Getaway Girlz

by Joan Rylen

  On the walk back, Lucy pointed out a woman lying on a towel in the sand. “That right there, is why y’all need to wear SPF 75 at all times.”

  Vivian glanced at her out of the corner of her sunglasses. She was horrified. The woman resembled a raisin and it was difficult to determine if she was in her twenties or fifties. Her skin looked like dry, crusty leather.

  “People need to know when to say no to tanning,” she said. “That’s just down right ridiculous.”

  “She’s off the pale scale,” Wendy said.

  The man sitting beside her stood up, revealing his banana hammock. However, no banana filled the hammock.

  Kate shook her head. “That’s awful.”

  Wendy gasped. “Horrible.”

  “Dear god,” Vivian said.

  “He’s wearin’ it loud and proud, though,” Lucy said.

  This got a round of laughs and the couple looked their way. Vivian waved and continued on.

  The beach at their hotel was more populated when they got back, so Vivian stopped to ask a few folks if they had seen Stella, describing her in detail. No one had, so the four headed up to the room to freshen up. Lucy started searching for bugs.

  “Lucy, I think we’ve pretty much covered everything,” Vivian said.

  She didn’t look convinced and kept at it. “You never know. They can be sneaky.”

  The search turned up nothing, as Vivian expected.

  They left the room and Lucy put the “do not disturb” sign on the door.

  “We don’t need the room cleaned,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Lucy, I’m not sure that would deter anyone from breaking in and putting bugs in our room, but if it makes you feel better, okay,” Kate said as she walked down the stairs.

  Lupe Mendoza, the reporter from Escándalos, waited just outside the hotel lobby. She shoved a tape recorder in Vivian’s face and started in. “Who was the mysterious woman you chased at the market yesterday? Where did you go after you left the ruins? When did you get back to the hotel last night? What did you have to do with Jon Tournay’s murder?”

  This drew the attention of a few more reporters who had gathered at the hotel, and they rushed over.

  Lucy pushed Lupe’s recorder away from Vivian. “Get the hell outta our way. She didn’t have anything to do with Jon’s murder.”

  Wendy and Kate shoved other reporters aside, saying, “No comment,” several times. The reporters followed them to the edge of the pool deck but no further. Vivian heard shouting, which drew the reporters attention back to the hotel. Vivian didn’t turn around to see what the commotion was about.

  Manuel settled them into four chairs. “I no let them bother you,” he said, nodding toward the reporters as he pushed Lucy’s umbrella open.

  “Thank you so much, Manuel. We appreciate that,” Lucy said, adjusting her sunglasses. “Can we have four waters, too, please.”

  She then pulled out a plethora of sunscreen from her bag and passed it out to the girls. They obediently applied, helping each other out when necessary. Then they leaned their chairs back and enjoyed the sun. Well, except for Lucy, who had maneuvered her lounger to encapsulate herself in shade.

  “Lucy, you just covered yourself in sunscreen!” Vivian said.

  “Yeah, but I won’t ever look like the California raisin lady we saw a little bit ago.”

  “Can we drink yet?” Wendy said, holding up her water. “Something besides this?”

  Kate looked up at the sky, as if she were telling time Crockadile Dundee-style. “It’s not 5 o’clock yet.”

  “Oh behave, just until the party. You’ll thank me later!” Lucy retorted.

  Vivian leaned over to Wendy and told her they’d sneak shots when Lucy wasn’t looking.

  “I heard that,” Lucy said.

  Kate ran doomsday-esque scenarios about Jon’s murder and subsequent events. The girls arrived back at the same decisions about suspects and where and how to look for them: Beach for now, Ponytail no-way, Stella will find them and Shorty at his party later. Vega sucks, Arturo rocks, and jail in Mexico is out of the question.

  After the recap, Vivian needed to relieve stress and had noticed the hotel masseurs set up shop behind them on the beach. Four tables, long, flowy drapes surrounding them and a sign that said $25 USD for an hour was too inviting to pass up.

  “I’m going to get a massage,” Vivian said peeling herself out of her chair. “You can’t beat $25 bucks and who knows, it could be my last one. Anyone else want to go?

