Vacation Therapy (4 page)

"Like you did to your new buddy?” he smirked.

"You're the one that disappeared at supper, not me. Maybe you...” I squinted at him. Seeing this had no effect on him, I continued, “So, are you going to help me or not?"

"All right. I'll help you,” he whined.

I didn't respond.

"It's not like I have anything better to do,” he said. “I'm only on vacation."

"Where's Molly when you really need her?"

"Isn't she the one who got you into this in the first place?"

"You're not helping,” I warned from between tight lips.

"Just tell me what you want me to do, Nancy Drew.” Sergio clapped his hands and rubbed them together with forced excitement.

I ignored his comment. “I figure, whoever moved the body didn't have a lot of time to hide it, so..."

"So it's probably still around here. Close by.” Sergio pointed to the door. “Like in the laundry room."

"Exactly."

Sergio rubbed his nails on his chest and looked down at them. “My mama didn't raise no idiots,” he said with a cowboy twang.

"Mine did,” I said flatly.

"What?"

"Never mind.” I reached forward and tried the knob. Locked.

"Here, let me do that.” Sergio bumped me out of the way with his hip. He rattled the knob, pulled out his room key and inserted it halfway, jiggled it, pushed it in a little further, jiggled some more, and pushed.

Click. The door swung open in his hand.

He smiled proudly and held his hands in a “Price is Right” motion, both hands framing the open door. But as suddenly as his smile had appeared, he grimaced. “We don't really have to look in there, do we?"

The door swung completely open and hit the wall. Darkness greeted us.

I reached into the room, searching for the light switch. My fingers brushed against a warm, wet, sticky dampness inside the door. “Yuck.” I pulled my hand back, reflexively, as a wet mop flopped out and landed at our feet.

"Let me.” Sergio pulled out a lighter and flicked it. The flame revealed a pull cord. He pulled the string and a twenty-watt bulb barely illuminated the closet. Rows of neatly folded sheets, towels, and pillowcases lined the room. But no body.

"Damn it!"

"What? Were you actually hoping we'd find that body?” Sergio placed his hands on his hips and gave me attitude with head movements.

"Yes. Well, no. I don't know. I guess I just wanted to make sure they believed us."

"Believe us? If we found that body, I think it would cause us more problems. Don't you?” Sergio bent and picked up the mop. “Feel this,” he said, and touched the mop's head. The strands were warm. A faint, metallic smell tainted the air. The strands appeared dirty, but the light wasn't bright enough to see what color they were.

"Do you see any blood?” Sergio asked.

"I'm night blind. I detached my retina, and with this poor light, I can't see much. But even without my night vision, I'm sure there's some blood here. I can smell it. Can't you? That copper penny smell. It's been diluted by the water, but it's there."

"Maybe we should take a sample,” Sergio suggested.

"Where would we get it analyzed?” I saw his disappointed expression. “Besides, they don't believe us anyway. Why would they test a wet mop? We still don't have a body. They could say the blood came from anywhere, from anyone for that matter."

Sergio propped the mop back in the closet and closed the door. “Let's check the rest of the floor, and see if we can find anything else."

We canvassed the entire fourth floor, searching every nook and cranny for any wet drag marks or a dead body, but our search revealed nothing.

We stopped outside of our room. Sergio glanced at his watch. “It's almost 11:00. Disco time. I gotta go. I'll catch you later.” He slapped me on the shoulder and headed down the stairs to the lobby.

"Wait,” I called after him, not wanting him to leave me alone.

He paused on the steps. “Are you going to come with me?"

"No. I don't need any more commotion tonight. I think I'm going to take a nice long walk on the beach. Look at the moon and the stars, and try to unwind. Then I'll probably head back to the room and read. Today hasn't been all that relaxing for the first day of my vacation."

Sergio shrugged. “Suit yourself. Ciao."

How could he go dancing after finding a dead body in our shower? How was I going to shower in that tub? I shuddered. I pulled the room key out of my pocket and paused. Did I really want to go back in there? Alone?

You never know what you're going to find in that room, my mind warned.

