Rock Around the Corpse

by Lizbeth Lipperman

  India glared defiantly at her. “Drugs. Are you satisfied?”

  “Using or selling?” Maddy asked before Lainey could respond.

  “Both.”

  “What kind of drugs?” Maddy probed.

  “Mostly heroin, sometimes party drugs.”

  “Like ketamine?” Vince asked.

  Maddy held her breath waiting for the answer. If it was yes, this just might be the slam-dunk they needed.

  “Sometimes. Usually the younger junkies asked for that.”

  “Did you put ketamine in the bottle of Scotch before you delivered it to Kershaw’s room?” Maddy asked outright. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arlene peeking at them from around the corner. They needed to finish up with India and get to the other waitress before she ran off to her room.

  India shook her head as a lone tear slid down her cheek. “I was crazy about the guy and would never hurt him. He’s the reason I have this job, and I owe him a lot.”

  “Are you saying that Kershaw was responsible for Haley offering you a position at the spa?” Maddy asked.

  “Yes. He said he wanted to make sure that everything was on the up and up here, and I could be his eyes and ears for anything that seemed unusual.”

  “Like what?” Vince asked.

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. I only know he was particularly interested in finding out if anyone was asking a lot of questions about the layout of this place.”

  Maddy thought it strange that the dead man would want that kind of information. It was something that would require further discussion back in her room. She glanced down at her watch then stood. “We’re done for now. I would suggest you don't mention what we talked about to anyone until the police arrive tomorrow.”

  India tried to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off. “Are you going to tell Arlene about the tip?”

  “Don't you mean the tips?” Lainey asked. “My sister told us that Kershaw gave you a fifty dollar bill in the dining room and then another one in his room.” When India opened her mouth to say something, Lainey continued, “We won’t tell her unless it becomes necessary. In the meantime you can help your own cause by being our eyes and ears from this point forward. Think you can do that?”

  India smiled gratefully. “Of course. Who should I report to if I do see or hear anything weird going on?”

  “That would be me,” Maddy said, amazed at how easily her journalist sister had gotten India to cooperate. But her curiosity was in overdrive as she wondered why Brent Kershaw felt the need to plant a spy at the resort in the first place.

  *****

  For the third time in less than ten minutes, Sergio Rolando peeked out from a small crack in the kitchen door. Why were they taking so long? Paranoia hit him like a two-ton truck. Were they talking about him? He cursed under his breath for letting his guard down for a few hours of sex and telling the waitress the real story about what happened in New York.

  In his defense, his stress level had been through the roof last week as he worked to ensure everything came together for the opening dinner. But instead of things running smoothly, it had been like an F5 tornado had thundered in, taking his carefully made plans and ripping them apart like a trailer park sucked in and tossed around by the deadly wind. First, there was the food. The delivery truck had broken down halfway to the spa and had to be towed, causing a two-day delay while they arranged for another truckload of supplies to be delivered. It had nearly given him a heart attack when it didn’t arrive until late Thursday night. Then when a mistaken keystroke by some idiot sales clerk had pushed the liquor order back a day, it had nearly sent him over the edge.

  Thank God Paulina had taken charge, called the company and worked her way up to the senior management demanding action. After listening to her screaming at the unfortunate soul on the other end, he’d decided that if he were smart, he’d make sure to stay on the woman’s good side.

  Ultimately, all her ranting had been successful, and the liquor distributor had made a special, after hours delivery to this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere. And as a gesture of good will, the man had sent an extra case of the expensive bubbly with the shipment for the trouble and stress his mistake had caused. Sergio and Paulina had both been so giddy with excitement when it looked like they were going to pull it all off a little before midnight on Thursday, that they’d decided to break out the extra champagne.

  Paulina had made up a platter of her Brazilian nachos, and added a chocolate cake she’d whipped up earlier in the day as dessert for the celebration. Together with India and Arlene, they’d toasted each other for a job well done. With the deadline behind them and the liquor flowing freely, they’d all gotten pretty wasted by the time the party ended in the wee hours Friday morning.

  Having never been one to hold his liquor very well, Sergio usually showed some restraint in that area, especially since over imbibing had gotten him into trouble a time or two in the past. But after several bottles of champagne, he’d mustered up enough courage to make a play for the petite waitress, who was clearly out of his league.

  At first, India had resisted his advances, refusing to drink with the lame excuse that champagne gave her a headache. But after much ribbing by her fellow waitress, she’d not only accepted a glass of the bubbly but chugged it to prove Arlene wrong about her being a sissy drinker. After that Sergio had stopped counting the number of rounds India had consumed, because with every glass she threw back, she’d gotten a little cozier with him.

  When the party broke up after three, she’d surprised him by suggesting they take the last bottle and head to his room. Once there, she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off him, and he’d been ready to jump into bed right then and there. But she’d said she wanted to talk first and then asked him a lot of questions about how he’d ended up at the spa, a story no one but Paulina knew. With India’s hands driving him crazy, he would have blurted out state secrets. Once he’d told her everything, they were rolling around under the sheets like teenagers.

