Burning questions

SAFE HOUSE

“It’s from MrSilhouette!” Sydney cried, sounding on the verge of hysteria. “I should have known it wasn’t over. He’s here! He has to be the one doing all this terrible stuff. What am I going to do?” She turned and buried her face in Vic’s chest. “I never should have agreed to marry you,” she sobbed, her words slightly muffled. “Now you’re in danger too.”

“It’s okay, love,” he said, rubbing her head soothingly. “We’ll get through this.”

Bess stepped over and patted Sydney on the back.

“Yeah, try not to let it get to you so much, Syd,” she added. “Nancy’s on the case now — she’ll track this guy down. She always gets her man.”

I barely heard her. This was an alarming new development. Of course I’d known all along that there was a pretty good chance that Sydney’s old stalker could be behind all the trouble. But this appeared to prove it. I stared at the message and photo, wishing George was there to try to track who’d sent it.

Never mind, I told myself, realizing it probably wouldn’t do any good. This guy was a pro — even the NYPD hadn’t been able to trace his first batch of e-mails. Somehow I doubted he’d gotten any sloppier since then.

Still, I punched a few buttons to forward the message to George’s phone, hoping it hadn’t been totally ruined by its saltwater bath. Just as I finished, the phone buzzed in my hand.

“Incoming message,” I said.

“Got it,” Vic said, grabbing the phone out of my hand before I could see who the message was from. He glanced at the screen, then immediately stuck the phone in his pocket. “Just my agent,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll call him back later.”

He sounded kind of jumpy. And no wonder. We were all a little jumpy at this point.

Sydney was still sobbing inconsolably against Vic’s chest, with Bess crooning into her ear to no apparent avail. Vic glanced around, still looking nervous.

“I think I’d better take her somewhere more private to get her settled down,” he said. “When Madge and the others notice we’re gone…”

I nodded. The last thing Sydney needed right now was a camera shoved in her face. “How about our bungalow?” I suggested. “The TV people never bother to film the three of us unless we’re with one of you guys, so you should be safe there for a while.”

Bess cleared her throat. “Right,” she said. “Except we don’t really know where it is. I mean, we can follow the little map on the key, but we haven’t been there ourselves yet, and so—”

“Never mind,” Vic broke in. “Akinyi’s hut is the first one out on the walk, right out there over the sand — she made them give her that one because she said she’d get seasick trying to sleep out over the water.”

Despite the serious circumstances, I couldn’t help a brief smile. Yeah, that sounded like Akinyi.

“She wasn’t out there on the beach,” I remembered. “So maybe she’s in the bungalow.”

Or maybe not, I realized with a flash of concern. After all, I’d originally suspected Akinyi and Jamal of causing all the trouble. Now that Pandora appeared to be innocent, did I need to consider whether I might have been right about the other two after all?

There was no time to think about that at the moment. We scooted out from our hiding place, tiptoeing across the beach toward the steps leading up to the warren of wooden walkways that stretched out over the water. Soon we were huddled on the tiny front porch of the first bungalow, with Bess keeping a lookout for roving cameramen while Vic knocked softly on the door. I stood behind him, one arm around Sydney, who leaned limply against me. In the distance we could still hear shouts and whoops, presumably from the Great Shark Hunt out in the lagoon.

“Who is it?” Akinyi’s accented voice called out from inside.

“It’s us! Let us in, okay?” Vic hissed, shooting a nervous look around at the nearby bungalows. We were hidden from the beach here, but not very well. Anyone could come down one of the walkways at any moment and spot us there.

Several long seconds passed before the door opened a crack. Akinyi peered out at us, looking wary. “Oh. It is you,” she said, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow when she took in the sight of Bess and me in our damp street clothes. “What is it? I just stepped out of the shower.”

“Please let us in, Kinnie, okay?” Vic urged. “We just got some pretty wild news, and now Syd’s upset, and we’re trying to stay out of camera range….”

“Oh, I see.” Akinyi finally seemed to notice Sydney standing there, and her face softened. “Just wait one second while I throw something on, all right?”

