“I’m not sure. Like I said, she’s hiding something.”
“You’re imagining it.”
She leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed her robe off the floor. She shoved her arms into the sleeves, pulling it around her.
“Why’d you do that?”
She blew me a kiss. “Because you’re not paying attention to what I’m saying.”
“I was paying a lot of attention.”
“To the wrong thing.”
“Things.” I grinned at her, but she kept her face all serious.
She tied the sash around her waist. “See if you can find out who she’s texting.”
“How would I do that? And besides, people text their friends. She just left on vacation. Maybe she’s telling people they got here without any issues. Maybe she’s telling them about their new friends.”
“Whoever she was chatting with, she didn’t want anyone to know. And she got two calls that she declined.”
“You’re so good at making up mysteries.”
She crawled across the bed and kissed my nose. “Do you want a chance for more than just a nice vacation and some pricey electronics and jewelry? Then pay attention.”
“Pay attention to what?”
“I’m trying to help our situation here, Joe. You asked what I thought about them so far, and I think she’s up to something. Maybe it’s nothing important, but we should find out.”
She kissed me again, on the mouth this time, but she didn’t stay long. She slid off the bed and walked into the bathroom. A minute later I heard the water in the shower. I tried to take another catnap, but it didn’t work. She’d got my head spinning around her suspicious ideas. But I was probably right. She was imagining things. She did that a lot. Yeah, she was good at seeing through people and good at figuring out what they wanted and how to get them liking her, trusting her, but sometimes she acted like she could read their minds. There was no way she could do that.
By the time I finished my shower, she’d already made our bed and left the room. I found her on the back deck with Brad, drinking coffee. Maggie was in the kitchen cutting up fruit. I asked Maggie if I could help her out and she was fine with it, so I was pretty sure Skye was making shit up. Maggie was going on about fruit and how she loved the lake in the morning, talking about how she wanted to lay on the beach all day. She didn’t look at her phone once the whole time I was in there.
After the fruit and bacon and scrambled eggs had settled, we went for a hike. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but I did what was necessary. I’d been looking forward to some day-drinking in the sun and laying around in the sand and watching the two women in their bikinis. Hiking seemed like a lot of work, and Brad and Maggie were very serious about it. No one talked much and we had to walk single file.
After lunch, I got what I wanted. Brad made margaritas and we dragged chairs and towels out to the beach. He put up two umbrellas so we didn’t burn, but I moved my chair to the edge where I was mostly in the sun. I wanted the heat and the alcohol to numb my brain.
We stared at the water, not talking much.
Brad finished his drink first. He stood and looked down at us. “I thought we’d take the boat out tomorrow night. The lake is spectacular at night. So quiet, and the constellations are more defined when you’re out on the water.”
“That sounds cool,” Skye said.
“I need to check it out. We haven’t used it since last September.” He pulled on a T-shirt, smashed his hat back on his head, and picked up his shoes. He walked to the dock, brushed the sand off his feet, shoved the shoes on, and a minute later he’d disappeared inside the boat. I settled back and closed my eyes.
Skye and Maggie were talking about clothes. Mostly, Skye was talking. I thought about nothing except the sun on my skin. I wouldn’t mind having a tan like our new friends. I wouldn’t mind living near a lake all the time. I definitely wouldn’t mind having a boat. I opened my eyes and saw Brad walking around it, moving ropes, hosing down the deck and cleaning the windows.
A few minutes later Skye stood. She handed her glass to me. “I’ll see if I can help with the boat.”
“Help what? You don’t know shit about boats.”
She shrugged. She turned and jogged to the dock, took the two steps up, and walked slowly toward the boat that was tied on the left side about thirty feet from shore. I heard her talking to Brad but couldn’t catch what they were saying.
“Want another drink?”
“Sure.” Maggie held out her glass and I took it from her hand.
When I returned a few minutes later with two margaritas, she looked like she hadn’t moved. Her arms were kind of limp beside her, the tips of her fingers touching the edge of her phone, as if she needed to be sure it was right where she could find it at all times.
I held out the fresh drink. “Just what you ordered.”
She took the glass in her left hand, leaving her right hand close to the phone. “Thanks.”
I put my glass in the sand, wedging it in place so it wouldn’t tip, and pulled my chair under the umbrella. The breeze had died and it was getting too hot. I sat down, picked up my drink, and took a long, icy swallow.
A few minutes later, Maggie’s phone vibrated. She picked it up and looked at the screen. She put it face down on her lotion-covered stomach, which didn’t seem like a great idea, but maybe the lotion had all soaked in by then. She put her hand over the top edge of her sunglasses and looked toward the boat. A minute later, she shoved herself out of her chair. After two quick sips of her drink, she stuck it in the sand.
I stared at her legs, smooth and muscled, letting my attention move up to her hips. She couldn’t see where I was looking with my sunglasses on, but she must have known because she grabbed her sarong and wrapped it around her waist. “Be right back.” She walked toward the house, moving faster once she was off the sand and walking on the soft grass that came right up to the edge of the beach.
I gave her five or six minutes, then I followed her.
Inside, the house was silent. I stood for a minute in the living room, trying to pick up the sound of her voice. It was a big place, so that didn’t mean she wasn’t talking on the phone. It was possible she was texting, but she could have done that on the beach. I was pretty sure the vibrating I heard was a phone call, not a bunch of messages.
I glanced up the open stairs that went up from the area behind the living room to the master bedroom, a lounge, and balcony on the second floor. Going upstairs would make it hard to explain why I was there if she saw me. I figured there was a chance she didn’t need to go upstairs for a private conversation. Not with all of us on the beach.
I crossed the living room and went down the hallway that led to the room where Skye and I were staying. As I moved quietly toward the other rooms, I heard Maggie’s voice. I stopped and took a few quiet steps closer. There were two more bedrooms and the game room past ours.
Moving slowly, I pressed myself up against the wall and took soft steps closer to the room where her voice was coming from. A few feet before I reached the door, I stopped.
“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie said.
This was followed by silence. I heard her make a few sounds, like she wanted to interrupt but wasn’t getting a chance.