Chapter 32: Pretty Is As Pretty Does
I was well aware of the late afternoon hour when I escorted the gentlemen back to the boat. I felt a lot safer as they parted, though I stayed in full view of the waiter and bartender in the empty restaurant.
I had caught my reflection before we had exited the cabin and, despite it all, was holding on to the compliment from Bocas PD that I “cleaned up well.” Sun-kissed and black hair always held its own against blood red dresses. There would be a dinner cruise that night, on a yacht out of Panama City, with “certified American staff” as advertised on their website.
Was that a good thing?
In a few hours, they’d be picking up passengers from their resorts, but I had to go see Olivia first. Besides my now limited bridal party duties, I wanted to take a good look at her and see if she really was the person that Emma had claimed.
After avoiding the group of naked people playing tag at Olivia’s resort, I entered her somewhat somber chambers. A platinum-haired beauty was working on Olivia’s hair, thus far teased and higher and blonder than it had been that morning.
Olivia caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled. “This is Carmen, right from town! Who knew? She is seriously stupendously talented and has already made suggestions for making tomorrow’s hair even better.”
And with that, I knew that the old Olivia was back.
Carmen gave a brief wave, which allowed the bride to turn and look at me. She clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh Lex, you look so beautiful, like I knew you would. You look like true love personified.”
She rushed to me and held both of my hands as she took me in as if she hadn’t seen me in years. “She is beautiful, and therefore to be wooed. She is a woman, therefore to be won. That’s Shakespeare and don’t tell me it isn’t because you know that I know that one.” She then let go of my hands to give me a high five.
It was true. She loved her Shakespeare and especially her Henries; this one being from Henry VI, a play that aptly starts at a funeral. Through years of what I now saw as subtle backhanded abuse, I was never fully able to believe any compliment from her about my looks.
When coming into my own at the tender age of seventeen, she had taken me aside at a party, where I’d been having a blast. Olivia had said, ‘It’s so nice, Lexie, that all these guys seem to have crushes on you. It proves that guys do care about more than looks.’
On the kind side, she often set me up with guys, as I was never much good at dating on my own. On the mean side, she never set me up with anyone above what she probably considered my level. She dedicated her book to me. She’d helped me relentlessly with my book. But she never thought it really counted.
Back in the now, she twirled herself around under my arm, landing back in her pampering chair. “Finally,” she said, “we are ready to get this show on the road. And you’re beautiful, these islands are beautiful and I’m beautiful. Was that too narcissistic to say?”
Emma was on my mind as I tried to smile. “It’s never stopped you before.”
She looked at me quizzically, as if that was a move in the game that she hadn’t expected, and turned back to the mirror while Carmen piled teased curls on top of her head. “I’m going to let that one pass.”
Our conversation was staid and formal while she did her final prep for the party. After Carmen buttoned up the back of her dress, Olivia turned to me and furled her mouth, “Spit it out, ding-dong.”
Lloyd was innocent.
It’s what I wanted to tell her, but my jaw stayed clamped shut.
The news would send everyone running to the airport when Olivia’s finishing line was so close in sight. There was a deep vulnerability behind her big blue alpha eyes, and I found myself reverting to the bad habit of wanting to forgive her. Like Emma, I thought I’d give her the same secret present; a normal and calm wedding. Also like Emma, perhaps this was my final gift, and I’d let myself drift away from Olivia after our return to New York.
“I know that I asked you before,” I sheepishly said, “but are you sure you didn’t know anything about Nico finding this loophole in his contract with Walter? It was going to let him buy Walter out, for like hardly any money at all.” My words were slow and clear. I watched Olivia’s expression change from surprise to defiance to anger.
“That’s ridiculous. I’d certainly know about it,” she snapped. “Why would Walter want to do that? Nico was his best friend and best man. And what’s the point of telling me now? Who cares anymore?”
“I’m telling you because I’m your friend, Olivia.”
“This is the worst wedding ever,” Olivia said, turning away from me.
