Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9) (4 page)

“For the duration of your stay, we
want you to give up your harmful antiperspirant and use this instead.”

Lacy almost asked if she could also
use it on popcorn, but decided against it.

“In your room you will find
organic, all natural hair products. Use those instead of what you normally
use,” Uma said.

“Done,” Lacy agreed.

“Now, about your makeup.”

“What about my makeup?” Lacy asked,
a bit defensively.

“Are you aware that your mascara
likely contains bat guano?”

“Wouldn’t that be considered an
organic ingredient?” Lacy asked.

“It’s bat poop,” Uma said, losing
her cool for the first time.

“What do you want me to do?” Lacy
asked.

“We want you to see the beauty in
your natural complexion.”

“You’ve obviously never seen me
first thing in the morning,” Lacy said.

“We would prefer that you use a
natural, mineral-based powder, like this.” She just so happened to have some
makeup handy, and it just so happened to have the resort’s logo on it. Normally
Lacy wouldn’t have fallen for the ploy, but since Tosh was paying…

“I’ll take it,” Lacy said. A little
bit of powder wouldn’t begin to put a dent in his trust fund.

“Excellent. Now Sven would like to
see you again.”

Surely he wasn’t going to make Lacy
lift weights again. There was already a distinct chance she wouldn’t be able to
walk tomorrow.

“Thwim, Joan,” Sven commanded as he
handed her a bathing suit and led her to the pool.

“Swimming is my thing, Sven,” Lacy
said. “This isn’t going to feel like work.”

“We’ll thee,” he said.

Lacy ducked into the locker room to
change. When she emerged, Jill and Snaps were standing by the pool. “Jill and I
thought thinth you and Tim are buddieth we would have you thwim together,” Sven
said.

“Sweet,” Snaps said. “A little
friendly competition, like the old days.”

“No one said anything about
competition,” Lacy said.

“Are you scared?” Jill asked. She
feigned rubbing tears from her eyes.

“Of you? Yes. Of swimming? No,”
Lacy said.

“Come on, Lacy, for old time’s
sake,” Snaps said.

“Sure,” Lacy agreed.

Sven walked her to the edge of the
pool. “Why doeth Tim keep calling you Lathy?”

“Nickname, but I hate it. Please
don’t use it,” Lacy said.

“Thure thing,” Sven said. He helped
her into the pool. “You got thith, Joan.”

“You’d better win this, you fat
maggot, or I’m going to rip off your head and puke down your neck,” Jill said
to Snaps.

Lacy and Snaps lined up at the end
of the pool. “Ready, thet, go!” Sven called, and they were off.

“DO IT, YOU MONKEY-FACED LITTLE
TROLL!” Jill screamed over and over.

“Thwim, Joan, thwim!” Sven called
encouragingly.

For Lacy, swimming was never a
problem. Like a seal, it was what she was built for. Even after the grueling
workout from earlier, she didn’t feel tired as she swam lap after lap. Snaps
was growing weary, she could tell. A part of her wanted to let him win so he
wouldn’t get in trouble with his trainer. But the competitive, oldest-child
part of her took over and she beat him soundly.

“Good swim,” Snaps said, high
fiving her.

“I hope you’ll never have children
so they’ll never learn what a failed disappointment to humanity you are,” Jill
said to Snaps, adding. “See you first thing in the morning for more.”

“I’m tho proud of you, Joan. Drink
up,” Sven said. Another green potion appeared magically in front of her.

“How are you doing this?” Lacy
asked. She took the cup and drained it.

“A trainer never revealth hith
thecreth,” Sven said. “Have a good evening. No cheating.”

Lacy gave him a little salute. He
left and she was alone with Snaps.

“I’m so sorry,” Lacy said.

“About what?” Snaps asked.

“Your trainer. She’s insane.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but it doesn’t
bother me. I’ve found over the years that having a woman scream at me is excellent
motivation. Freud would have a field day with me. What about you?”

“I don’t like having a woman scream
at me,” Lacy said.

“No, I mean how are you? How’s life
treating you?”

“Really well. It’s true what they
say that it does get better after high school.”

“You look…wow. The ugly duckling
definitely turned into a swan.”

“Thank you, I think,” she said.