“Kinnie, wait!” Vic began. But it was too late. The door slammed in our faces.

“She’d better hurry up,” Bess whispered from her vantage point at the edge of the porch. “It sounds like the fun’s over out there.”

Sure enough, the shouts had finally died down. I guessed there was only so long that Bo could pretend he was chasing a shark before it became obvious he wasn’t actually going to catch anything.

“She should know she doesn’t have to get all dressed up for us,” I muttered, casting a look at Akinyi’s door as several thumping noises came from inside. “What’s taking her so long?”

Finally, after another few endless moments, the door opened again. This time Akinyi let it swing wide, revealing that she was wrapped in a plush terrycloth robe with the resort’s logo printed on it.

Weird, I thought as we all rushed in. If she wasn’t getting dressed, what was all the thumping about?

“Finally!” Vic blurted out. “I thought you’d never — whoa!”

He caught himself just in time as he stumbled and almost went flying. Glancing down, I saw that he’d tripped over a pair of muddy sandals that had been sitting just inside the door.

Akinyi glanced at them too. “Oh, sorry about that,” she said, kicking the sandals out of the way under a nearby dresser. “I went for a walk in the rain forest to get away from the cameras for a while. That’s why I was in the shower, actually.” She shrugged. “It’s a bit muddy out there.”

Vic didn’t seem too interested in any of that. “Listen, can we hide out here for a while?” he asked, already guiding Sydney toward the nearest chair. “It’s been kind of a tough afternoon. See, first Sydney was out on the water with the girls when someone took a shot at them….”

He went on to explain what had happened, from the pontoon incident to the message from MrSilhouette. Akinyi seemed alarmed by the former and positively horrified by the latter.

“No!” she blurted out, covering her mouth as Vic showed her the photo on his phone. “But I thought all that was over. Oh, Syd, this is terrible! You poor baby!” She rushed over and wrapped her long, slim arms around her friend.

“Come on,” I murmured to Bess. “Let’s leave them to it. We should go get George and then find our bungalow.” A lot had happened since we’d arrived on the island just a couple of hours earlier, and my head was spinning. It was way past time to sit down, catch my breath, huddle with my friends, and discuss it all privately.

* * *

An hour later my friends and I were sitting on the deck of our swank private bungalow. It consisted of a small but luxurious sitting room flanked by two bedrooms, one with a double bed and the other with two singles. George had immediately claimed the private room on the basis that she was injured and needed her rest.

“Oh, please.” Bess had let out a snort. “It looks like they just stuck on a Band-Aid, like you wanted in the first place.”

George had merely smirked and kicked her duffel bag away from the pile of luggage the resort staff had left in the center of the main room, aiming it in the direction of the bedroom door. “You should be nicer to me, cousin dearest. Coral cuts can be deadly, you know. In fact, the guys at the med hut were telling me there’s all kinds of ways to get injured or killed around this part of the Caribbean. Coral, sharks, snakes, jellyfish, scorpions, puffer fish, lionfish, eels, even some kind of weird dangerous algae…”

I managed to get them back on track, and we quickly stowed our stuff in our respective rooms, changed into dry clothes, and then went out to the bungalow’s small front porch to discuss things. There were three deck chairs out there that offered a great view of the lagoon. They also offered a pretty close-up view of the bungalows on either side of ours. Only about ten yards of water separated each of their porches from ours.

“Are you sure it’s safe to talk out here?” Bess asked, casting an anxious glance at one of the neighboring bungalows.

George shrugged and followed her gaze. “They’re not that close. We’ll just keep our voices down. Besides, it doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”

“I hope not.” Bess still looked worried. “Sound carries over water, remember.”

“Well, it’s not like we’ll be much safer inside,” I pointed out. “The hut’s walls seem pretty thin.” I shrugged. “Anyway, George is probably right. The show rented out this entire resort, remember? The crew is probably all out doing their thing, and we know where Syd and Vic and their friends are.”

“I guess you’re right.” Bess glanced at me. “So what do you think of the case so far, Nancy? Do you really think MrSilhouette is on the loose here somewhere?”

