Authors: Lance Zarimba
Vacation Therapy (15 page)
"What am I supposed to think? He sure knows how to push Club Fred. He's like a walking infomercial."
"I know.” Sergio slid over into the chair next to me. “So, do you think he knows anything?"
"I think lunch was a complete waste of time. The only thing I almost got out of him was a date.” I set my pop can down with a bang.
"Really?” Sergio's eyebrows went up. “Well, I got a lot out of Gary."
"Oh yeah. What?” I demanded.
Sergio held up a resort room key. “This."
"How did you get that?” I asked, amazed by the key dangling from Sergio's fingers.
"I get around,” Sergio smiled. “More than you think.” He took the last sip from his Diet Coke and shook his empty can. “Actually, I was the designated driver in Cosmo School. So, I had to learn how to pick pockets to get the keys from my inebriated friends. Friends don't let friends drive drunk."
"I'm glad you're such a humanitarian, but it seems that misdemeanors run in your bloodstream.” I pushed my chair back and stood up.
Sergio touched my arm. “Let's go check out his room."
"Now? You want to add breaking and entering to your list?"
"I have the key.” Sergio shook it in his hand as he rose. “It's hardly breaking. I'm sure Gary is more than willing to show you his room, so there goes our entry. We're almost invited."
"I'm not listening,” I put my fingers in my ears.
"You can search his room with me, or you can search his room with him.” Sergio smiled as he pulled my arms down and gazed into my eyes. “The choice is yours."
"I'm not going to hear the end of this until we check this out, right?"
"You got it.” He smiled.
"Should we tell Logan and Tom?” I motioned to the beach.
"In this case, I don't think the more is the merrier."
"All right. I'll go along with you, just this one time. But first, we need to find out how long Gary is going to be working at the table."
"Fine, we can sign up for tomorrow's snorkeling trip.” Sergio headed toward the Club Fred table.
Gary sat oiled and shirtless behind the table. His “Gary” nametag stuck to his chest.
"Let's go.” Sergio waved for me to follow.
Sergio walked over to Gary and picked up the clipboard. “Seal Island. No one will be throwing snakes on this excursion, will they?” Sergio smiled a toothy grin.
Gray's face flushed. “No. I don't think you have to worry about that on this trip.” He quickly changed the focus. “So, just the two of you?” He waved his fingers between us. “How about your friends?"
Why was he getting so testy about the trip, especially since he was the one who had suggested it? “I'm sure they'll want to go too.” I reached over, picked up the pen lying on the table, and handed it to Sergio.
Sergio looked at the pen and turned it tip up. “Look,” he said showing me the pen. The pen had a man with a disappearing swimsuit.
I tapped the sign-up sheet.
He quickly flipped the pen over and wrote our four names down, along with our room number.
I smiled at him. “Do you have a long shift this afternoon, or do you get to enjoy some more of the surf and sun?"
"Oh, I'm here until supper.” He stretched back in his chair, flexing his muscles. “No fun for me this afternoon."
Good, I thought. “Too bad. At least you'll get to work on your tan."
Sergio pulled on my shirtsleeve. “Stop flirting."
"Well, we're off to get some more sun.” Sergio pulled me back to the beach.
Gary called after us. “Don't forget about your haircuts, Sergio. I'm sure the first one is waiting there right now."
"Crap."
"Hey, Taylor,” Sergio called as he walked across the beach. “I'm done with my haircuts, and you told me to tell you when it was four o'clock. It's four."
"Thanks, Sergio.” I swung my legs over the side of the chaise. “I think I've had enough sun. I'm going to hit the shower."
"I'll join you,” Sergio said quickly.
I glared over at him as I threw my things into my tote. My eyes bore into his.
"After you're done.” Sergio picked up his beach towel and motioned me to hurry.
Tom called after us. “Want to meet up for supper tonight?"
"Sure,” I called over my shoulder. “Save us a place.” We scrambled across the beach and raced through the cabana.
"So, what's his room number?” I asked as we ran up the stairway.
Sergio read the plastic diamond. “420."
"That's just down the hall from us."
"I know,” Sergio's voice went up. “Isn't
that
convenient?"