“That was a compliment, mixed with
a bit of envy. I’m still the same little doughboy I was then. The only
difference is that my spine is straighter and I don’t clap when I walk. My
changes are more internal, and they’ve brought me peace.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Snaps.”

“Plus I’m loaded now, so there’s
that,” he said.

She laughed. “Good for you. Let me
guess—you won the lottery.”

“I was born with two left feet, a
spine shaped like an ‘S,’ and a penchant for show tunes. Do I seem like the
type of guy who would win the lottery? No, I develop software. I’m into apps.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“Liar. I do it for a living, and
even I think it’s boring. But I make piles of money, so I can’t complain.” He
glanced at the clock. “What are you doing for supper? Can we continue this
conversation? I’ll even let you bring your boyfriend.”

“That sounds great, Snaps, but I
promised that boyfriend a night of having Lacy all to himself. Rain check?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Tomorrow,
maybe, if Jill doesn’t kill me.”

“With her sterling temperament, I’d
be surprised if someone doesn’t kill her first,” Lacy said.

They grabbed robes and walked out
of the pool area, laughing together.

“You look amazing,” Jason said. He
stood on the other side of her door wearing khakis and a shirt the color of
charcoal gray she found irresistible on him.

“You look fairly spectacular
yourself,” she said. She stood on her toes and kissed him. He smelled as
delicious as he looked, like peppermint, aftershave, and self-confidence. She
could only hope she didn’t stink like rotting fish after her day of
seaweed-induced detox.

“I look the same as I look every
day for work. You, though, are eye-popping.”

For once, Lacy agreed with him. She
was wearing a dress Riley had bought for her from the resort’s boutique. It was
green to match her eyes, a rare thoughtful present from her little sister.
If I can’t wear expensive, pretty things,
someone should,
Riley had said. And despite using a slab of salt as
deodorant and wearing minimal makeup, Lacy felt like she was glowing, inside
and out. Maybe there was something to all this clean, healthy eating. Maybe she
would keep it up after she left the spa.

“Thank you,” Lacy said. They walked
hand in hand to the resort’s highly rated restaurant. Jason held her chair for
her. As she sat, her stomach gurgled ominously. She blamed it on low blood
sugar and picked up a menu.

“Are you eating people food
tonight?” Jason asked.

“Sven has me on vegetable broth,
but honestly I’m not even that hungry. I think all the juice I’ve been downing
must have a lot of fiber. I feel strangely full.” Her stomach gave another glug
and turned over. She fanned herself with the menu.

Jason looked up from the steak
section of his menu. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I maybe overdid it
with the ketllebells today. My legs feel a little wobbly.” Her legs weren’t the
only thing wobbling. Now her intestines were quivering. Sweat broke out on her
upper lip as her insides began to twine into a knot, then come undone, then
repeat the process.

What
was in those green drinks? And how many had she guzzled?

Her lower intestines roiled again.
It was as if a thunderstorm had just erupted in her abdomen; lightning and
thunder were brawling for supremacy. Suddenly Lacy was reminded of the time she
got stuck on her cousin’s waterbed while Riley jumped and jumped, making Lacy
bounce and jostle from side to side until she was seasick. Her stomach was
pitching and rolling exactly as it had then, only worse because now she had a
gallon of green juice fighting to get out. She needed to find a bathroom, the
sooner the better.

“Will you excuse me for a minute,
please?” Bolting to her feet was a bad idea. All at once she understood every
commercial for adult diapers she had ever watched. At this moment she would
have given her left arm for the comfort and security of a Depends.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

There was no way Lacy could tell
him. As far as he was concerned, she had no bodily
functions—ever—and that was exactly how she wanted to keep it. “I
left something in the room. Be right back.” She wanted to sprint away, but she
was afraid of what might happen if she let go of the stringent control she
maintained on the lower half of her body. Instead she waddled, keeping
everything as tight as she could to avoid an accident.

By the time she arrived at her room,
there was no time to spare. She let herself in and flew to the bathroom, but
the door was locked. She pounded and yelled as she jiggled the knob.

“Let me in, let me in, let me in.
For the love of all that is good, please, you have to let me in!”

“Lacy, is that you?”

“Mom, you have to let me in,” Lacy
yelled, beating incessantly with her palms. She pressed her face to the cool
wood of the door, yearning to be on the other side.

