Room with a View

Chapter 15 - A Bad Idea

When Miller finished trying to pry Billy's whereabouts from him, Mendoza offered to make him a drink. His nerves were strumming like the resort's guitars and after having been grilled about one death already, he was scared stiff to have discovered another.

"You will find it relaxing, senor. All this stress about Senor Graves and your room . . . you should have a drink."

"I don't want a drink. I want to find Billy. My stress is just beginning."

The big bartender sighed, rustling the fronds along the edge of the bar, and leaned his massive hands on the counter in front of Miller. "I can get in a lot of trouble, Senor Hunt."

"I won't say you told me."

"She'll know."

"Please, Mendoza, it's important . . . really important."

He waded through the warm sand to the stretch of beach beyond the dive rental shop. A cluster of six brightly coloured cabanas, all doors closed, faced the water and Miller rapped on each as he passed. The door to the last cabana was ajar and he paused, getting his story organized before rapping on the bamboo panel.

"If that's my order you can bring it in. If it isn't you'd better be gone before I get to the door." Billy's voice sounded serious but not terribly convincing. Miller went inside. It was stinking hot.

"Well haven't you got the brassiest set!" Billy sat up on her lounge and grabbed a towel to cover her nakedness. Miller spun around and groped for the door, shouting apologies. "It's too late now, Miller. You might as well come back."

"You said to come in!" He backed into the small shelter and twisted his head around carefully. Billy was tucking the towel around her chest and he breathed a sigh only to find that it only came to the top of her thighs and while she stood it was fine but she started to sit again and he turned away again.

"Grow up, Miller." She arranged herself on the lounge and he was told to sit on the floor. "Now your precious sensibilities are safe." She huffed. "What are you doing here? And it better be good or Mendoza is going to hear about it."

He could feel the heat on his face and it angered him to think he felt like a teenager around her. "If I'm such a childish prude why did you grab the towel," he complained. "You don't hide from the staff?"

"You have to have lived here for a while to understand, Miller."

"Oh, so you just choose to embarrass the hell out of me. That seems to be everybody's goal around here?"

"Do you want me to take it off? Would that make your self-pity more bearable?"

He stared at her without answering and was pleased to see her own cheeks flush pink.

"Maybe another time," he said cavalierly and her eyes widened. "I need to tell you something, something very serious."

She bobbed her head. "More serious than this affront to your dignity?"

"Billy . . . can we forget this? It started because I was surprised. I apologize, okay? I really need to talk to you."

"So?"

Miller told her what he had found, how and where and was scared to death about reporting it. "Who'd believe that?" he asked.

"Certainly not Warez." She stood again and turned around, letting the towel drop, pulling on a t-shirt and stepping into her shorts. Miller took in the whole act with rapt attention. Her bottom had suddenly become the center of his universe and he was stunned into silence. She looked down at him. "Show me the body."