Twelve Angry Guests

Chapter 3

"Man! Your dad needs a room like this at his resort. Talk about a room with a view." Miller gazed across the water, shaking his head.

"I want to meet this Forrester character," Billy said. "I've known some rich men, but this is- this is fantasy." She held her phone up to the view.

"Wouldn't it be a gas if you did know him? I mean, you know, when you were . . . working?"

"Highly doubtful, Miller. My former clients never breathed air this thin."

"That Gretta Lawrence is something isn't she?"
"Pardon?"

"You know. Confident . . . fit . . ."

"Is this because I said the word fantasy, Miller?"

"Huh? No, no. You know what I mean. She seems- I don't have a word-"

"Good. Keep it that way." She waited until he heaved his shoulders and sat down.

"There is something about this whole set up that bothers me. I've been thinking of things we might have in common with the rest."

"And? We discussed all that." Miller shrugged.

"Not everything. The woman Mountie, that private investigator and your Gretta Lawrence for instance, all seem to share law enforcement interests."

"My Gretta Lawrence?"

Billy waved her hand. "The comic and his girlfriend, and the hotel owners. Where do they fit in?"

"How should I know?"

"Let's break it down then. Gretta and Jessica are in similar occupations." She said.

"Okay. And Desdemona and - and uhm- you - let's say entertainment."

"Let's be careful what we say, MiIler."

"We can make it, acting."

"Better."

"Okay then, and Verna and Deborah could come under hospitality."

"And the men?"

Miller pulled his lip and chewed the inside of his mouth. "Arny is in promotion. Jeff is retired. Parker is a stand-up comic. Gordon is a mayor and hotelier. Hart is a private investigator and me."

"What are you, Miller?"

"I'm uh- I'm in inventory control."

"Then say so. It's nothing to be ashamed of." She gave him a loving look and sat beside him. "What you do for a living is not who you are, Miller. You are a good man, intelligent, and with many skills and that's why I love you."

"Thanks, Billy. That means a--"

"Okay this breaks down further now. We've got Gretta, Jessica, and Hart all in law enforcement. Desdemona, me, and Parker in acting." She glanced at Miller in case he objected. "Arny and Gordon in promotion." Miller nodded. "Jeff and you."

"Uncategorized I notice."

"Well, he was in accounting, and you're in inventory control so probably the same category as Arny and Gordon. Business and finance let's say."

"So three categories, Law enforcement. Business and finance and . . . entertainment." Miller waited for the explosion that never came.

****

"What do you say, lover, want to go swimming?"

"Swimming! Geez, Gretta, no, I want to know about this Forrester character's reason for having us here."

"You'll probably find out at dinner so why worry now?"

"I'm not worried, I'm concerned."

"Don't be. Enjoy the moment. C'mon swimming with me."

"Don't you think it would be better orienting ourselves with the place in case- in case we uh . . ."

"Relax, Arny. Here, look." She opened her handbag and removed a folded paper. "I got this from the Congress before we left. It's a satellite image of the property and surrounding area. You can see all you need to see as far as ingress and egress go and since it's an island there isn't much else you need to know."

"I might have known the Congress would be involved somehow."

"They aren't, Arny. I just got the map from them. Now get your suit on and let's swim."

The water was such a perfect temperature he couldn't stop mentioning it. He swam alongside Gretta in their private water ballet until they reached the side, and then rested on the underwater seat ledge and slowly kicked their feet.

"You seemed interested in the Canadian cop today."

"I was. She worked undercover on a large emerald smuggling case that exposed some crooked police, then she took off with Jeff to the islands and has been sort of incognito since."

"More Congress snooping?"

"Forearmed, and all that, lover."

"Don't you trust her?"

"More than I did when I first saw her name on the invite. She's a very competent cop."

"Think she has a scoop on you?"

"If I was her I would."

"What about the others? The one's not included in your thumbnail."

She smiled. "All very capable people. Each couple has gone through a very dangerous event in their lives, and come out winners."

"Winners."

"More important, survivors."

"Survivors."

"Yep. Just like you, lover." She put her hand on his head and shoved him under, then kicked off at racing speed for the opposite end of the pool.

****

"I feel out of place with these people, Parker. I don't see what we have in common at all."

"Don't be silly, Des. You're unique . . . like everyone else."

"It isn't funny. I feel- I don't know- inadequate."

"That's crap. You are a professional dancer in Broadway productions!"

"Singular, Parker. Production, one. And before that a pole dancer in a seedy roadhouse."

"It's where we met."

"Isn't it romantic . . ."

"C'mon, Des, that inadequate bit is nonsense. Hell, Verna's a waitress and Deborah . . . what the heck is Deborah?"

"She and Gordon own a hotel."

"Oh, right. A small hotel. She probably does maid service."

"Still more respectable than pole dancing."

"Oh, sorry, did I roll my eyes out loud."

"It's true!

"It's crap. You are every bit the woman any of these others are . . . although that Lawrence dame-"

"Parker!"

"Let's take a stroll and check the place out. You're just tired from the flight and everything. Tonight at dinner you'll see. Des Jones can hold her own with the best of them."

"That's because nobody else wants to."

"You have to stop reading my serviettes."