A gentle cool breeze blew salty air over my sweaty body. “The beach is calling,” I said to the night. “And it looks like it's going to be a peaceful evening after all."

As if on cue, a low thundering bass beat reverberated throughout the night air.

So much for sleep tonight.

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"It's Raining Men” throbbed and echoed throughout the tiled courtyard. Ripples in the huge figure-eight swimming pool pulsated in time with the music. I walked past rows of chaise lounges, but the ocean's surf drew me to the beach. The force of the music pushed me faster to get away from the disco and find some peace and quiet.

Flashes of lights danced across the water's surface and I wondered—why would an oceanside resort need such a big pool? Why would they need a pool, period? This concept was beyond me, but then this whole trip was beyond me. I hoped the walk would help clear my head.

The heavy smell of chlorine hung around the pool, but a trace of fresh air filtered through, dissipated with the night's breeze. I followed the salty scent around the cabana and a wave of marine brine greeted me. I inhaled deeply; this was more like it.

I scanned along the guardrail, which surrounded the pool's deck, and spotted an opening. Rounding the building's corner, I saw the thunderous waves crash against the beach, drowning out the disco's thumping beat. Three wooden steps led down to the sand.

As soon as my feet hit the sand, I knew I'd be waking up early to stake my claim on the beach. Palm fronds rustled with the wind as the salty tang tingled my sinuses. I breathed freely for the first time in months and prayed that my allergies wouldn't act up in paradise. Another deep breath entered and exited my lungs, and despite the day's events, my muscles started to relax. The tension headache was gone, and I doubted it was the Excedrin. It was the magic of water.

Moving to South Dakota had changed my life. It kept me a safe distance from my dysfunctional family, but growing up near Lake Superior had definitely shaped me. The effects of being so close to such a large body of water seemed to calm and center my spirit. It always had. Maybe that's what caused my restlessness in Sioux Falls.

Or was it Molly?

That was a toss-up.

The day's heat still radiated off the white sand, which reflected the full moon's glow. The trade winds blew across the water and picked up moisture along the way. The spray felt good against my face, but as I closed my eyes, images of the shower and a bleeding body threatened to re-emerge in my mind. I opened my eyes and tried to push those thoughts aside.

Two tall, lean men in their thirties held hands as they strolled along the beach, greeting me as they walked past. Hurrying up the steps, the couple headed in the direction of the music. Why did I feel like I was going in the wrong direction? Nothing new there.

More chaise lounges and umbrellas made from palm fronds ran along the shore, and the wind rustled the dry leaves. White waves crashed on the beach as the foam hissed and dissolved into the sand. Kicking off my tennis shoes, I stepped into the surf, and my bare feet splashed in the cool water.

A volleyball net whistled in the wind, and off to the right stood several vacant tennis courts. In the distance, a row of wind boards waited for the next day's events. The moonlight muted their bright colors, and with my limited night vision they looked black and indigo.

The disco's music tingled faintly in the distance above the surf. I continued on my walk, passing the wind boards, and wondered how anyone could stand on them in the rolling water.

The waves continued to intensify and forced me to move farther from the waterline. A row of palm trees sprouted up from a mound of sand to my right. Each tree appeared like a waiting skeleton, glowing white in the dark from the lime painted up their trunks to prevent insects from invading their foliage. As I neared the tree line, it was amazing to see how high they had to paint the lime. It looked like eight feet or the tree wouldn't survive the insects’ invasion. What kinds of bugs were that persistent?

I glanced back at the resort. A warm glow flickered in the horizon's blackness, outlining the hotel, and the full moon added a cold, bluish illumination. That's when I realized how far I had walked on the beach.

As I turned to head back, the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I felt as if someone were watching me. Turning, I scanned the darkness, but no one was visible. I felt eyes following me as I walked along the surf. The tide had calmed into a soft lap on the sand. I hadn't noticed when the thunderous pounding or hissing foam disappeared.

I couldn't ignore the feeling of being watched. Unsettled, I started my return trip. After two steps, the moon slipped behind a cloud and plunged the beach into blackness. What night vision I had was gone. I blinked hard, trying to force my eyes to adjust and pierce the blackness. Only a warm glow burned from the resort's lights at the far end of the beach.

