Authors: Lance Zarimba
"Well, I'm glad you're so vain. It just saved your life and mine."
"Thanks,” he rubbed the spot where the bullet had hit, “but let's just keep that little secret between us, okay?"
"It's not like anyone is going to believe me about this trip anyway."
I picked the bullet out of the vest and handed it to him. “You may want to keep this as a souvenir of our trip."
He held his hand over his chest. “I think I already have one, if this pain is any indication."
Mike raced down the tunnel with a fire extinguisher in hand. He quickly put out the fire and pointed the nozzle at us. “What are you guys doing down here?” he demanded. “Trying to burn the place down?"
We both pointed to the pool of water behind us.
Mike walked to the edge and looked down. “What am I supposed to see?” I helped Sergio to his feet, and he leaned against me for support. We joined Mike at the edge and peered into the water.
Geoff's body was gone.
The next morning,
Never Can Say Goodbye
blended into
Don't Leave Me This Way
as Sergio and I worked our way across the lobby to check out. Men milled around with suitcases, while others waited in lines for the buses. The sun blazed down on the damp guests as I kicked my American Tourister bag forward. Sergio pulled his sunglasses down on his face.
Despite the hurricane, the majority of vacationers looked happy and rested, completely unaware of what had happened behind the scenes. Smiles and animated conversations resounded as the lines moved slowly forward.
"It looks like everything is finally over.” Sergio looked around the lobby. “Hey, wait a minute!” He paused. “We never did figure out who took your Speedo."
"I haven't checked your bag yet,” I teased.
Sergio placed his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. “Speedos don't do anything for me."
"It sure made an impression on you when we were unpacking,” I reminded him.
"I was just surprised that you owned one,” he said.
"Sure,” I said, eyeing him suspiciously.
"All I can say is that I'm glad it's yours and not mine."
"And what do you mean by that?” I asked.
"Can you just imagine what someone is doing with your Speedo?” A shiver racked his body, and he grabbed his tiny chest and winced.
"That's what you get for being such a jerk,” I said. The same thought had crossed my mind, but I wasn't ever going to see it again, let alone wear it for that matter. “Thanks for that wonderful image."
As the first bus left, a white van with a red cross painted on the side pulled up in front of the resort. Mike emerged from the front office and held the door open. Two staff members carried out a stretcher with Cha-Cha lying in the center. She was propped up on a pile of pillows, giving orders the whole way into the van.
As the men loaded her in, her Tina Turner wig slipped off her head.
"My wig. I need...” and one of the ambulance doors bumped her head. “Ouch! You stupid..."
Mike picked up her wig and tossed it in.
"Be careful with that. That's a Tina...” and the other door slammed shut, muting her.
"I thought she'd be flying out of here, “Sergio said.
"She didn't look like she needed to be air lifted, now did she?"
"I didn't mean by air ambulance, I meant on a broom,” he said with a smirk.
Before I could respond, Sean pushed and waved his arms as he chased the Magnetic Boys through the crowd. “Wait. Wait you guys. I have the perfect job for you."
The men in the lobby parted as the three made their way through. The Magnetic Boys paused and turned to hear what Sean had to say. “Picture this if you will.” He spread his arms wide to the side. “You guys dressed in those leather outfits, the ones that you wore on stage in the talent show, and the title above you will read
Sons of Edward Scissorhands
."
The Magnetic Boys turned, looked at each other, and walked away from Sean without a word.
He stood there for a second. “What about
The Pirates of the Piercings
?” he called after them and broke into a trot, trying to catch up.
"I guess Tom told him the news,” Sergio said. He glanced over my shoulder and pointed. “Speak of the devil."
Turning around, we watched as Tom approach. He held up his camera when he saw us.
We waved him over. When he neared, Sergio smiled. “I see Sean's scouting out new talent."
"I pity them if they're foolish enough to sign with him,” Tom said.
"What about you? Do you have any plans?” I asked.
"I think I'm going to take it slow and see what I can afford. After checking with my financial planner, I'll see what business I can get into."
"Maybe you could move to Sioux Falls,” Sergio suggested.
Tom looked at me, and I held up my hands. “It's the Midwest,” I warned.
Tom smiled and nodded. “The villagers would run me out of town with burning torches, right?"
I nodded. “You got the picture."
"But you could come and visit, anytime,” Sergio offered.
"My wife and I would love to meet this Molly you guys have been talking about,” he said.
"I'm sure you would,” I said. “But seriously, if you ever want to get away from sunny California and see the flat plains and prairie, you're more than welcome to come and visit. You can stay at my house or his,” I pointed to Sergio.
"He has a dog,” Sergio said, screwing up his face.
"I love dogs,” Tom said.
"I could get a dog,” Sergio added, quickly, “that is if my landlord would allow pets in the apartment complex."
Tom laughed. “Don't make me an offer that you guys don't mean. I just may surprise you one day and take you up on it. Now, how would you explain that to your neighbors?"
"I doubt your movies are playing in Sioux Falls. They may be playing at his home.” I glanced at Sergio. “But I know we can't get them to play a foreign film there, let alone..."
"Say no more,” Tom smiled.
"I saw...” Sergio stopped and flushed. “I mean I think I may have seen one of your movies when it was playing..."
I looked at Sergio and his pale complexion took on a shade of red.
"Never mind,” he squeaked out.
"I've got to run,” Tom said, pointing to one of the buses. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Here's my address, phone number, and e-mail, if you want to keep in touch.” He offered it to me.
Sergio drooled.
Tom turned to look at him. “I have one for you too.” He reached into his pocket and handed it to him. He held up his camera. “A quick picture?"
"Sure,” we said in unison.