  Christ! The girl was like a freakin’ contortionist. Round after round of dynamic sex had made spilling his deep, dark secrets well worth it—or at least he’d thought so at the time.

  Now, as he watched from the kitchen, not so much. Sobered up, he scolded himself for thinking with his small head, especially since when they’d awoken the next morning, India couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough, acting like he had some kind of contagious disease.

  With the exception of Paulina, everyone at the spa—including the owner— thought he’d left a prestigious job to move to Oklahoma. He worried about how much of what he’d confessed to India was being repeated to the lady cop and her merry band of wannabe cops right now?

  “Is everything all right?” Paulina touched his shoulder.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he answered quickly. “I just have a lot to do before dinner tonight and could use India back here to help. They’re taking their good old time out there with her.”

  “What do you think they’re asking her?”

  He stared up at his assistant, not because he was sitting, but because the woman was at least five-eleven and towered over his five-seven frame. With jet-black hair pulled into a bun and covered in a hair net, Paulina Ortiz was an enigma to him still. He couldn’t quite figure her out. Although in dress and demeanor she came across as a straight-laced librarian, he’d dreamt that she’d come to his bed one night. With her make up artfully applied and her thick hair falling loose and framing her high cheek-boned face, she’d looked as exotic as Angelina Jolie—at least in his dream. After that visual, which he still couldn’t get completely out of his mind, he’d given some serious thought to hitting on her on more than one occasion.

  That was before he’d heard her tear into the executive at the liquor distribution center. From that point on he decided to stick with women his own size. Something about Paulina scared him in a way he couldn’t describe. Maybe it was the look in her bes
pectacled eyes when she stared at him, making him wonder if she could see directly into his head. Or the way she always seemed to stay one step ahead of him in the kitchen. If he wasn’t careful, she’d take everything he’d taught her and end up with his job.

  He remembered the first day he’d met her back in New York City. He’d migrated to the Big Apple after working as an assistant chef for years at the Italian Embassy where he’d moved up the chain quickly, mostly because of his grandmother’s personal recipes that he’d brought with him from Genoa to Rome. But he’d landed in hot water one night when he’d hit on some young thing at an international dinner after tossing back one too many vodka shots. As it turned out, the girl was the daughter of one of the ambassadors who demanded he be fired.

  With his reputation ruined in Italy along with his dream job doing what he loved to do more than anything in the world, he’d applied for and got a work visa to come to New York where he’d been hired at the famous Dolce Basilico restaurant in Manhattan. Unfortunately, times were tough, and the restaurant eventually went under. When he found himself living on the streets, he’d swallowed his pride and taken a job as a cook for a company that operated Italian pushcarts arounds the city. Getting up at the crack of dawn to prepare meatball subs, calzones, chicken spiedini, and Italian sausages was a drag and a far cry from the wonderful Italian dishes he’d served at Dolce Basilico, but at least he’d been able to sleep in a flea-bag room instead of on the street.

  That’s what he’d been doing when Paulina Ortiz walked into his life several months ago and told him about this job in the Oklahoma backwoods. She’d already spoken to the owner and assured him that the job was his if he wanted it. But there’d been one condition. He had to bring her along as his assistant. She’d told him that her dream was to study under him and eventually open a Brazilian restaurant in the Midwest.

  At first Sergio had turned her down, but later that week when his boss had unexpectedly fired him because of several complaints about the quality of the food—which was bullshit—he’d been glad he’d kept her name and number handy.

  And now here he was back to doing what he loved, making his signature dishes to great reviews so far. So, although a romp in bed with the Angie look-alike was tempting, he decided that keeping their relationship on a professional level was in both their best interests.

  And now he didn’t need some little tramp talking to the cops and screwing things up again. He vowed to do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen—no matter what it took.

  Chapter Ten

  Halfway to her destination Naomi Patterson sat down on a decaying log and pulled out the bottle of water from inside her vest. She’d guesstimated this to be a four or five mile trek from Tranquility Rock and that it would take a little under two hours. As the sweat rolled down her cheeks, she realized she’d seriously underestimated the distance and the time needed to cut her way through the heavy brush and low-lying branches that had blocked her path most of the way.

  Not to mention the snakes. By her count, she’d had to dodge three of them already, and she was pretty sure at least one of them had been a diamond-backed rattler.

  She put the water bottle back into her vest pocket and glanced up at the sun, now barely visible above the cover of the trees. She’d forgotten how beautiful these Oklahoma woods were at this time of year when summer had reluctantly said goodbye and fall had gracefully waltzed in, bringing just enough cool air to turn the leaves a gorgeous shade of orange-red.

  The last time she and Caleb had scampered through these trees playing hide and seek or some other kid’s game, there hadn’t been so much underbrush. Back then her dad had been meticulous about keeping it in good shape so they could play without getting their legs scratched. She and her younger brother had shared a close bond that most siblings don’t have. Maybe that was because out here in the middle of nowhere, they’d only had each other. With no other kids to play with, no TVs or computers, no distractions, they’d spent the better part of every day—after doing their lessons in the morning— making up stories about monsters who lived in the woods, then daring each other to venture out to find them.