“It sure seems like it, doesn’t it?” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, gazing down at the tiny waves lapping against the pilings of the walkway. “But we shouldn’t rule out other possibilities, either. Candy faked that ‘gift’ from MrSilhouette before, remember?”

“You mean you think someone might’ve faked that photo of him too?” George said. “But who?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Any of our list of suspects could be behind it, I guess. There’s Butch, for one….”

“Unless he’s MrSilhouette himself,” Bess put in.

I nodded. “Right. But anyway, that photo isn’t that clear. What if someone brought one of those fake bald head cover thingies like they use on TV? Or even snagged one of the mannequins from the shops here at the resort — I’m pretty sure most of those probably have bald heads so the window dressers can put different wigs on them when they change out the displays.”

“Good point.” Bess looked impressed and thoughtful. “But I still can’t figure out who would want to make Syd’s life miserable like this. Other than her stalker, I mean — I get that motive. He wouldn’t want her to be happy with anyone other than him.”

“Well, what about Akinyi and Jamal?” I kicked at a knot in the porch floor. “We thought they were cleared when Pandora pulled that knife, but…”

Bess gasped. “Oh, wow! I hadn’t even thought of that!” she exclaimed. “You mean you think they might have been behind the trouble after all?”

“Not necessarily.” I bit my lip, remembering with some discomfort how upset and disappointed the pair had been about missing the wedding, and their touching reunion with Sydney and Vic at the reception after being released by the police. “But we don’t want to rule anything out, either.”

“Hang on — but Jamal couldn’t have been the one who shot at us,” George pointed out. “He was on the beach with Vic the whole time, remember?”

“Oh!” Bess’s eyes widened. “But Akinyi was nowhere in sight. And there was mud all over her cute Louboutins, remember?”

“Her what?” George blinked in confusion.

“The sandals,” I said grimly. “She even said she’d been for a walk in the jungle. And she definitely didn’t want to let us in when we first got there — almost like she needed time to hide something first.”

“Something like a gun?” Now George looked alarmed. “Whoa.”

“And she and Jamal arrived on the island earlier than everyone else,” I reminded my friends. “So that would’ve given them plenty of time if they were the ones who ransacked Syd and Vic’s cabin….”

“Oh! That reminds me.” George sat up straight. “While I was at the med hut, I was chatting with the guys there like I said —”

“Right,” Bess broke in dryly. “The Wild Wilds of Dangerous Nature gang.”

George ignored her. “—and they told me which bungalow it was. The one that got ransacked, I mean. Apparently there are three honeymoon huts here, and after what happened, the resort moved Syd and Vic to a brand-new one right away.”

“Really?” Now I was the one who sat bolt upright. “Did they say if the vandalized one had been cleaned up yet?”

“They said it was, just as soon as the local police finished up there yesterday,” George said. “But you never know….”

I was already jumping to my feet. “Do you think you can find it?”

“Definitely.” George stood up too, as did Bess. “Come on, let’s go take a look.”

Soon we were creeping cautiously along the wooden walkways once more. It wasn’t easy to stay inconspicuous. As I said, the walkways crisscross over the shallows of the lagoon, leading in a sort of meandering maze from one bungalow to another. In between, they’re pretty much open to full view from every direction. Still, we did our best to hurry along those sections and keep a lookout for anyone who might be glancing our way.

Finally we reached the bungalow in question. It was made of palm thatch and bamboo like all the rest, but was larger and fancier, with a silky two-person hammock strung on the flower-draped porch.

“Think you can pick the lock?” I whispered to Bess.

She nodded with confidence. Bess might look like a helpless girly-girl on the outside, but she’s anything but. She’s got a natural talent for fixing things, from cars to toasters and everything in between. Picking a lock is usually a piece of cake for her.

“See anyone?” she muttered, sidling toward the front door. “It might take me a minute here, since they use those computerized key cards….”

She reached for the door, automatically testing the knob. To all of our surprise, the door immediately swung open.

“Wow,” George said with a slight smirk. “You’re even better than I thought.”

