Vacation Therapy (11 page)

"You can't do that. You're on vacation. You've paid too much money to come here and not have any fun."

I knew doubt was written all over my face.

"What did you work all year for, if not to relax and have fun?"

If he was the one trying to scare me off this resort, this didn't sound like what he should be saying. Especially if he plotted to drop a snake on me in the middle of the jungle cruise. I smiled. “I'll try, but I'm not promising anything."

We walked up the stairway to the resort. I paused at the stairwell leading to my room.

"Do you have plans for dinner?” Tom asked.

"No,” I said, putting my foot up one step.

"Good. Then meet me for supper,” Tom said. “Feel free to invite your friends."

"I don't think..."

"I don't want you to eat alone, and I doubt you do either. Especially after this afternoon, right?"

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Sure, why not?” What could possibly go wrong at supper?

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"And you'll never guess who Taylor's been hanging around with...” Sergio laughed into my cell phone. He sprawled across my bed, his sandals still on his feet.

"Who are you talking to?” I demanded.

Sergio looked directly into my eyes and said into the phone. “The hottest male porn star in the world.” He nodded and burst into laughter. “You got it, babe.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece with his other hand. “Even Molly knows who Tom is."

"Why does Molly know who Tom is? Is that Molly?” I took a step forward. I wanted to ask her if she knew what kind of place this was.

"Maybe,” he said, bringing the phone back to his ear. “What was that, dear?"

"Stop messing with me.” Turning my back to him, I tossed the camera bag on the dresser. It hit the folding reacher, sending both across the dresser. They bounced off the lamp and slid to a stop. I spun around. “Give me that phone. I want to talk to her.” I held my hand out for the phone.

"I'm not done yet,” he said, pressing the phone against his skinny chest.

"Oh, yes, you are."

The phone flew up to his ear. “Sorry, Moll, I gotta go. Bye.” Sergio sat up on the edge of my bed, extending his arm to the bedside table in an attempt to hang it up.

I dove across the bed and grabbed for Sergio's shoulders. “Give me that phone,” I said, pulling him back onto the bed.

Sergio tried to roll himself into a ball, but was only able to hunch over onto his lap.

I pulled him back, and his legs curled up to his chest. As he rolled over onto his side, he pulled the phone away from me. “No, no, you can't talk to her. She's mine, all mine."

He tried to roll over onto his stomach to further protect the phone, but my body prevented it. Pinning one arm behind him with a wrestler's hold, I struggled to retrieve the phone. “I need to talk to her. Give me that phone."

My hand tried to dig underneath his arm, but Sergio held it glued to his side. My fingers slid down along his arm, and I started to tickle his side.

"Molly!” Sergio yelled. “He's attacking me. Help!” He squirmed harder under my assault, twisting his torso from side to side, trying to avoid my fingers. He tried not to laugh and still hang on to the phone for dear life, but he was lost.

A hard knocking came from the door. “Is everything all right in there?” a man's voice asked.

The distraction caused Sergio to let his guard down. His body relaxed just enough for me to reach in and snatch the phone. I rolled off him and sat down hard on the floor.

"Give it back.” Sergio untangled himself from the bedspread.

"I'm calling security,” the voice warned.

"Molly? Is that you?” I asked, breathlessly into the phone.

"Who do you think it is?” Molly demanded. “You're not beating up Sergio, are you?"

"No, I just needed to talk to you, and he wouldn't give me the phone."

"I need to talk to you, too. I can see why the K-9 Kennel Klub wouldn't take Regan back."

"Why? What did she do now? She didn't flood my house like she did the kennel, did she?"

"No. Your house is fine. Stevie and I ran to the Dairy Queen to get supper and..."

"You didn't take her with, did you?"

"No."

"Mistake number one."

"So I learned. I just wanted to make it a fast trip,” Molly whined.

"Did you at least get her a hamburger?"

"No."

"Mistake number two.” I shook my head.

"Taking care of
your
dog was mistake number one."

"You volunteered..."

"Yeah, well, after what she did, she doesn't deserve a hamburger. Do you have any idea what she did?” Molly's voice rose on the phone.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"She jumped up
on your bed
and peed all the way around it."

"Around my bed?” I asked.

