Rock Around the Corpse

by Lizbeth Lipperman

  The tall woman, whose shoulder length dark hair was also covered by a white hat, smiled at the crowd before she and the chef took one final bow and retreated to the kitchen.

  “Tomorrow, you’ll meet the rest of the staff. I’ve got a busy weekend planned.” Haley handed the microphone to the waitress. Just as she was walking back to the table, they heard a scream from the other side of the room.

  “Help! Does anyone here know first aid?” A man’s frantic voice bellowed.

  “I’m a doctor,” Kate said, standing and heading that way with the others from the table directly behind her.

  Kate pushed her way through the circle of people who had formed around an attractive, middle–aged woman lying on the floor, her face scrunched in pain.

  “Annie tripped on the edge of the floor over there,” the man said, pointing to the place where the end of one of the planks of the wooden flooring was definitely raised. “She thinks she broke her ankle.”

  Kate bent down and took the woman’s hand in hers, feeling for her pulse. “I’m an OB doctor, Annie, but I did spend six months on an orthopedics rotation in med school. Can I have a look at your ankle?” When the woman nodded, Kate picked up the affected foot and gently removed the shoe. After examining the ankle in question, much to the woman’s discomfort, she reached for the first aid kit Haley had brought over.

  “I don’t think it’s broken, but a twisted ankle can hurt almost as much as a fractured one. I’m going to wrap it with this Ace bandage and ask that big strong man over there to carry you back to your room.” She pointed to the limo driver, who was standing in the corner. When he nodded, she focused back on the injured woman. “I’ll get the chef to prepare an icepack and send some ibuprofen along with you if you’re able to take it. You’ll need to stay off the foot as much as you can and keep it elevated. I’m sure Haley can arrange for the masseuse to come to your room when you feel better.”

  “No need to carry her,” Haley said, suddenly appearing with a wheelchair. “Thanks to Deena and her great ideas, we have a room filled with basic medical supplies.” After the limo driver lifted the injured woman into a wheelchair, she instructed the waitress to push her back to her room.

  Deena glanced up to see Brent standing over the area where the woman had fallen. After getting down on his knees for a better look, he stood up, his face red with anger. Then he marched over to a man who was on his way to the door. When he reached him, he grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. “Hold on, Wharton,” he shouted. “What the hell kind of shoddy products did you use on this floor? I know for a fact you were instructed to purchase only the best, in lieu of what they’re finding out about asbestos in the cheaper brands.”

  The man turned and glared at Brent. “What would you know about flooring? Obviously, the problem is with the glue, not the installation. You can’t blame that on me,” he countered.

  “Glue, my ass. Anyone can tell the quality of this entire floor is subpar. I guarantee I’ll be poring over your invoices with Haley in the morning to find out why.”

  “You do that,” Gary Wharton said, his eyes unable to hide the hatred. “And you can go to hell in the meantime.” He turned and walked through the door, slamming it hard behind him.

  Brent stared at the closed door before he walked over to Deena and the others. “We’ll see who’s going to hell after we have a look at his paperwork.”

  Haley hurried back to the center of the room, microphone in hand. “If everyone will take their seats,” she announced in an easy, calm voice, no doubt attempting to diffuse the situation. “I need a few more minutes, please. First of all, I’d like to say how unfortunate it is that Annie hurt her ankle tonight. Let’s all say a prayer that the injury will be better after ice and a little rest. Try to avoid the area where she fell until we can get it fixed tomorrow morning.” She attempted a smile, but it was obvious she was still shaken by the woman’s fall and subsequent injury.

  “I know a contractor who only builds seven figure homes in Oklahoma City, and he owes me a favor. I’ll give him a call in the morning to see if he can head up this way and check out the flooring,” Brent hollered up to her before pulling the chair out for Deena. After sitting down next to her, he grabbed her hand under the table and massaged it suggestively. “No way, I’d trust that drunken idiot Wharton to take care of it.” His voice would never be mistaken for a whisper, and everyone in the room was now staring at him.