Clearly.
I was bumming Olivia out big time, and once on the dinner cruise, she abandoned me, transforming like usual into the charming hostess. After a few people smiled and raised their glass to me, all my hero status of the morning was forgotten. My fifteen minutes had come and gone. No one approached me for clever small talk and my anxious claustrophobia set in.
“Woah,” Amanda said from behind. “I’ll so be happy to have half a day off tomorrow. We should be getting overtime pay.”
You have no idea.
She smiled at me and offered a glass of champagne. I was sick of drinking but took a small sip when we toasted, also thinking that if I just held the full glass no one would offer me another.
We observed the rowdy party in silence. “Amanda, people are whispering that you and Nico had an affair. And he had pictures or video or something? I guess this was one of his things? I don’t want to upset you, but I just thought you should know.”
“People are saying that, huh?” she nonchalantly said. “I didn’t know it was common knowledge, which is unfortunate. I’m paying the price, though. I told the hubby months ago, rather than have Nico holding anything over me. Supposedly I’ve been forgiven, but all I’m saying is that it’s a good thing there’s a couch in our cabin.”
Now I was pissing Amanda off too, and she quickly made her way into the party.
Not guilty? I think. Is it safe to cross her off the list?
The seating plan had been changed by Marianna, who’d become the de facto maid of honor while I had put myself in harm’s way. I’d been turned on.
I had been reseated with some of the people I liked the least; Edgar and Mrs. Edgar, Colleen, Joe the nephew who was the only person under twenty-six at the wedding and strangely still wearing braces. Still clinging to my half-assed investigation, I sat down next to Edgar, who was yapping it up with some chic couple whose names I no longer had the energy to remember.
“Edgar,” I interrupted. “I never really got the chance to say sorry about Nico. I know you guys were close.” Mrs. Edgar didn’t acknowledge me.
“It certainly is a tragedy,” Edgar said, lacking much expression. “He will certainly be missed.” Our talk ended there, and he returned to his jovial conversation.
Doing what all socially awkward people do at parties when no one is talking to them, I pulled out my phone, finding a text from LaGuardia: ‘Poison has been replaced with a saline compound. No worries if anyone gets jabbed now!’
That’s some good news at least.
I scanned the room again, preferring to withdraw rather than try to participate anymore, but was startled to meet Josh’s stare.
He was not alone in the corner of a party. Josh sat next to Marianna, who had her hand casually on his, laughing in the easy-going and feminine way that she did so well. Perhaps he had explained the comic side of John Dos Passos, rarely, if ever, seen.
Josh had tolerated me, and maybe was actually entertained or impressed by me when trying to solve a murder, but I wasn’t suitable for nighttime flirtations. Despite the fact that the general consensus was that I ‘cleaned up good’. He cleaned up pretty good too. I’d always been a sucker for a man in a seersucker suit.
He was Lloyd’s prime suspect, and it was beginning to come together. Josh had been one of the very few people staying at Punta Cara
col last night. He had a motive. He didn’t want to buddy up with me for safety, despite his own instructions to the rest of the gang.
Everything Lloyd said was ringing true in my ears, including the fact that Josh had been trailing around with this amateur flatfoot for the duration of my less than successful investigation. I quickly turned to Edgar, pretending to be part of his raucous conversation.
Walter hit his wine glass with a fork, and the silence took over. Walter stood center stage, flanked by Olivia playing a perfect first lady. He appeared to be as in love with his own voice as he was with Olivia.
“I’ll have to admit,” he loudly announced, “that this has been one hell of a week. Intensely horrible, and yet filled with love, yes love. And back to spending my evenings with you,” he continued, followed with laughter. “I need to dedicate tonight to my eternal friend Nico and my brilliant assistant of five years, Becky. I can’t believe that Olivia is going to be my wife tomorrow, but tonight belongs to the two people in my life who are so tragically gone.”