  “I’ll go with you,” Lucy said. “I learned my lesson, buddy system.”

  They returned a few minutes later, big grins on their faces.

  “What’s up?” Wendy asked, removing her sunglasses.

  “We have lined up massages right now, for all four of us,” Vivian said to Wendy and Kate. “Manuel is saving our spots so come on.”

  “I don’t know…a massage right here in front of everyone?” Kate asked.

  “Yes,” Vivian knew Kate was worried about removing her swimsuit and added, “you don’t have to get totally naked if you don’t want to. Plus, they put you under the sheet.”

  Wendy, enthusiastically, and Kate, semi-reluctantly, followed Vivian and Lucy to meet their masseurs — three Hispanic women and one thirty-something white guy.

  The man was of slim build with neatly trimmed brown hair and goatee. He delicately shook hands with Lucy.

  “I’m Rodney, and this is Gloria, Maria and Isabella. Go ahead and get on a table, face down. Keep everything on.” He patted the table he was standing beside and Lucy hopped up. “Once on the table, you can remove your top, or not, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  Everyone got half-naked, except Kate. The masseurs got to work, asking each of them if there was a particular spot they needed worked on.

  “My lower back,” Vivian said. “You can go to town.” Since carrying the mongo-twins to full term, her back had never been the same.

  Isabella rubbed something fabulous smelling in her hair. Then moved down and worked on her feet. Vivian sighed as the tension started draining away.

  Lucy’s masseur was chatty, telling them he had been in Playa del Carmen for a year. He was from Colorado and used to work at The Ritz Carlton in Bachelor Gulch, which he highly recommended.

  “That place is fan-f-ing-tastic,” he said. “You girls should totally go there.”

  “Mmmm, good idea,” Lucy said, sounding relaxed.

  “Did you hear a guy was killed on the beach here the other night?” he asked.

  Wendy lifted her head. “Yeah, we’ve definitely heard about it,” she said in a tone indicating she didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Jon was hot. I had given him a massage,” Rodney said and sighed. “His friend Pierre is cute, too. I heard they were hanging out with a local bad boy. I don’t understand it.”

  “You mean Julio?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes, honey. He and his two girlfriends come into our spa, the Tropical Paradise, just down the way, on Quinta Avenida. Actually, today is their usual day but they cancelled.”

  “I bet he’s getting ready for his party tonight.” Kate’s words were muffled coming through the round face thingy.

  “Party?” Rodney asked.

  “Julio’s having a big blowout tonight at his casa,” Lucy said. “He invited us.”

  “Oh, I want to go!” Rodney said in his best scandalous voice.

  “I bet it’s the more the merrier. Wanna come?” Lucy responded.

  He did a little jump and clap. “I’d love to!”

  Vivian glanced over to Kate’s masseuse. She was giving Wendy’s masseuse a “look.”

  Lucy saw it, too. “Is it a bad idea for us to go? Will we be in danger?”

  Wendy’s masseuse muttered under her breath, “Tenga cuidado.”

  Wendy translated. “She just told us to be careful.”

  Uh oh…

  CHAPTER 50

  THE GIRLS returned to their loungers on the beac
h, and between the massage and the warmth of the sun, Vivian dozed off pretty quickly into a happy nappy. She had been out for a while when a shadow cast over her face. She opened her eyes reluctantly and saw Al’s broad smile.

  “Hey cupcake, kill anyone today?”

  Vivian was speechless.

  “I’m just kiddin’, sugar.” He winked.

  He tossed a newspaper into her lap. “You gals made headlines. Have you seen the Escándalos today?”

  “What?” She sat up and grabbed the paper. Sure enough, a picture of them in ponchos and sombreros graced the front page.

  The girls gathered around to get a look. Wendy translated the headline. “American Murder Suspect Chases Woman down Quinta Avenida.”

  “At least we aren’t as recognizable in our get-ups,” Lucy pointed out.

  “And my tutti-frutti hat,” Kate added.

  “Yes, and your tutti-frutti hat,” Lucy concurred.

  “You looked fruitylicious in your hat, Kate,” Vivian told her.