“Come on,” I murmured, already darting through the door.

The window shades were all down, making the interior of the honeymoon bungalow dim and shadowy. Even so, it was immediately obvious that the place had already been straightened up just as the employees had told George.

“Looks like they did a good job,” George said, glancing around the spotless sitting room. “Figures. A place like this doesn’t mess around.”

Bess had wandered farther into the room. “As long as we’re here, I want to see what the honeymoon suite is — Hey! What’s that?”

Taking note of the curious tone in her voice, I hurried over to join her in the bedroom doorway. The bedroom was just as luxurious and spotless as the outer room. The only thing that seemed out of place was a sheet of paper lying on the bedspread.

George was peering over our shoulders by now. “What’s the big deal?” she said. “Probably just a welcome note for the next set of honeymooners.”

“Maybe.” But I doubted it. My heart was thumping. I have a sort of sixth sense about things sometimes — George likes to call it my hunch-o-meter. And it was going off now.

I walked over and pushed aside the mosquito netting surrounding the bed. My eyes widened as soon as I got a clearer look at the paper.

“It’s not a welcome note,” I said grimly, picking it up. “At least not the kind you meant.”

It was an ordinary sheet of white paper. Someone had used a black marker to draw a bulbous shape that took up more than half the sheet. Written below the drawing in a rough scrawl were the words: MrS SEES & HEARS ALL.

“Whoa!” George let out a low whistle as she took a look. “MrSilhouette strikes again!”

“Looks that way.” I stared at the paper.

Bess looked alarmed. “Is that drawing supposed to be his bald head?”

“Must be,” George said. “But why’d he leave the message here? Syd and Vic aren’t even coming back to this room.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know that,” I suggested. “In which case, maybe he doesn’t see and hear quite as much as he thinks.”

“But if he’s here at the resort, wouldn’t he have to know they’re in another cabin?” Bess pointed out. “Especially if he’s disguised as, like, a member of the crew or if it’s Akinyi and Jamal….”

“Good question.” I frowned down at the paper, trying to puzzle out exactly what this meant. “Could he be hiding somewhere else on the island? Or maybe even doing things remotely from back in the U.S., maybe paying off locals to wreck the room and do the other stuff, or —”

Bess was nodding with interest, but George had turned away, not seeming to be paying attention. “Hey,” she broke in, sniffing at the air. “Does anyone else smell smoke?”

I hadn’t until that moment. But now that she mentioned it, I did. “Is that coming from outside?” I asked.

Bess reached the bedroom doorway in two strides. Peering out into the main room, she gasped. “No!” she cried. “This place is on fire!“

George and I raced over and saw that she was right. Fingers of flame were licking at the fabric shades on a couple of the windows, and the sofa and one of the wicker chairs were already fully engulfed. “Hurry!” I yelled, coughing from the thickening smoke. “Let’s get out of here!”

Bess led the way to the door. It was closed. When she yanked on it, it didn’t budge.

“It’s locked!” she cried.

“It can’t be. Let me try.” George pushed past her and grabbed the knob, pushing and pulling at it desperately. “No way! Now what?”

I was already scanning around. The fire was growing with every passing second — we didn’t have much time to find a way out. As soon as the flames reached the dry thatched roof, the whole place would become a deadly fireball.

“Check the windows!” I choked out, doing my best to cover my nose and mouth with the neck of my T-shirt.

I ran over to the closest one that wasn’t aflame. Scrabbling past the shade, I found a metal screen attached firmly to the sturdy wooden frame. My first attempt to punch through it left me with nothing but scraped knuckles to show for it. Holding my breath, I leaned forward to try to see if there was an easy way to unlatch it. My heart sank as I saw that it appeared to be bolted firmly in place with several large screws.

“Over here!” Bess called.

I turned and squinted through the hazy smoke inside the cabin. She was just tucking something into the pocket of her shorts. A second later, coughing nonstop, she hoisted herself onto the windowsill and kicked out the screen.

George and I raced over. “Go! Go!” George shouted.