Tom grabbed a guy walking by and asked him to snap a few shots of us. The man did, and Tom shook my hand and gave Sergio a quick hug and was gone.
A stunned Sergio walked in a daze we handed in our room keys and signed the check out forms. As we turned to leave, Logan made his way through the crowd, his head wrapped in gauze. “I was hoping I'd catch you before you left."
"Aren't you going?” I asked.
Logan pulled us out of the crowd to get some privacy. “I'm staying here an extra week. I haven't completed as much of my book as I had originally hoped, because of you two. Thanks for helping me find out that it was Geoff and Gary that had been blackmailing me. I hired Duane months ago to find out who was doing it. He was the one who suggested I come here to help flush out the blackmailer. He had been following similar cases and thought we could solve it here."
Logan looked around at the departing guests. “When I didn't see Duane at the resort, I figured he didn't come. I never thought he had been murdered. Anyway, thanks for figuring it out.” Logan handed me a sheet of paper. “I thought you'd like to see this. It's my dedication page for
Kill Me! Kill Me! Kill Me! (A Man After Midnight)
."
It read:
I smiled as I read it, and then handed it to Sergio.
"I wrote my phone number and address on there. I hope we'll keep in touch. I'd like to stop off in Sioux Falls and do a book signing on my tour for this one.” He held up the bag with his laptop. “I feel obliged, if you know what I mean."
"Cool, I hope you do, Logan. We need more authors to come and sign their books in our town. We'll even take you out to dinner,” Sergio said, “Taylor's treat."
"You're on.” Logan clapped me on the shoulder. “See you soon.” He left.
"Take care,” I called after him.
"I'll have to get busy and start reading his books,” Sergio said.
"I'm sure you'll like them,” I said.
Don't Leave Me This Way
mixed and turned into
Please Don't Go.
I frowned when I caught sight of Mike making his way over to us. “Don't look now."
"What's up?” Sergio asked as he turned. “Oh great, just what we need.” He stiffly bent over and grabbed his suitcase. “Let's get out of here."
"Hi, guys. I was hoping I'd catch you before you left. I wanted to let you know that we found Geoff this morning. He washed up on the beach, just like Duane."
"Well.” Sergio pushed me toward the buses. “We should be going."
"Oh, wait. That wasn't why I was looking for you.” He slowly brought his arm, which he had been holding behind his back, in front of him. In his hand, he held an anatomically correct golden statue of a man. “With all the excitement at the talent show and after, you left before they announced the winner."
Sergio's eyes bulged out of his head. He swallowed hard. “We won?"
Mike nodded. “First place.” He handed him the trophy.
Sergio tentatively reached for the award.
Mike smiled. “The rest of the guys wanted you two to have it. Congratulations."
"I don't know what to say.” Sergio looked at me. “We can share it, if you want... Six months with you and..."
I looked at the figure. “No thanks. I think you earned that one all by yourself. Besides, it won't fit on my mantle."
Mike turned to me. “I wish I had one for you, too."
"No, that's okay.” I held up my hands, warding off the thought. “I think I've had enough of Club Fred for a while."
Mike smiled. “Is there anything else I can do to thank you?"
Seeing the expression on Sergio's face, I motioned to the statue. “I think you've already done it."
"Has your vacation been everything you hoped for?” Mike asked.
"I won't go that far,” I said, throwing my bag's strap over my shoulder.
"What can I do to make your trip everything you wanted it to be?” he asked.
Molly's voice echoed in my mind, and her words came out of my mouth, “Give me my money back.” I smiled.
"Sorry, I can't do that, but I can do this.” He handed me a white business envelope with the Club Fred logo on it. “I would like to invite your whole act back to perform again next year."
"I'll think about it,” I said.
"Not very hard, I'll bet,” he teased.
"You got it."
"Well, let me know, if you change your mind,” Mike said, and left.
A tear rolled down Sergio's cheek.
"What's wrong?” I asked.
"It's like saying goodbye at the end of summer camp,” he said.
"You went to camp?"
He put his hands on his hips. “No. But I could have. I've seen this scene in a movie once or twice before."
"Was Tom starring in it?” I teased.
Sergio ignored my comment and nudged me. “Open up your envelope. I want to see what Mike gave us."
My finger slid under the glued tab and revealed a piece of parchment, tri-folded inside. I removed the sheet and opened it: “This entitles the bearer and a guest to a complimentary week of fun at any of the Club Fred locations."
"Whaa-whoo! We're going back to Club Fred again next year,” Sergio yelled, jumping around, waving his trophy. “It'll be so much fun.” He stopped and grabbed my arm. “A reunion! Picture it. We could get the whole gang back together. Maybe we could do ABBA next year or Diana Ross and the Supremes!"
I picked up my other bag and started walking toward the bus.
"Wait up,” Sergio said, as he bent over and tried to grab his bag. “Hey. Wait a minute.” He stopped. “I have a great idea. We could bring Molly with us next year!"
And with those words, I ran.
Lance Zarimba is an occupational therapist working in Minneapolis, MN. His mystery,
Vacation Therapy
, is the first book in his “Therapy” series which involves an occupational therapist who solves crimes with the help, but more likely the hindrances of his friends. He also has two children's books:
Oh No, Our Best Friend is a Zombie,
and
Oh No, Our Best Friend is a Vampire.
His short stories are in:
Mayhem in the Midlands
, Pat Dennis’
Who Died in Here? 25 mystery stories of crimes and bathrooms,
Anne Frasier's
Deadly Treats
anthology, Jay Hartmann's
The Killer Wore Cranberry
and several other short stories for Untreed Reads, and eshort stories on Echelon Press. He can be reached at [email protected]
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