  “You gals look like you were attacked by the fleas from a Mexican flea market,” Al commented.

  “Actually, we did this to ourselves in a musical moment,” Kate admitted and then added, “with Pierre’s help.”

  Al slowly shook his head. The corners of his mouth turned up and his face was a little red. He was clearly trying not to bust out laughing.

  Vivian cleared her throat to get their attention. “Wendy, can you read the rest of the article?”

  “Okay, but the translation might be a little sketchy.”

  She grabbed the paper. “The police. Quinta Avenida yesterday. Information from shop owners. Testimonies. Group of women and a man in merchandise of tourists and to take – that’s not the right translation, carrying musical instruments. Persiguió – I don’t know that word, pursued, maybe, another woman down the street. Something about spectators.

  “We might have knocked a few of them out of the way in our chase,” Vivian said.

  “Yeah, that must be it. Okay, one of the women is a participant, no suspect, in assassination of Jon Tournay. A Canadian celebrity. Police haven’t released her name.”

  “Assassination. Oh god,” Kate said.

  “Store owner, Pedro Montoya, said the women were in his shop, playing with the merchandise when they commenced the persecution.”

  “We didn’t persecute anybody yesterday,” Lucy said.

  “It’s the translation. I think it really means chase. Only high school Spanish, okay? Cut me some slack. It goes on to say they paid for the merchandise but only at insistence of the police. It finishes saying no one involved in the chase would comment.”

  Vivian was speechless.

  Lucy wasn’t. “The nerve of that reporter! She makes us sound like horrible people.”

  “We should go talk to her right now and set her straight. That bitch!” Kate was evidently pissed off, too.

  “Calm down, ladies, you don’t want to go talk to Lupe.” Al bit the tip of his cigar and spit it out. “You won’t be able to set her straight. You keep refusing to talk to her so she’s getting back at you. She wants you to approach her and make a scene. That would make more news and be another great headline.”

  “I just can’t believe how she slanted this article to make it sound like we’re the bad guys!” Kate said. “And she didn’t even mention my hat.”

  “Al is right, we don’t need to talk to Lupe, at all, ever.” Vivian snatched the paper and threw it under her chair. “She will only make us, mainly me, sound like murderers or ‘assassins’ as she put it. So far we’ve only been in the local Playa paper. I can’t have news of this getting back home and to Rick. Let’s just lay low. If we make a scene, you can bet Nancy Grace or somebody will be down here in a flash trying to interview me.”

  Lucy, Wendy and Kate nodded in consent.

  “I have more news.” Al pointed at Vivian with his unlit stogie. “I saw that Ponytail fella here at the hotel yesterday. I think he was here looking for you.”

  “That S.O.B. won’t leave us alone.” She was pissed off Ponytail snooped around their hotel. Maybe he’s the bug planter?

  “I just wanted you to know he was at the hotel.” Al got out his butane lighter. “I’m serious when I say you need to steer clear of that guy. He’s no good.”

  “We saw him in Cozumel last night.” Kate sat back down on her lounger. “He saw us take the ferry over so I guess he followed us.”

  “You girls need to stay away from him. I’m outta here. You got my number if you need me.”

  “Where’s Adrienne?” Lucy asked.

  “She went shopping, grabbing some gifts for the cousins back home. We have dozens of them, you know.”

  “Dozens of cousins. That’s funny,” Vivian joked, even though she was still pissed about Ponytail being there yesterday.

  “You ladies have a nice afternoon. Don’t kill anything but brain cells.” Al lit his cigar as he walked off and blew out a big puff of smoke.

  “Let’s think about this for a sec,” Kate said. “Al said Ponytail was here looking for you, or us, yesterday. But just three days ago, the night Jon died, he was sitting at the poolside bar watching us eat dinner with Al and Adrienne.”

  “We hadn’t done anything more incriminating than kill brain cells at that point,” Wendy noted. “Not that we’ve done anything incriminating since,” she finished.

  “So was Ponytail here for us, or for Al? And why would Al intentionally try to place the blame on us?” Kate asked.

  “We need to search our room again for bugs,” Lucy said, getting back under her umbrella.