The room applauded like it was an award ceremony, not a slapdash intoxicated memorial speech. He went on for far too long, so the guests returned to previous more interesting conversations in whispers.
The food was bland, like all dinner cruises, no matter what ridiculous amount they paid for it. Dessert was followed by the inevitable dancing. Couples flocked to the dance floor while I poked at my undercooked crème brûlée with a fork.
It’s time to go.
I nodded goodbyes to various folks as I made my way to the back of the boat, hoping I could find a member of the crew to take me back to land with a lifeboat or a jet ski or frankly anything that floated.
“Are you going?” Josh said, following me in the dark. “Can I come with you?”
I was too polite to say no.
Chapter 33: Swimming Lessons, Part 3
I felt relatively safe leaving with Josh because I knew that the poison had been replaced as part of the detectives’ questionable trap. I didn’t want to chalk it up to my sheer stupidity. Josh would sacrifice Lloyd to the gallows and return to Chicago, having committed what was looking like the perfect crime.
“I hated that party. You look like you hated it, too,” he smiled.
I could hear my deep nervous breaths over the sound of the motor. I looked back at the giant yacht that was slowly disappearing out of view. My heart was beating double time and I was sweating through the polyester of my ridiculous Inquisitor costume.
Josh continued, “You know, I was thinking that maybe Lloyd didn’t do it after all.”
Was this going to be a Scooby Doo moment?
Would he confess his master plan and then kill me too?
We walked towards our rooms and he said, “Okay, this sounds stupid but I’m going to say it. Put your bathing suit on and meet me in my room in five minutes. I’m not going to be the only man at this wedding not to give you a swimming lesson. But you need a real swim lesson, not some half-baked instruction, not so subtly masking an attempt at seduction.”
Hmmm. There was more than one way to skin a cat, that is to say, he could drown me just as easily as poison me. As was par for the course, the restaurant was almost empty, with a few drunk locals doing shots with the bartender. I could only assume one of the men at the bar was the drunk undercover police officer LaGuardia had promised. He caught my eye, and I hoped it was true.
“I understand your fear of drowning, but what else is the fear about? It has to come from somewhere. Sharks? Giant octopus? Drowning is a very real and valid fear, but you have a better chance of dying by bee sting than being killed by a shark. That’s true.”
I softened at his use of statistics. “I don’t know why I’m afraid.”
“I don’t foresee you becoming captain of the swimming team anytime soon, but I would like to give you the skills needed so that if you fell out of a boat, you wouldn’t die, and that doesn’t include an early morning extended back float in three feet of calm water. I’m guessing there won’t be the same number of men lining up to teach you how to swim on a nightly basis when you get back to New York.”
How do you know how many men are lining up to teach me to swim in New York?
Okay, yes, maybe none.
Definitely none.
He had the back door open when I got to his room. He was searching for something in his drawer. He was wearing black board shorts and his shirt was off. He turned around and tossed me a pair of blood red goggles. “You’re going to need these.”
We walked out to the deck and sat down with our toes touching the water.
“Now spit in the goggles.”
“Gross,” I said. And spat.
“Now wash them out with salt water. The goggles won’t fog up that way.” He then put them on my head and checked the seal. “Come on.” He hopped off the deck into the water and I followed. Though the water was warm a shiver ran up my back. Josh took my hand and led me farther into the ocean.
“Taste the water. Then spit it out. Get used to the taste.”
I couldn’t have looked less sexy if I tried.
Very academically, he patiently taught me to tread water, which I’ve been told is just like riding a bicycle, but I wouldn’t know about that. After I had mastered that pre-school task, he explained the doggy paddle.
Humiliating.
“Okay,” he said while swimming about fifty feet from me. “Paddle to me.”
“I can’t,” I said and did nothing for a while, staring at him. “I can’t.”
“You can. You’re hardly going to get your face wet.”
“I look stupid. You look regular.”