"No, sweetheart.
On your bed
. All around
your
brand new down comforter."

"What?"

"Don't worry. I washed it,” Molly said. “You don't think that I'd let that thing sit around until you got home, do you?"

"No, but you could've taken it to the dry cleaners."

"Why would I do that? It was already wet. Dry cleaning wouldn't have...” Molly's voice died off. “Ah, I see. Well, you can do that when you get home. I'm sure that will help fluff it up a bit. It looks kinda...” static sparked across the line, “...flat."

I swallowed hard. I could just see it. “Thanks for taking care of that for me.” I forced happy into my voice. My brand new comforter. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"No prob. What are friends for? Oh yeah, she also..."

I interrupted. “Don't tell me. I'll find out when I get home.”
If
I got home.

"Oh. Okay, by the way, did you get me anything yet? Not that I'm expecting anything, but..."

Sergio rolled across my bed, laughing to himself.

"I have an idea.” I glared at Sergio. “Would you like a shrunken head?"

"Would it be anyone I know?"

"Oh, it might be."

Sergio stopped laughing.

"So are you boys having fun? Sergio said that you've stumbled across a dead body, twice, hooked up with the hottest porn star and a best-selling mystery author, and you have several of the staff members writing marriage proposals to you on beach towels. Not bad for your first day at the resort."

"Did you know that this place was...?"

"Gay? No. I thought it was odd when I didn't see any women in the brochure, but I figured, it was one of those Iron John, he-man places, you know where you get to do all that macho shit."

"Oh, yeah, this is really macho. I'm sure the Village People are here somewhere pumping iron."

"Cool, can you get me their autograph? Well, at least the cowboy. He was the cutest one, but so was the construction worker."

"Yeah, he was my favorite too.” Anger burned my words.

"So, who's the author? Sergio wouldn't say. Anyone I'd know?"

"I don't think you've read anything by...Logan Zachary? Have you?” I smiled at that one.

"Logan Zachary! That's not fair. I'd give anything to meet Logan.” The phone line crackled again. “Take lots of pictures, especially on the nude beach. Woo baby. You could get one heck of a Christmas card out of those pictures.” More crackles echoed on the line. “Check out these candy canes for Christmas!” Molly hooted, “Who needs Santy Claus, when you can get Sandy Buns.” More laughter was interspersed with static.

"I'm glad you're having this much fun at my expense."

"Just think of all the stories you can tell them back at work.” Molly laughed.

There wasn't anything I could tell anyone about this trip.

"Before I forget. Did you hear about the hurr—” more static broke out across the line, drowning out Molly's voice.

"What?” I said into the phone.

A click shot into my ear, and then the hum of an open line resonated. Molly was gone. Turning back to Sergio. “We were cut off."

"I didn't see you or Tom all afternoon. Where have you two been?"

I said nothing.

"What were you two doing?” Sergio leaned forward.

"You don't want to know.” I stood and hung up the phone. Maybe she'd try and call back.

Sergio noticed my wild hair, ripped and dirty shirt, along with the scratches on my face and arms. “You look a little...disheveled. Did you get lucky? Tell me, tell me.” He licked his lips and waited.

"I need a shower, first,” I said, quickly gathering a change of clothes. “I'll tell you at supper. We've been invited to eat with Tom.” Then I escaped to the bathroom and locked the door before Sergio could ask any further questions.

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Supper was served poolside. More tables had been moved down from the main dining hall and filled the afternoon's sunbathing deck. Long buffet tables surrounded the dining area with “Mediterranean Night” signs, even though Caribbean music played gently from tinny sounding speakers scattered around the pool. A small stage walled the far side of the pool.

I hadn't noticed the stage this afternoon, with all the “other” things running through my mind. “Maybe we're going to have some entertainment at dinner tonight,” I said to the back of Sergio's head, as he continued to pull me through the maze of tables. His grip never relaxed on my shirt. Was he afraid I'd bolt?

Then the thought struck me, and I prayed, please God, don't let it be a murder mystery dinner. Not tonight. That's all I needed, another body dropping dead at my feet.

Sergio scanned the crowd as he continued to pull me to the tables in the back corner, farthest from the stage. He smiled and waved at a few guys in the crowd, but paid extra attention to one in particular. “Doesn't he have the most fabulous hair?” he asked.