  Good point all around. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  Vivian closed her eyes, hoping to block out the current conversation and resume her nap since there was nothing they could do about Ponytail, the paparazzi, or anything else for the time being. She figured she might as well try to lower her blood pressure, catch some rays and some zzz’s.

  CHAPTER 51

  VIVIAN AWOKE from her nap on the beach to the sound of some definite selling.

  “Two for one. Two for one,” a guy said. “I sell you good time.”

  Holy crap, what’s this guy sellin’? she thought.

  Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight and she saw a guy in a ratty, straw cowboy hat talking to Kate.

  “You have fun.” He waved his arms toward the ocean.

  “What exactly is he selling?” she asked groggily.

  “He wants us to go parasailing,” Kate responded.

  Not what she was expecting.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun,” Wendy said and sat up in her lounger.

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said reluctantly. “What sort of safety standards do they impose in Mexico?”

  “How much?” Vivian asked, ignoring Lucy.

  “Seventy-five dollars each,” he responded.

  “What? That’s crazy!” she exclaimed. “Loco!”

  “I’ll give you $75 for all of us,” Wendy offered.

  He countered with a hundred.

  “How long?” Vivian asked.

  “Forty minutes,” he said. “Twenty minutes each two. Plus boat ride.”

  “Okay, sold. $100,” Wendy agreed.

  The man looked pleased and signaled a guy out in a boat.

  “I’ll go get the fundage,” Vivian offered and hauled herself from her chair and hoofed it up to the room. She used the keycard and checked out the room for any sign of disturbance or bugs. Lucy would be pleased to hear the results.

  She got into her secret stash, counted out $100, including a bit more for tip, and headed back to the beach.

  The deal-maker, who said his name was Paco, greeted her at the water’s edge, took the $100 then waded with her out to the boat. Lucy, Kate and Wendy had already loaded up, strapped on life vests and were sitting in the back. Paco helped her up the little ladder, gave a wave and said “Hasta la vista.”

  “Guess he’s strictly the beachcomber sucker-seeker,” Lucy said and laughed.


  A stick of a man handed Vivian a life vest and introduced himself as Raul, then introduced Santiago, the captain.

  Vivian got situated and Santiago gunned the boat, taking them out to deeper water.

  The captain stopped the boat and waited for Raul to give Kate and Wendy instructions then strapped them into their harnesses and put them into place on the back of the boat. They looked nervous sitting on their butts, holding onto their harness for dear life.

  Santiago gunned it and Kate and Wendy shrieked as they flew off the back, a rainbow colored parachute pulled them up, up, up and away. After about 40 feet of line had zoomed out, Wendy waved but Kate still looked petrified.

  Raul watched the giant reel pump out the line attached to Kate and Wendy. Vivian saw a little blue flag go out. Then a red one.

  “Uh, Raul. I saw a red flag. Rojo. Is that bad?” Vivian asked.

  “Oh no. Is okay. Is okay. Wait for yellow.”

  “If you say so,” Vivian said, still hesitant. Red usually means stop, doesn’t it?

  Kate and Wendy looked like little ants in the air at this point. Have I paid $100 to see them face their doom? she wondered.

  The reel produced a yellow flag and Raul hit a button. The line quit unwinding and Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. She and Lucy waved at the girls, who waved back.

  Wendy and Kate floated for a while as they cruised along the coast. Eventually, Santiago signaled to Raul and he hit another button which began to reel Kate and Wendy back in. He periodically watched them and checked the line as it rewound.

  When they got to the blue flag, Santiago killed the engine. They watched Kate and Wendy float down, slowly but surely, until they were right above the water.

  “Should they go for a little swim?” Santiago asked Lucy and Vivian.

  “Oh yeah, definitely!” Vivian said.

  They yelled as he dipped them into the water. Santiago started the engine back up, and the boat moved forward slowly. Wendy and Kate were totally barraged with water and they worked to keep themselves in the trapeze-type contraptions. He eventually got them back into the air and he and Raul laughed at the accomplishment.

  Lucy got up and crossed the boat to Santiago. “Do not do that to us or no tip.”