  They’d leave home with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a couple of cookies, and a small thermos full of cherry Kool-Aid as they went on their monster-hunting explorations. In their respective twelve and ten year old minds, they’d always imagined that someday they’d find one of those creatures and bravely slay it with the BB guns their dad had given them for Christmas one year.

  Like everyone else in Oklahoma, they’d heard stories about Nûñ'yunu'wï, the stone clad monster, ever since they were old enough to understand. They’d dreamed of running into him one day and killing him with their guns. Knowing that the monster transformed into a weakened state in the presence of a menstruating woman, Naomi had been elated when she’d turned eleven and started her period. During that time every month, she and Caleb would cling to their guns as they went deeper into the thick trees just in case Nûñ'yunu'wï was still roaming the area.

  They’d known about the hunting lodge but had never actually seen it back then, mostly because their dad had threatened them with his almighty switch if they went anywhere near the place. Although that was a powerful deterrent, Naomi was pretty sure they wouldn’t have been able to find it anyhow. Her dad had warned that some of the hunters who holed up there had no scruples and were just waiting for a young boy or girl to come along. He’d always throw out the story of Hansel and Gretel as an extra incentive to keep them from wandering anywhere near there.

  And it had worked. When she’d arrived at Tranquility Rock yesterday, she’d gotten her first look at the place.

  Taking another sip of her water, Naomi pushed the childhood memories into the back of her mind and once again headed in the direction of the sun. With a little luck she’d get to her destination, do what she needed to do, and then hightail it back to the spa before darkness set in. As a child, she’d only been out in the woods a couple of times after the sun went down, and those frightening memories were more than enough for her to know she didn’t want to find out if it was still as scary now that she was an adult.

  As she made her way through the thick foliage, she was grateful she’d brought along the hatchet. It had been a last minute addition, added when she’d found it in the utility shed in the back of the spa. With the dense underbrush blocking the path, there was no way she could’ve gotten this far without it.

  Glancing down at her watch, she mentally scolded herself for not starting this journey earlier. It had already been an hour and forty-five minutes since she’d walked away from the couple she’d encountered in the gazebo, and she still hadn’t arrived at her destination. She’d have to move quickly once she got there if she wanted to get back before her absence aroused any suspicions.

  That was something she definitely wanted to avoid. The last thing she needed was for anyone at the spa to get wind of what she was doing and why. She’d spent too much time planning for this, and she wasn’t about to share her information with anyone.

  She raised the hatchet and chopped through one last clump of tree branches before she saw it. A rush of tears stung her eyes when she saw the site, now totally in ruins. A mental picture of her brother as he lay dying in his bed in that very spot brought more tears.

  Sweet, shy Caleb hadn’t stood a chance way out here without proper medical care. But if she were being truthful to herself, she’d have to admit that it probably wouldn’t have made a difference even if there had there been a doctor nearby. When her brother had climbed up onto the roof of the barn to find the perfect hiding place from her, he couldn’t have known that the wood was so warped it wouldn’t even hold his sixty-pound body.

  Naomi still remembered the horror she’d felt watching his frail body come crashing through the roof and his head connecting with the large blade of her father’s tractor before he landed. Lying in an unconscious heap, his life had essentially been over right then, even though his li
ttle heart tried to beat on for more than an hour before he took his final breath.

  Naomi remembered the pain that had gripped her like no other she’d ever experienced in her life when she and her dad had buried Caleb in the shadiest spot on the property. But it wasn’t anything compared to the loneliness she’d felt for the next few months following his death. During that time, her father had been so overwhelmed with pain and guilt for not fixing the roof, he’d withdrawn into his own world, sometimes not speaking for days.

  It wasn’t long after that when he’d sent her away to live with her mother’s sister in a small town in Oklahoma. A few years older than her mother had been, Aunt Elizabeth had raised her as best she could, but never having had children herself, had been grossly unprepared to deal with an adolescent girl who was angry all the time. A teenager who blamed the world for taking her mother away when Caleb was born, for taking her sweet younger brother from her before he even had a chance to grow up, and for allowing her father to abandon her at a time when she needed him the most.

  Although her father had tried to maintain a relationship with her, his visits soon became few and far between, and memories of the way her life had been eroded, fading a little more each year she didn’t hear from him. In her senior year at Oklahoma State University, her aunt had died suddenly, and at her funeral she’d come face-to-face with her dad, ready to blame him for yet another loss.

  But she hadn’t been able to strike out at him for all those lost years, for the time he’d been missing from her life.

  Even now, she could still picture how broken he’d looked standing next to Elizabeth’s gravesite—how he’d seemed more like a seventy year-old man than one in his early fifties. In that moment she’d realized that life had been just as hard on him after Caleb’s death as it had been on her. Somehow, she’d found it in her heart to forgive him, and they’d spent a week together in Sweetwater before he returned back to his isolated life at the cabin in the woods.