  Haley shot him a look that begged for him to be quiet and not stir up the crowd. “Please be seated. There’s still so much I need to say before you all retire to your rooms. I’ll start by introducing everyone.” She walked over to their table and stood behind Deena. “This is the wonderful Deena Rodriguez, who is responsible for making this spa so gorgeous. She’s brought her three sisters with her, and thankfully, one of them is a doctor. Who knew we would need her expertise on the first night?”

  When the crowd laughed, Haley seemed to loosen up a bit. “The gentleman sitting with Deena is the Honorable Judge Brent Kershaw of Dallas County. Brent came to me early on and was so interested in this spa, not only did he join me at the beginning stages himself, but he persuaded his brother to invest as well.

  At the next table, she pointed to a young couple and a woman who looked like she was barely out of college. She introduced the single woman first. “A big welcome to Naomi Patterson, up and coming reporter for the Sooner Review, Oklahoma’s top magazine. She’s here to do a story on Tranquility Rock, so let’s be on our best behavior and give her some really good material to work with.”

  Moving around the table, Haley put her hands on the shoulders of the young couple, before introducing the woman, who looked stunning in a bright yellow dress. “This is Olivia Mason, my new friend who heard about the spa and came to me with an idea that benefits both of us. She and her husband Sam—she pointed to the slightly overweight man next to Olivia—are looking to schedule investment seminars for their clients.”

  She moved over to the last table where the injured woman and her husband had been seated. Another young woman sat alone and smiled when Haley approached. Deena couldn’t help wondering how all these millennials were able to invest money into the spa. She was barely able to put away enough to build a nest egg with her earnings.

  “This is Carlene Newman, who came to me just last week when she heard I was looking for investors. And you all met Annie Elliott. She and Theo decided to come this weekend to see if they wanted to invest in my dream of expanding the best spa north of the Red River. Hopefully, in another year, we will be able to double the capacity. All of you are part of my family now, and together, we can make Tranquility Rock a place where everyone can come to get away from all the stress of the big city. So, let’s celebrate what we’re building here.”

  After her speech, she started toward Deena and the others when another waitress ran up and whispered something in her ear. Haley nodded, then turned again to speak to the diners. “Good news. India tells me that Annie is resting comfortably and hopefully will be able to participate in the activities tomorrow.” She waited until the applause died down before continuing, “Now, I have to make sure everything is set up for tomorrow. Stay as long as you want. The staff will keep the champagne flowing to anyone who wants to extend the party. This is your weekend, so make the best of it, and I’ll see you all in the morning.”

  “Nothing like a little excitement on the first night,” Maddy said, taking the last drink of her champagne. When Brent picked up the bottle to refill her glass, she shook her head. “No thanks. I’m already way over my limit. I think I’ll just go up to the room and read myself to sleep. I’ve been looking forward to this weekend for so long, and I want to get an early start.”

  “Me too,” Lainey said, standing. “Deena?”

  Deena took a deep breath, knowing her resolve to try the dating thing again would fade fast without her sisters there as support. But it was now or never. “You guys go on. I’ll be along shortly. Maybe I’ll have
one more drink.” She held her empty glass up to Brent and sent him a silent message with her eyes.

  He lifted the champagne bottle, never taking his gaze off her as if needing further confirmation. When she smiled, he took a deep breath and refilled her glass. “Drink up, Deena. I want to learn everything I can about you, and if plying you with alcohol gets me that information, then so be it.”

  Deena looked away from him just in time to see her sisters go through the door on their way to the rooms. Living with a man who’d cheated on her the entire marriage had destroyed her self confidence in a lot of ways but especially, in her dealings with potential male friends. Mike had done a pretty good job of convincing her that no other man would want her sexually. Her sisters had worked hard trying to dispel that notion, but she knew the lingering doubt would always be there—until it wasn’t.

  But first she needed more liquid courage.

  By the time the champagne bottle was empty, she and Brent had been talking for over an hour. She’d found him to be funny, entertaining, and definitely attentive to her—something that was more potent to her libido than any aphrodisiac. Of course, she wasn’t naïve and knew the liquor had a lot to do with how easily they seemed to be together. But being able to flirt right back when he did was worth the hangover she knew would show up in the morning.