Bess didn’t need to be told twice. She flung herself out through the window, and a second later I heard a splash from somewhere below. George was already climbing over the sill, and as soon as she jumped, it was my turn.

I swung my leg out the window and glanced around. The walkway outside the bungalow was already on fire, and I heard the faint sounds of shouts from somewhere off in the distance, telling me that someone had noticed the smoke. But there was no time to think about that — I could feel the heat on my back as I glanced down at the lagoon below. My friends had already moved aside, wading through the chest-high water toward shore.

“Seems like I’m spending an awful lot of time in this darn lagoon, considering I haven’t even had a chance to unpack my bathing suit yet,” I muttered. Then, taking a deep breath, I launched myself through the window.

“Butch!” Madge howled. “What are you doing? Get closer! We’re going to want as much footage as we can get of this!” She stabbed one manicured finger toward someone. “You!” she barked. “Get those three looking camera-ready. What are you waiting for?”

I closed my eyes as Lainie, the makeup girl, hurried over, makeup brush in hand. My head was spinning after all that had happened; I hadn’t had a moment to process things since splashing down in the lagoon. Thanks to Bess and the tiny multi-tool on the key ring hanging from her wallet, we’d escaped through that window just in the nick of time. Even as the three of us were wading toward the small crowd waiting for us on the beach, the roof had gone up with a loud WHOOOMP, raining sparks over us.

Now, nearly half an hour later, the fire was out — thanks to its position over the lagoon, the employees had been able to get things under control well before the local fire brigade had arrived to finish the job. The firefighters were currently stomping around through the shallow water checking for stray sparks or whatever, while most of the staff of the resort was gathered on the beach nearby watching. The honeymoon bungalow was nothing but a pile of ashes, and several sections of the walkway nearby had been destroyed as well. But the fire hadn’t spread to any of the other structures, and for that, the resort manager appeared to be grateful.

However, one person was acting anything but grateful. Madge seemed to take it as a personal affront that the cameras hadn’t been there to capture the dramatic moment when the bungalow had gone up in flames. She was making up for it now, ordering the entire camera team around without seeming to pause for breath.

“Chill, dude,” Bo told the assistant director as she started haranguing one of the sound people for something or other. “You already missed the fun stuff. So what’s the hurry?”

I cracked one eye open just in time to see Madge glare at him. “Do you want to take over?” she snapped. “Because my job’s not as easy as you all seem to think.”

Bo rolled his eyes and glanced over at Jamal and Akinyi, who had also turned up to watch. They both shrugged, seeming disinclined to get involved.

I kept my one open eye trained on the couple. How quickly had they turned up at the scene of the fire? I wasn’t sure, but I knew they’d arrived before Madge and the crew. Did that mean something? I wasn’t sure.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I opened my other eye as I felt Lainie begin to apply something thick and dusty to my forehead.

“Sorry. Madge’s orders.” Lainie held up a makeup brush with black powder flaking off it. “She wants to make sure you guys look really dramatic, so she ordered me to add some sooty smudges to your face.” Shooting a slightly nervous look over her shoulder, she added, “And it’s never a good idea to ignore Madge’s orders, if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you’re scared of her, but I’m not.” Brushing aside the makeup brush, I took a step toward Madge. “Look, I think that’s enough of the filming, okay?” I said loudly, putting up my hand to block the lens of the closest camera. “My friends and I just want to get back to our bungalow and clean ourselves up.”

“Nancy’s right,” George agreed, shooing away another makeup artist. “We’re out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” Madge scowled at both of us. “You signed the releases. And this is a reality show — we’re just filming what happened.”

“Oh, really?” Bess spoke up. “So it’s reality when you want me to rip a sleeve off my favorite shirt just because you say it’ll make good TV?”

Madge just sputtered for a moment, looking even more irate than usual. “Cut!” she spat out at last, spinning toward the cameras and making a choppy slashing movement across her own throat with one thin hand. “Turn them off!”

“That’s more like —” I began, ready to appease her a bit if necessary.

Before I could finish, she spun back around to face me and my friends, her eyes all but shooting sparks. “That’s enough!” she hissed. “I should have known you three were only here to cause trouble. What’s your angle? Let me guess — you’re actually plants from Winners and Losers, right?”