“Honey, I’m in the bath and I just
got started. I’m going to be in here awhile. I got mud in some places and,
well, I’d rather not discuss it.”

Lacy didn’t stick around to argue.
Instead she whirled and headed back toward the lobby and the public restroom,
waddling as quickly as the awkward position would allow. Maybe Charlie Chaplin
wasn’t trying to be funny when he walked like a penguin. Maybe he struggled
with debilitating diarrhea.

She became aware that she was
making a noise, something between a moan and a whimper so that it came out
sounding like, “Hurnk.” Every time her left foot touched the ground, the sound
came out.

“
Hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk, hurnk,”
until
at last she reached the bathroom. Throwing open the door with a BANG, she
hurried inside. A part of her brain noted with relief that it was empty. The
other, more primal part of her was beyond caring. She locked herself in the
stall as wave upon wave of agonizing cramps hit her. The pain was so intense
her eyes burned with unshed tears. She pressed her palms to her sockets and
prayed for deliverance.

At last it seemed to be over. She
could only imagine what Jason must think or how she could try to explain this
to him. One thing was for certain: he would never know what transpired in this
bathroom. She would take it to the grave.

She stood shakily to her feet.
Another cramp hit her. It was so unexpected and so intense that she doubled
over, striking her head on the metal toilet paper container. Everything went
black, and she fell down, down, down.

“Ma’am.”

Lacy’s eyes popped open. Her cheek
rested on cool bathroom tile. Her bare rump was hoisted high in the air. Her
underpants were around her ankles, which were tangled behind her like a bound
rodeo calf.

“Ma’am.” A man was crouched on the
other side of the door staring into her eyes. Lacy said the first thing that
popped into her brain.

“Homing pigeons.”

He blinked. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. Meanwhile a
cool, soothing breeze fanned her exposed hindquarters.

“Are you aware that you’re in the
men’s room?” he asked.

“I guess that would explain the
urinals,” she said. Now that she thought about it, she remembered seeing them
when she ran in, but it had been too much of an emergency to process anything.
“Could you maybe go away? I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

My
dignity.
“Some privacy would be very much appreciated.”

“I’ll stand outside the door and
make sure no one comes in until you’re ready to come out,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied.

He left. Lacy made sure he was good
and gone before she stood and hiked up her underwear. She opened the stall and
took stock of herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was
pale and sweaty with limp, tangled hair and tear-streaked eyes. One whiff of
her armpits and she knew the salt had given up the ghost long ago. She stumbled
to the sink, washed her hands, face, and armpits, then leaned on the counter
and took a steadying breath.

I’m
going to have to go outside and face whoever is on the other side of that door.
Then I’m going to have to find Jason and try to explain where I’ve been for the
past however long.

Her gaze slid longingly to the
window. What were the chances she could shimmy out, run away, and never come
back? Not great. Her one consolation was that Jason hadn’t been the one to find
her. If that had happened, she would be forced to break up with him and assume
a new identity somewhere, preferably where English was spoken and indoor
plumbing was plentiful. Iceland, maybe.

When she couldn’t avoid it any
longer, she left the bathroom. A spa employee stood outside. Lacy thanked him
without making eye contact. He nodded in reply. She was going to be the topic
of conversation among the employees for the remainder of the weekend, and quite
possibly for the remainder of the guy’s life. She could only imagine the
mileage he would get out of her humiliation.

 
One
time I found this woman passed out on the floor of the men’s room.

Was
she high?

No,
but her butt was…

She wandered slowly back to the
restaurant. Jason stood when he saw her.

“Baby, what happened to you? Did
you fall into the pool?”

She must be sweatier than she
realized. “I’m feeling a little unwell. I’m so sorry to cancel our date, but I
think I might need to lie down.”

“Of course. I’ll take you back to
your room.”

She let him assume that was what
she meant when in reality she had been prepared to stretch out on the ground in
front of him right then. He put his arm around her and headed in the direction
of her room. As soon as they were outside the restaurant, Lacy stopped.

“I don’t think I’m going to make
it.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”
Jason asked.

“No, I mean I think I’m going to
die. I love you. You’ve been a great boyfriend. You can have my collection of
Korean cat memorabilia. It should bring you enough money to live on through the
end of the week.” She leaned weakly against the wall, fighting the urge to
double over as another wave of stomach cramps began.