"For who?” I asked.
Sergio opened our room door and tossed our towels and my bag on the bed. “Let's go."
There was no one in the hallway. We pressed our backs along the wall and made our way toward Gary's room.
Sergio pulled the key out of his pocket and causally inserted it into the lock.
Leaning forward, I whispered, “Do you think he has a roommate?"
Sergio froze. “Now is a fine time to think of that,” he muttered from between clenched teeth.
"Well, he could,” I answered, defensively.
"What should we do?” Sergio held the key in place.
"We've come this far, we might as well see it through to the end."
Sergio's eyebrows shot up. “Here goes nothing.” He pushed the door open and peered into the room. “Empty."
"Well, hurry up and get in.” I pushed him through the door and followed close behind.
Scanning the room, everything was neatly set out. Except for a wet towel hanging on the bathroom doorknob, nothing seemed suspicious or out of place.
Sergio walked over to the dresser and slid open the top drawer. He reached in and pulled out a skimpy pair of red bikini underwear and held them up for me to see.
I shuddered at the image it brought to my mind. I frowned at Sergio. “We're supposed to be looking for clues, not underwear."
"I am looking for clues.” He placed the underwear back in the drawer. “If I had anything to hide, this wouldn't be where I'd hide it at the resort.” He shook his head. “But I'd hide it in my underwear drawer at home. I'm not just getting my kicks out of this you know."
"Whatever.” I walked into the bathroom. A shaving kit was spread out on the marble countertop, a damp pair of swimming trunks hung from the curtain rod. I lifted the toilet tank lid with both hands and peered inside. Just water.
Walking back into the room, I scanned the area. Sergio was gone. “Sergio?” I whispered. “Sergio?” I repeated, louder.
"What?” a voice said from under the bed.
"I thought you had abandoned me,” I said.
Sergio's head popped up from the far side of the bed by the patio door. “Why would I do that?” He pushed himself up into a standing position and wiped his hands together. “There's nothing under that bed but dust bunnies."
"I still don't know what we're looking for."
Sergio pointed to the closet. “Look in there."
I opened the door and felt my eyebrows wrinkle. What was that smell? I sniffed the air, but the scent avoided my detection. It was faint and familiar, but I couldn't quiet place it. A heap of clothes was tossed in one corner. An image of a locker room only earthier formed in my mind. I kicked at the pile with the toe of my sandal; T-shirts, underwear, socks, and shorts. Digging a little deeper, I found a small black notebook poking out of a pair of jeans. I reached over and carefully pulled it out.
"Did you find something?"
"Yikes.” I jerked upright and my back slammed into Sergio's body. “Don't do that."
He stepped back and rubbed his chest. “Sorry, but I didn't find anything over there, so I came over here to help. Did you find something?” He peered at the book in my hand.
Before I could answer him, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.
"Gary!” Sergio and I said at the same time.
Panic struck. I slipped the notebook into my back pocket and edged away from the door.
The footsteps stopped outside in the hallway.
I held my breath and watched. In the space under the door, the shadow moved closer and then continued down the hallway.
I let out the breath I had been holding.
I turned and saw Sergio pull the patio's sliding door open.
"What are you doing?"
"I was going to jump over to the next balcony,” he said.
"Who do you think you are? Tarzan?"
"At least I didn't freeze and do nothing, unlike some people."
"At least I wasn't going to kill myself, trying to play Spiderman on the balcony."
Sergio closed the door and stormed across the room. He snatched the doorknob and twisted hard. “I'm leaving.” He jerked the door open and continued down the hallway to our room.
"Wait,” I called after him. “I haven't finish searching the closet.” I ran after him. A few seconds later, our room door flung open and slammed into the wall with a bang.
Gary's room door closed behind me as I ran down the hall. I rounded the curve in the hallway just in time to see our door close. I dug into my pocket to retrieve the room key, then I remembered. The notebook.
Without thinking, I turned and headed back to Gary's room. I had to put the notebook back. At the door, I reached forward and turned the knob. Locked.