  By this time, most of the other guests had already left, and they were getting the evil eye from the waitresses. “Looks like we may have worn out our welcome here. Would you like to come up to my room for a nightcap before we say goodnight?” When she nodded, he called one of the waitresses over. “Could you send a bottle of Scotch to my room?” he asked, slipping her a fifty dollar bill discreetly.

  India, according to her name badge, looked surprised before she recovered and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Kershaw. I’ll get right on it.”

  “I’m not sure I can handle much more alcohol tonight,” Deena said. The last thing she wanted was to get drunk and start puking—a consequence she’d suffered before when imbibing too much liquor. She stifled a giggle thinking how that would definitely put a damper on the romantic evening he obviously had planned—or at least what his body language implied he had planned.

  When he stood and offered his hand to help her up, she felt like an adolescent girl getting ready to cross the line in the back seat of a souped-up Chevy. Again, she held back a grin, thinking that was exactly how she’d lost her virginity in the first place. Mike had been so proud of that car when he’d picked her up for the prom their junior year. It had been their fifth or sixth date, and she’d known he wanted to go farther than second base.

  She hoped tonight’s race for home plate wouldn’t be as awkward as that time so many years ago, although the odds were not in her favor. Other than her husband, she hadn’t had sex—or even a serious make-out session—with any other man, even though Mike had been gone almost two years. She missed being with someone—someone who found her desirable. Remembering what Tessa had said earlier, she hoped she wasn’t the one who had forgotten how to shift the gears.

  Yes, she didn’t know Brent well enough to get a true read on him, but she didn’t intend on marrying the guy. She just wanted to get over the hump that kept her from going out with men—the getting naked in front of a man. Her head whispered that she would probably never see him again after this weekend, but the romantic part of her heart wondered what it would be like if she did.

  Walking to Brent’s room, he reached for her hand, as if to assure her that it would be okay. She chided herself for being such a baby. Hell, fourteen year-olds were having sex all the time. But that thought only brought on more anxiety. She wasn’t a teenager with a tight, adolescent figure anymore. Although she’d improved her body a lot since she’d been widowed, the fact remained, she was in her thirties, and gravity was definitely a bitch.

  As soon as they entered his room, he kissed her, lightly at first, then more demanding. She’d had just enough champagne to loosen her up, and she leaned into his embrace. Just as his hand circled around to her back and settled on her zipper, there was a knock at the door.

  “Ignore that,” Brent mumbled, keeping his hands on her zipper.

  But it was all Deena needed to slither out of his embrace. She thought she was ready for this, but apparently, she needed more time. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, barely able to breathe now.

  Although it was obvious that he was annoyed at being interrupted, he sat down on the edge of the bed and talked about living in downtown Dallas.

  Just when the conversation started to get awkward, there was another knock on the door.

  “Perfect timing,” he said, getting up and walking to the door. “That has to be the Scotch. We’ll have one more nightcap, and then I’ll show you how a woman like you should be treated.”

  She swallowed hard. A woman like her? Good Lord, it was about to happen, and she still wasn’t quite ready yet. She looked around, wondering where her dead sister was when she needed her. She’d have to settle for that Scotch—maybe even more than just one to slow down her racing heart.

  After tipping the waitress once again, Brent placed the tray on the dresser and poured two glasses of the amber-colored liquor before handing her one. She sipped the Scotch, ignoring the burning sensation that trickled all the way down to her stomach, knowing it was needed to squelch her inhibitions. In as matter of minutes, she had finished the entire glass and held it out for a refill. He seemed only too happy to oblige. A jolt of electricity shot through her when he handed her the glass and allowed his fingers to linger on hers a few minutes. With her lips tingling, she was almost ready— ready for what she’d come to his room to do. Bringing the drink to her lips, she threw back her head and drained it in one gulp.