“Hop on, I’ll give you a piggy
back,” Jason said.

“I can’t hop. The best I can do is
slump,” she said as she hugged the wall and tried not to fall over.

“Here.” He hunkered in front of
her, took her hands, and dragged her onto his back. Weakly, she gripped his
waist with her legs. There was a good chance her dress was hiked up in the
back—she realized this as they passed the employee who had found her on
the bathroom floor.

“We’re almost there,” Jason said
soothingly. She didn’t bother to tell him that her groan was more from
mortification than agony that time.

They reached her room. Jason used
her key to let them in and deposited her on the bed. He perched on the edge and
pressed his palm to her forehead. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you.” She took his hand
between hers and kissed it. “Sorry I wrecked our fancy date.”

“There will be others,” he said.

Her mom emerged from the bathroom
then. “What’s going on?”

“Lacy’s sick,” Jason said. His tone
was worried.

Frannie came to the edge of the bed
and inspected her daughter. “Looks like the detox is working.” She sounded
pleased. “How was supper?”

Lacy groaned and pulled the blanket
over her face.

“We never actually got to eat,”
Jason said.

“I’m heading there now. Want to eat
with me?” Frannie asked.

“Maybe I should stay with Lacy,”
Jason said.

Lacy’s head popped from beneath the
covers. “No. I mean no. I mean I’ll probably sleep, and no one wants to watch
me sleep.” She pressed her palms to her stomach, trying desperately to stifle
its renewed gurgling. All she wanted was to be left alone with her misery
before the next bout of sickness hit.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay,” Jason said. He kissed her
forehead and stood.

Frannie leaned over and kissed the
same spot Jason had vacated. “Don’t order room service, sweetie. Let the detox
do its work.”

“It’s definitely doing something,” Lacy
said. She was sweating again. Everything was soaked but her lips; they were
parched.

Jason was still staring worriedly
at her. She gave him a crooked smile and a wobbly thumbs up. “Fine. Have fun.
Eat things. Talk much.”

“My wish for you is that you feel
well enough to regain the use of pronouns,” Jason said.

Frannie laughed. “Oh, you kids.
Come on, Jason. The chef at this restaurant used to work for Emeril.”

He didn’t want to go, but what
could he do? Lacy obviously didn’t want him there. Knowing her, it was because
she didn’t want him to see her get sick. She liked to pretend she had no
biological functions, as if they had magically ceased to exist when they
started dating. Jason humored her for now, but at some point she was going to
have to drop the velvet ropes and let him see behind the curtain.

“Have you ever seen her like this?”
Jason asked after he and Frannie left the room.

“Oh, sure. I’ve seen Lacy every way
it’s possible to see her. You always think it can’t get worse, and then somehow
it does. Don’t worry; she’ll be fine. She’s like those kids in India who live
in filth. It’s sad, but it also gives them unbelievable immunity. Lacy lives a
calamitous life, but she always bounces back, usually stronger and more
resilient than she was before.” As if to prove how worried she wasn’t, she
began to hum a mindless little tune.

It was bizarre. Jason knew Frannie
loved her daughter, but sometimes she didn’t act like it. And yet Lacy had
turned out all right, minus the occasional crippling insecurity. That he blamed
directly on Frannie, and it was hard to overcome. But if he wanted his
relationship with Lacy to advance, he needed to make peace with her mother.

They sat at the same table he and
Lacy had left a while ago. The feeling of déjà vu was uncomfortable. The fact
that Frannie looked like an older version of Lacy did nothing to help his
mental state. Frannie was a beautiful woman. She and Lacy had the same red hair
and green eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Lacy’s mouth was
almost always either smiling or about to smile. Frannie’s mouth was almost
always frowning or set in disapproval.

If Frannie’s constant criticisms
had caused Lacy to struggle with insecurity, what had caused Frannie’s caustic
demeanor? Jason wondered. Surely it wasn’t her own mother. Lucinda Craig was
one of the kindest, sweetest, warmest and most loving women he had ever met. He
had never met her husband, but no one had anything bad to say about him. By all
accounts he was equally warm and kind. Why had their daughter turned out the
way she had? Had she always been this way? Or had the weight of life pressed on
her until she was the person who sat across from him staring disapprovingly at
the menu.