“Huh?” I goggled at her, taken aback.

“ Winners and Losers is another reality show,” George said with a frown. “It’s Daredevils’ s biggest ratings rival, actually.”

“That’s right.” Madge crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “And if you think you’re going to sabotage this production, you’ve got another thing coming! I had enough of that back on the mainland, and now that I’m in charge, I’m going to make sure you don’t cause any more trouble, do you hear me?”

Wait — so Madge thought we were the saboteurs? I was so stunned I could barely react.

“Madge!” Donald rushed up at that moment, breathless and red-faced. “There you are!” He stopped short, taking in the sight of the burned bungalow. “Hey, what happened?”

“What do you want?” Madge snapped, rounding on him with a glare. “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

Donald took a half step backward. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “You told me to let you know if Vic or Sydney turned up, and I wanted to let you know I just spotted Vic heading toward the snack bar.”

Madge was silent for a second, glowering at him, then at us. Finally she shrugged. “Fine,” she snapped out. “Come on, guys. Let’s go film Vic eating his cheeseburger or whatever. Might be boring, but I’m not about to give Winners and Losers any more free publicity for their sick little game.”

With one last snarl in our general direction, she stalked off. The camera operators exchanged glances and shrugs, then followed. Donald shot one last confused look at the charred remains of the honeymoon bungalow and trailed after them.

“Whew!” George breathed out, shaking her head slowly as she watched them all disappear. “That was… interesting.”

“Yeah.” I drifted a few steps in the direction Madge and Co. had gone, my mind churning. Could the assistant director really think my friends and I were the saboteurs? Or was this some kind of ruse, a distraction to keep us from suspecting her?

Before I could reach any conclusions, a bit of conversation drifted my way from nearby. Two young women wearing maids’ uniforms were standing on the beach a few feet away, staring out at the scene of the fire. “…so it looks like we wasted our time getting Suite 1 fixed up so fast, didn’t we?” one of the maids griped.

“Don’t complain,” the second employee said. “We got paid overtime for it, remember?”

I hurried toward them. “Excuse me,” I said with a friendly smile. “So you two helped with the cleanup after the vandalism, huh? I guess you must have gotten a good look at that message someone wrote on the wall in there, right?”

The two employees went silent, trading a cautious glance and then shrugging in unison. “We’re sorry for this unpleasant moment in your Oro Beach Resort experience,” the second maid said, sounding like some kind of recording. “We hope it won’t mar your enjoyment of our beautiful island.”

“Okay,” I said. “But listen, I’d really like to know exactly what you guys saw before the cleanup. If you could just describe it in your own words…”

“I’m afraid we have to be getting back to work now,” the employee said in that same robot-cruise-director voice. “If you have questions about your Oro Beach experience, feel free to visit our guest courtesy center in the main tiki hut.”

“I don’t want to visit the courtesy center,” I said, doing my best not to sound as impatient as I felt. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bess and George trading amused glances. “I just want to hear what you two saw. If you’re worried about marring my enjoyment or whatever, don’t be. Sydney already showed me a picture of that ransacked cabin.” I smiled hopefully. “Plus I won’t tell your boss you said a word, I swear.”

“It’s not that.” This time it was the first maid who spoke. She shot a look at her coworker, who looked worried. “I mean, yeah, the resort doesn’t like us talking to the guests about stuff like that, I guess.” She shrugged. “Not that we’ve ever had stuff like that happen before…”

“It’s that director woman,” the other maid burst out. “She made us sign something.”

“You mean Madge?” George spoke up, sounding interested. “What, you mean like a film release?”

“Well, that, too.” The first maid shrugged again. “But also this thing about not talking to people. Basically we’re under orders not to say anything to anyone about anything that happens while filming is going on.”

“Right.” The second maid tugged at her friend’s sleeve, shooting a nervous glance around the beach. “Now we really do have to get back to work. Excuse us, please.”

They hurried off without a backward glance. “Wow,” Bess said. “That’s interesting, huh?”