I took a tentative step, feeling the way with my feet.

A soft rustling in a pile of palm fronds made me stop. Despite the darkness, it looked like a palm frond had lifted up off the ground a few inches, and then slowly sank back down. The pile of leaves wasn't large enough to hide a person; at least I didn't think so. Maybe something wild was nesting in them.

In the earlier conversation at supper, the men had mentioned a pamphlet telling about the wildlife at the resort, but I hadn't read it yet. Images of lizards and alligators, along with many Hollywood monsters, flooded my mind.

I sidestepped closer to the water, but my eyes never left the heap. My hands clenched my shoes like a weapon, ready to use them in case anything sprang from it.

More rustling shook the pile.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. I took a deep breath and saw something dart out from underneath the fronds. I didn't wait to find out what it was. I leapt forward and ran. I bolted down the beach, the moon remaining behind the only cloud in the night sky. I hadn't noticed when my shadow disappeared, and I wasn't going to stop and worry about that. I veered closer to the water's edge. My feet splashed in the surf as I picked up speed on the sand where it was firmer.

Blindly, I pressed forward. Panic urged me to run faster, but somewhere in my mind, I wondered how stupid I looked.

I passed the wind boards. The volleyball net whistled a warning, and I swerved to avoid it.

And then, thump.

My body hit the damp beach.

I landed hard on my chest and forearms. My shoes flew from my hands, and the force drove the breath out of my lungs. Sand sprayed into my face, and my chest burned when I tried to inhale. Did I break a rib? Puncture a lung? A gasp slowly allowed oxygen to re-enter my body. I lay there for a while as my respiration returned.

When I tried to get up, I realized that my feet were tangled up with whatever I had tripped over. What had washed ashore with the tide?

"Ta-y-lor? Are you out there?” Sergio called in a singsong voice.

Great. As if I didn't feel foolish enough already, he was the last person I needed. And now he was going to see how easily I had scared myself. Hurrying, I pushed up onto my knees. Reaching down to my feet, my fingers found something wet.

"Taylor!” Sergio called again.

"Over here.” I called as my fingers explored, trying to identify what had tripped me.

Then I felt wet leather. My hand moved down and brushed denim, then veered over to touch hairy skin.

A body.

A wet, hairy body.

A cold, dead, wet, hairy body, clad in leather and denim.

I knew this body, and I pulled my hand away in horror.

As if summoned from the night, Sergio stepped off the path and headed directly toward me. “Taylor? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Sergio neared, just as the moon escaped from behind the cloud. “What are you do...? Oh no. Not again.” Sergio started to back up.

"Sergio."

But he wasn't listening. He was running.

He ran as fast as he could back to the resort, yelling all the way.

"Sergio!” I shouted after him. “Get back here!"

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Sergio's flight through the resort had alerted Mike and Geoff. All three of them stared down at the hairy corpse lying at my feet. At least this time, we had a body to show them.

Mike still clung to Sergio's arm. The same one he had used to drag him back to the beach, despite all of his protests. “I really have to get going. I'm late. I didn't even find the body. I just... Well, never mind what I just did...” Sergio said.

"Explain this to me one more time,” Mike said, trying to pry the details out of his reluctant captive. “Calmly, this time.” His hand tugged on Sergio, forcing him to make eye contact as they moved closer to me. Despite all of the protests and fidgeting, Mike didn't let go.

In the dark, I stood with my back to the body and had a few minutes to slip on my shoes and compose myself as I waited for them to approach Bigfoot and me. What was I going to say? How could I explain this one?

Geoff's maglight flashed to life and scanned the beach, finally coming to illuminate the body. “So, you boys done found the body.” Reaching into his hip holster, he pulled out the walkie-talkie's mouthpiece. He depressed the side button and spoke. “We got a floater."

Static replied.

With Mike's attention drawn to Geoff, Sergio finally broke free from his grasp. He turned his back to me and avoided looking at the body.