bought. The house barely looks livable and the backyard is a
joke. It’s so overgrown, the weeds are taller than the kids.”

“So much for that.” Wendy shrugged.

The plane gave another shudder and Vivian
winced, but soon the sun peeked through the cracks of the window
shade.

“See, it’s about over,” Wendy said and lifted
the shade. “We always have a little turbulence on our vacations.
Let’s hope that was the end of it.” The smile in her brown eyes
faded, but then she smiled at Vivian and went back to reading her
magazine.

Vivian and Wendy, friends since elementary
school, were on their way to Albany, N.Y., to meet two other
childhood friends, Lucy McGuire and Kate Jameson, for their fourth
girls’ trip. From there, the girls were driving north to Lake
Placid to spend a week hiking, enjoying the fall foliage and
all-around relaxing. Kate preferred mountains over city after their
last trip to New Orleans, no one was ready for the beach, and since
Lucy lived in the Rockies, she wanted different mountains. The
group had decided on the Adirondacks.

The four had grown up in funky-smelling
Pasa-Get-Down-dena, Texas, a blue-collar suburb of Houston full of
refinery workers who loved their line-dancing and Lone Star Beer.
Two of the most notorious icehouses were right across from one
another on Shaver Street, the “He’s Not Here” and the “She’s Not
Here.” The girls tried to go into “He’s Not Here” once their senior
year in high school but didn’t make it through the door, so instead
they went to Cherry’s Liquor Store and ordered wine coolers from
the drive-thru. No ID required.

The plane landed, and Vivian and Wendy were
among the last off. Big hugs from Lucy and Kate awaited them at
baggage claim. The girls chit-chatted and Vivian showed pictures of
the kids while waiting for their bags to slide down the chute.

Kate turned to Wendy, concern in her brown
eyes. “How are you? How are things going with Jake’s
investigation?”