What was I thinking? The door had locked automatically when it closed, and Sergio had the key. I spun around and walked right into Gary. I bounced off of his massive oiled chest.
"What are you doing here?” he asked.
"I... I...” I stuttered and tried to regain my balance before I toppled over.
Gary stepped forward and caught me, stabilizing me on my feet. “I got off early.” He smiled and took another step. Before I could say anything, his grasp increased on my arms and pinned them down next to my side. He moved in closer.
"Wait a minute,” I said, pushing hard against Gary's chest. My hands slid across his oiled torso. He released my arms, and I stepped back. “I think you're confused."
"No, Taylor, I think you're the one who's confused, confused about your feelings.” As he exhaled, I could smell alcohol on his breath.
I stared at him in shock. “What?"
"You keep telling everyone your friend Molly booked your trip to Club Fred, when we all know that's a lie. You wanted her to send you here. Why else would she do it?” His eyes narrowed. “She knows you better than you know yourself."
I looked at him with my mouth open. Had I stepped into a parallel universe? Why wasn't I waking up from this nightmare?
Gary grabbed my arms again and held them securely down by my sides. I bent my elbows and grabbed onto his forearms, rock solid forearms. I didn't need to manual muscle test him to know his strength was five out of five. Twisting my shoulders from side to side, I tried to break his hold. My feet dug into the tile floor, seeking traction to force my body away from his.
Gary smiled an evil grin. “You're getting excited, aren't you?"
That stopped my struggle. “What?"
"I'm getting hard.” He licked his lips. “Aren't you?"
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. Sweat erupted from the pores on my palms as my nails dug into them.
This was not happening. This was not happening, my mind screamed.
I opened my eyes, oh, but it was.
Gary's eyes twinkled and a lecherous smile curled on his lips. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and traced his lips slowly, while his eyebrows raised and dropped. An image of Groucho Marx came to mind, but instead of saying, “Guess the secret word,” he said, “Give me a little kiss."
Instantly, my fight or flight reflexes kicked in. My hands pushed against his forearms and I pulled away from him with all my weight. My mind was whirling with too many thoughts. Was he the one who had stalked me on the beach? Was he involved in throwing the snake? He was in the boat with me. How could he have thrown it? What did he really want? Mashed potatoes on his lap? As soon as that question crossed my mind, an image flashed across my mind. “No way!"
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Let go of me now.” I said each word slowly and distinctly, so there could be no misunderstanding.
"I like it when you play hard to get.” Gary's hands still held me in place. He puckered his lips and came in for the kill, or should I say kiss.
"I'm not playing,” I said, helplessly, wrenching my neck from side to side. I could taste the whiskey on his breath when I opened my mouth to holler. Just before the scream could erupt, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash behind Gary. My mouth closed and my eyes focused on the metallic object that rose above his head.
Suddenly, I recognized it. Sergio's machete. As it shook above his head, “No, Sergio!” exploded from my mouth.
The blade lowered behind Gary's towering form.
From between puckered lips, he breathed into my mouth. “Don't think you can fool me...” and then a dull thud sounded behind him. His eyes focused on me. His head and lips pushed against mine, and as our mouths met, his eyes rolled back into his head and went blank. His hands released my arms; his body crumbled forward and knocked me to the floor.
I landed hard on my butt, Gary's dead weight flattened and trapped me under his body.
"What were you two boys doing?” Sergio smirked, standing over us with the machete hiked up to his shoulder like a soldier standing at attention. “I'm telling Molly."
Gary lay on top of me with his nose sticking in my ear. I pushed up onto my elbows and slowly slid out from beneath him. As my legs escaped from under his body, I ignored all my years of therapy training. Instead of cradling his head, I let it hit the floor with a hollow thud.
"I can't believe you hit him with the machete. You could've given him a head injury,” I scolded him as I struggled to my feet.
Sergio puckered his mouth and then started. “Is that all the thanks I get? I just saved your virtue. Or did I prevent...” He tapped the back of the blade on his palm. “Besides, I hit him with the handle, I could've used the other end.” He gently ran his finger along the cutting edge, and jerked it away suddenly. “Ouch.” He stuck his bleeding finger into his mouth.