I started treading water and then swam to him; goggles and cupped hands letting me swim at a snail’s pace. Slowly but oh so surely, I reached him. If he was teaching me to swim, he was saving me, not killing me. He wasn’t the killer. I stood up in front of him on tiptoes, spitting out the water I’d collected on my long journey. “I did it.”
“You did it. Of course you could do it.”
“I did it,” I said again.
He cocked his head and did a half smile kind of smirk, silent for a moment, like he was conjuring something very witty to say, but simply repeated, “You did it.” He held out his hand to shake.
I took his hand, “Thank you.”
Not giving me back my hand, he bit his bottom lip while looking at me inquisitively. Slowly he pulled me closer to him and kissed me, sweetly. I kissed him back, with increasing intensity.
We waded back towards his terrace, kissing every few feet. We reached the deck and he helped lift me to the edge, where I turned around and sat, kissing him while he stood between my legs, his hands growing more confident with my body.
“Do you want to come inside?” he asked.
I kissed him back and said, “Yes?” though it wasn’t a question.
Back inside he threw me a towel and we both dried off. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yes?”
He poured two glasses of wine and brought them over, putting them down on the table next to me. He started kissing me again, his hands running through my damp hair. In between kisses, he whispered, “It’s been a while. You know?”
Still kissing him, I replied, “Me too.”
He reached over and picked up our drinks. We toasted without saying anything in particular. “Do you want to come upstairs?”
I said nothing, but slowly removed my bathing suit, and stood naked in front of him.
He took a step back, looking me up and down, finally saying, “You are so beautiful.”
I walked up the stairs slowly, with him closely behind. I lay on his bed as he took his shorts off and lay next to me. Before kissing me, he rested his hand on my hips and whispered, “This is going to be great.”
And it was.
DAY FIVE
Chapter 34: Wh’appened?
There was no Olivia watching over me when I woke up, but there was no Josh next to me either. I had slept so soundly t
hat I felt quite guilty when I opened my eyes, the ceiling fan and ocean providing the perfect hypnotic calm. I pulled the white sheet around me and sat up, cheeks flushed as my mind replayed the events of last evening.
After a beautiful few hours, we’d stayed up until just before dawn, sharing secrets and telling stories, falling asleep tangled up in unfamiliar warm limbs.
“Josh?” I called, in as demure of a voice as I had in me.
No answer.
Suddenly very conscious of my nudity, I looked for something to put on, finding nothing, so I pulled the sheet tighter to head downstairs to meet the day. I crossed my fingers, hoping that I’d find Josh returning to the room with some coffee, not murdered, lying across the sofa surrounded by a group of red frogs.
A new day began, and I was still alive.
Josh was neither dead nor present on the ground floor, terrace doors open, sun shining on the almost full bottle of wine. My red bikini was in a corner on the floor. I put it on quickly, much more aware of my body’s imperfections.
I quickly walked to my cabin, dreading the thought that anyone would see me. What was there to be embarrassed by? That someone might think that I was actually having sex? Laughter from the restaurant seemed quite distant, but I could see with clarity that it was undeniably Olivia lording over a small group, which was my first taste of lemon for the day.
I took the time to make sure I still “cleaned up good” and slowly walked down the dock to the restaurant, heart beating, unsure of what I was going to say when I saw Josh.
Josh was sitting across from Olivia, drinking coffee, joined by Dave and Edgar. Olivia was super animated, enthusiastically telling a story, making everyone laugh. All of her darkness seemed to have left, and she infectiously smiled at me.
“Hail, hail, the gangs all here!” For my eyes only, she whispered, “Floozy.” Then, of course, she winked.
Who says floozy?
I dragged a fifth chair to the table, squeezing in between Olivia and Dave, joining the happy group who were busy telling embarrassing stories about Walter in a game of one-upmanship. Josh was less at ease as I sat, catching my eye quite often but always looking immediately away, blushing every time. It hadn’t felt like a one-night stand, but I’d never had one before. Conceivably, I had already experienced the beginning and end of us. It really hadn’t felt that way.
Drowning Lessons Page 18