  She’d done tequila shooters with her sisters before, but she was unprepared for the rush of warmth that now pulsed through her body. With all her fears about what was about to happen successfully drowned by too much alcohol and too little food, she was feeling no pain and ready to take this to the next level. It was time to say goodbye to being alone and rejoin the world as a vibrant, sexually-satisfied woman once again.

  This time when Brent reached for her zipper, she moved slightly to make it easier. The black dress slipped to her ankles. When she saw the appreciation in his eyes as he stared at her, she was grateful she’d splurged on the black lacy strapless bra and matching panties to go with the dress.

  “Oh my God! You’re gorgeous,” he said, kissing a trail from her neck slowly down the length of her body.

  She moaned softly as the effect of his lips on her bare skin was making her dizzy. Reaching behind, she caught herself on the edge of the bed when she nearly fell. The room was now spinning like a pinwheel on a windy March day, and she sat down and stared at him. “Brent?” That was the last thing she remembered as she lay back on the pillow.

  When she opened her eyes again, the room was exploding with lights like the Fourth of July fireworks. Before she could get her bearings and figure out where she was, the door slowly creaked open, and she tried to sit up. Amidst a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, all swirling around in a frenzied pattern, she made out a large creature entering the room and coming toward the bed. Despite her intense fear, she was mesmerized by the reds, blues, and purples forming a circle around the intruder. She tried to scream but nothing came out. The creature moved closer, its silver skin shimmering in the sliver of light escaping from the bathroom. It called her name, and in that moment she realized it was Nûñ'yunu'wï, the stone clad monster.

  Why was he coming for her? Was he angry because of what she’d done to the hunting lodge?

  This time she was able to scream just as the monster put his hand over her mouth.

  And then she felt the prick in her arm.

  Chapter Four

  Slowly, Deena opened her eyes, immediately aware of the throbbing in her head. She attempted to sit up, but the pain intensified, and she fell back onto the pillows. Although the room was still dark, sunlig
ht peeked through the half-opened drapes, signaling the beginning of another gorgeous fall day in Texas.

  But she wasn’t in Texas. She and her sisters were in Oklahoma celebrating the opening of the spa she’d decorated. Bits and pieces of the night before began flooding her brain, and she remembered how much alcohol she’d consumed.

  “Maddy?” She turned over carefully, moaning when another sharp pain stabbed at her forehead.

  She sucked in a surprised breath when she realized her sister wasn’t the one in bed with her. Staring at the back of Brent Kershaw’s head, a visual of him undressing her brought another audible gasp. She blushed, remembering how brazen she’d been the night before, flirting outrageously with him and coming back to his room with him for a nightcap with giddy thoughts of ending her two-year sabbatical from men and sex.

  Quickly, she glanced under the covers. Clad only in her bra and panties, she turned back to Brent and realized he still had his suit on. What kind of sex could you have totally dressed? Had they gotten so drunk they’d both fallen asleep? She giggled, thinking how lame she was at this man/woman relationship thing. She’d finally gotten up the courage to move on with her life with a man as smart and good-looking as Brent, and then she’d failed to close the deal. The glee quickly turned into a frown when the pounding behind her eyes returned. How could she possibly have imagined that getting falling-down drunk was a wise decision?

  She decided there was nothing she could do about that, and right now, her main priority was to swallow a bottle of ibuprofen and kill that little dude with a hammer inside her head. She forced herself to sit up before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Spying her new black dress in a heap in the middle of the floor, she stood, not prepared for the wave of dizziness that washed over her, forcing her to collapse back down onto the bed.

  Glancing toward Brent, she was surprised to see that he hadn’t moved. Must be nice to be able to sleep that soundly, especially if his hangover headache is as bad as mine, she thought. But he’d had a lot to drink, too, and probably would appreciate a few more hours of sleep. She tried her best to be as quiet as she could when she was finally able to stand without rocking back and forth. Taking baby steps at first, she made her way to the center of the room, retrieved her dress, and quickly put it on, already anticipating the mountain of grief she’d take from her sisters when they saw what a wrinkled mess it was. Getting the zipper all the way up was a daunting task, especially since every move brought a new wave of pain in her head.