"He must've given you a big tip,” I teased.

"Better than that,” Sergio smiled.

"What's better...?” I realized what Sergio meant and said, “I don't want to know.” My eyes tried to scan the tables as Sergio's breakneck speed increased.

Tom sat alone in the corner near the first buffet table, watching the bright orange liquid swirl around in his glass. As he looked up, he smiled and waved us over. His body seemed to relax. He took a long sip from his drink and settled back in his chair.

"Mind if we join you?” Sergio asked, pulling out the chair next to Tom before he could answer.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, I thought Taylor invited you..."

"Oh, he did, or he was going to, but he just needed to take a shower after he got back to our room.” Sergio winked at him, “Must have gotten pretty
hot
in the sun this afternoon."

Before Tom could respond, Logan walked up to our table and asked, “Do you mind if I join you guys?"

"No, not at all.” I pulled out my chair and sat down. Sergio and Tom motioned for Logan to take the empty seat.

Logan pulled out his chair as Sergio scooted closer to Tom's. “Taylor, where's your camera?” Sergio put his arm around Tom's shoulder and pulled him closer.

Tom gave me a questioning smile.

"I left it in the room. I didn't think..."

Tom interrupted, “You'll have to wait until the end of the week to take pictures. That's when our tans will be the darkest."

"If we last that long,” I mumbled, under my breath.

"What was that?” Sergio asked.

"I really like this song,” I said as the trumpets started to blast, announcing another event was about to begin. “Can't we just eat supper in peace. This is like summer camp where they have things planned for us every second of the day. I just want to relax."

"So, therapist, aren't you healing yourself?” Sergio said, snidely. He glanced from me over to Tom. “Didn't you do any
therapy
this afternoon?” His eyes went wide.

"That's right,” Logan began. “You're a therapist. My fingers tingle after I've been writing for a while..."

"How much did you write today?” I asked.

"Only twelve pages."

"Did you warm up first? Stretch between pages? And are you using proper body mechanics?"

"In this climate I figured the temperature was warm enough, I wouldn't have to...” Logan balled his fingers into a fist and straightened them out, wiggling them as if he was typing on a keyboard.

"Just because it's warm down here, doesn't mean your body won't hurt if you overdo or work in a bad position."

"Enough shop talk,” Sergio interrupted. “Let's discuss something more interesting.” He turned to Tom. “So. What did
you
do all afternoon?"

Tom turned to Sergio. “We can talk about that later, I'd like to hear more about what Logan's working on. I must've missed it this morning when I was napping."

Sergio scrunched up his face, but said nothing.

"I'm working on a new mystery,” Logan began. “Have you heard of the Axel Bolton and Bruce Abel mysteries? They're my detectives."

"I hate stereotypes. Are they gay?” Sergio asked, quickly. “Are you?"

Subtle Sergio, real subtle, I mused.

"Oh, no,” Logan's face flushed a bright red, “we're not, I mean, I'm not.” He took a breath. “Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, but..."

"What about your characters? Aren't they gay? I love Grant Michaels. He writes about a hairdresser, who just happens to be gay,” Sergio pressed.

"I've read him. He has a fun series, a bit stereotypical of the profession.” Logan looked at Sergio. “Don't you think?"

"Well, if the shoe fits...” Sergio said.

"I guess, but in my new book, I'm sending my character Bruce on vacation."

"And he's the gay one, right?” Sergio burst out into laughter. “Well, that's a stupid question. Aren't all Bruces gay?"

We all stared at him. Talk about stereotyping, Sergio.

Becoming defensive, Sergio huffed. “Well, they are, aren't they?"

Tom and Logan broke out into laughter at Sergio's perceived joke. I smiled to myself and shook my head. I bet Sergio really believed it.

Logan continued, “Bruce is very straight. He's going on vacation, away from his partner, Axel.” Logan looked at Sergio, “They're partners in a detective agency, but that's it. Anyway, I'm calling this book,
Kill Me! Kill Me! Kill Me! (A Man After Midnight)
. Bruce's vacation plans get mixed up somehow, and he finds himself at a gay resort in Mexico. As luck would have it, he finds a body in his bed, and then it disappears. Later on, he'll stumble across it again."