“Not really.” George fell into step beside me as I wandered down the beach after the maids. “It’s probably standard operating procedure for this sort of production. A way to guarantee that spoilers don’t leak out before the show airs, stuff like that. I’ll have to ask my mom, but I’d be willing to guess that she had to sign something similar when she was catering some of those events before the wedding.”

“That makes sense.” Bess nodded. “Besides, Madge just accused the three of us of being behind all the trouble. That seems to let her off as a suspect herself, right?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “I’m really not sure what to make of Madge, actually. But guilty or not, one thing’s for sure. She’s definitely making our job harder. How are we supposed to investigate when the entire resort staff is under orders not to talk to anyone?”

“Maybe we should go talk to the people at the med hut again,” George said as we climbed a few wooden steps leading from the beach up to the main section of the resort. “They were willing to talk. Although I kind of got the impression that they don’t leave the med hut much. They kept complaining about it, actually —”

“Hey, do you hear that?” Bess broke in, casting a glance off to the right.

“Hear what?” But even as I said it, I heard the sound of shouts and shrieks from somewhere over that way.

George glanced at the rustic wooden signs that marked an intersection of paths just ahead. “Must be coming from the main pool,” she said. “Should we go check it out? We haven’t been over there yet.”

“Yes we have,” Bess said. “We passed it when we first got here, remember? Just before we saw Akinyi doing that modeling shoot.”

George shook her head. “Didn’t you read those brochures I printed off the Internet before we came?” she asked. “There are at least three pools here. That smallish one by the shops is called, like, the spa pool or something. Then there’s the main pool over here, which is much bigger. And I’m pretty sure there’s a lap pool over near the gym too.”

While she was talking, we were hurrying along the path toward the main pool. We emerged from between two buildings to a panoramic view of it.

The pool was just what you’d expect to find in a tropical paradise. It was free-form and huge, with a couple of picturesque bridges leading over some narrow parts, a swim-up bar, several diving platforms, and at least three separate waterfall areas. The largest of the waterfalls tumbled down an impressive thirty-foot mountain of boulders that rose along the deep end of the largest section of the pool.

“Wow,” Bess said. “This is nice!”

I nodded, glancing around the pool area. The yells appeared to have come from Vic, Bo, and Jamal, who were clowning around on the pavement at the base of the stone waterfall while Akinyi watched from a nearby lounge chair. All of the cameramen were there filming away from various angles. Madge, Donald, and Lainie, along with a few other assorted crew members, were looking on from just out of camera range.

None of them seemed to notice our arrival. As we watched, Vic danced over toward Akinyi. “Be a sport, Kinnie!” he exclaimed with a wicked grin, advancing on her as she glanced up from the magazine she was reading. “Either come on in for a swim, or I’ll have to make you come in!”

“Don’t you dare!” Akinyi warned with a frown, holding up one long, slim finger and shaking it at him sternly. “I just did my hair. If you mess it up, I’ll kill you!”

Vic pretended to cower away while Jamal snorted with amusement. Meanwhile Bo let out a shout of laughter. “Hey, if she won’t take a dip with us, we’ll just have to find another pretty girl who will! And look, there’s one right over there!” He leaped toward Lainie. “How about it? Want to get wet, darlin’?”

Vic, Jamal, and even Akinyi were already chuckling. But Lainie immediately jumped back, avoiding Bo as he reached for her arm. “No!” she cried.

“Guess she’s not supposed to let herself be seen on camera,” Bess murmured.

George shrugged. “Doesn’t look like the camera guys are following that rule,” she observed. “See? They’re shooting all this — well, except for that Butch guy — and Madge isn’t complaining.”

I saw that she was right. Butch seemed to be taking a break — he was over in the shade of a beach umbrella sipping a bottle of water and talking with Donald — but the other camera operators were all focused right in on Lainie and Bo. Madge was watching the whole scene with her usual hawklike intensity, not saying a word.

“Good point.” I frowned slightly as I returned my attention to Lainie, whose protests were getting louder and more panicky-sounding with each new lunge out of Bo’s grasp. “And actually, she looks pretty upset. For real, I mean, not just flirty-upset.”

Bess nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Well, you are the expert when it comes to flirting, cuz,” George joked.

“Please!” Lainie cried loudly at that moment, once more wriggling free as Bo grabbed at her arm. “Leave me alone!” Whirling around, she raced around the edge of the pool and disappeared into a grove of palm trees, looking near tears.

“Lainie?” Bo called after her, sounding confused. Then he turned and shrugged at his friends. “Dude! What was that all about? I was just kidding around.”

“Maybe she can’t swim,” Jamal suggested.

“Yeah. Or maybe she just didn’t want you to touch her — couldn’t blame her for that.” Vic grinned as Bo pretended to take a swing at him. “Never mind, looks like it’s just us guys. Last one in’s a rotten egg!”

Letting out a whoop, he raced over and flung himself into the deep end, landing in a sloppy cannonball with a loud splash. Both of the other guys followed, hitting the water at the same time. Soon all three of them were bobbing around out there. Vic floated on his back, closing his eyes as he drifted under the edge of the waterfall.

Meanwhile Butch had finished his break and was now filming away with the others. “You’re not giving us much here, guys,” he called out in his usual gruff way. “How’s about doing something we couldn’t film at any kiddie pool in the world?”

“Like what?” Vic flipped over and started treading water. “You want me to ride a Jet Ski through here or something?”

Butch let out a snort. “Look, I’m just saying. We only have a week on this boring little island, and your girl seems to be in hiding, and Eberhart’ll flip if we don’t get anything he can use.”

“Yeah, he’s right about that,” Madge muttered. “Where is that Sydney, anyway?”

“So what did you have in mind, bro?” Vic asked Butch loudly. I could tell he was deliberately ignoring the question about Sydney’s whereabouts. “I mean, this is a pool, not a stunt show.”

“Look, I dunno. I’m no director.” Butch shot a look at the thirty-foot rock mountain. “You could climb up there and dive in or something. Even that’d be more Daredevils than floating around like a bunch of old ladies.”

Vic cast a lazy glance up at the wall. Then he turned over on his back again, not rising to the cameraman’s taunt.

“Maybe later,” he said with a yawn. “It’s been a long week, you know?”

Butch scowled. “Gonna be a lot of long weeks if you actually land the cohosting gig next season, boy,” he muttered.

“Whatever.” Vic yawned, then glanced over at Bo. “How about if Captain Champion here goes first? I dare you, dude.”

Bo squinted up the mountain too. “I dunno,” he said. “Looks like a tough climb, and I’m in relaxation mode right now, you know?”

Just then I caught a flash of movement at the edge of the palm grove. Glancing over, I saw that Lainie had just crept back into the pool area, looking slightly sheepish.

Bo spotted her too. “On the other hand, what the heck,” he said, already swimming for the edge. “Anything to liven up this dead party, huh?”

He hoisted himself out of the pool, strutting and thumping his chest as he headed for the base of the man-made mountain. Soon he was clambering up, still shouting and showing off as usual.

“There you go,” Vic told Butch. “Happy now?”

Butch just shrugged, turning his camera to follow Bo. One of the other cameramen came over for a better angle too.

“Men!” Bess shook her head, looking amused. “They’ll do anything to impress a pretty girl.”

I chuckled. “Should we go check on Sydney?” I asked. “It seems like a good time to sneak over to Akinyi’s cabin, with all the other major players occupied here.”

“Sure.” George shaded her eyes as she followed Bo’s climb. “But wait, let’s watch Bo jump first. I want to see if he lands on Vic or Jamal on his way down. That would be totally Daredevils. ”

Bo reached the top and raised both arms over his head. “I’m king of the world, baby!” he howled playfully, striding out toward a slab of stone overhanging the top of the waterfall. “I’m king of the — oof! ”

The rock suddenly shifted with a sickening scraping sound. A second later it collapsed sideways, sending Bo tumbling head over heels, banging and crashing down the face of the rock wall.

Дата добавления: 2017-01-14