Charles took Hector's arm and steered him around the corner out into the alley behind the resort offices. Hector stood hunched as his superior tore a long large chunk off of him finishing with a demand for accountability of his time while he was away.

"I was here, Charles. I was doing what I always do!"

"What about last night when that drunk had to be escorted home?"

"I- uh, I was doing rounds . . . up at the suites."

"I was up there as well, Hector. I didn't see you anywhere."

"Well I did the villas first . . ." His body twanged like a taught wire with each pretense.

"I have a reliable report that you were mingling with certain of the guests while I was away."

"Who-? That's not true, Charles, believe me. Of course I talk to the guests, I can't be rude and ignore questions and greetings."

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "If I catch you practicing any of your old tricks here, Hector, I will personally feed you into the eager clutches of Captain Warez and trust me, you will never prove you weren't guilty of something. Do you understand me?"

"Yes! Yes, but I have done nothing, Charles." His shoulder was aching terribly and he began ducking away.

"See that you don't." Charles gave a final crushing squeeze and left Hector sweating bullets and wondering if Glenda Weiss could possibly be convinced to support him in his story.

********

Miller pointedly ignored Billy and made his way down to the lower lobby where he ordered a fruit drink and took it to a chair in the corner. He had listened to some of the other interviews and was miffed over the fact that he seemed to be getting the most attention. Fortunately Billy had supported his story and when asked why she went after him on the dock she had simply stated that it was the resort policy to be concerned over all the guests. Carlos beamed. Warez frowned.

"You shouldn't antagonize the police, Miller. Down here they can be very officious and dangerous." Billy flopped down opposite him and crossed her legs comfortably.

"Really." He replied without interest.

"Yes, really. Captain Warez is a little martinet who won't hesitate to take any opportunity to bully gringos."

"So now I've gone from guest to second class visitor to suspect and now gringo?" He stirred his drink with the straw.

"Winston Graves didn't just die, Miller . . . he was murdered."

Miller's ears filled with a dulling silence and he stopped breathing for a moment, absorbing her words. A kaleidoscope of his actions and comments whizzed past his mind's eye and he wet his lips, sitting forward. "Murdered? He never said that!"

"I left him in here last night after he'd had a clash with one of the waiters. Security took him to his bungalow and this morning he was found by another employee,on the beach partially dressed. His head had been bashed in."

"Jesus! Who- why?"

"I believe that's pronounced, hooray." She sighed and looked away, seemingly bored with the entire concept.

"Are you kidding me? You just told me your date was murdered and you're making jokes?"

"Do you care? Are you really upset about his death?"

"The fact that it was murder . . . yes." He put his glass down and fidgeted on the chair. "Did Warez say what he thought happened, or are we all guilty?"

"Oh he thinks I'm guilty as sin . . . along with the waiter, my father and even the maintenance worker that discovered the body. He doesn't really give a damn as long as he arrests somebody. And no, he didn't offer an opinion other than to say it was a brutal attack with a blunt object."

"Well this just might be good time to check out then."

"Bad idea, Miller. You'd be tossed in some calaboose and the door key melted down for the nail in your casket." She rose from the chair and his eyes followed. "Want to go for a walk?"

"No. I want to go back to my room and back to bed. Start the whole nightmare week over. Or better still, forget it all together."

"Bed sounds good." She swished out of the lobby through one of the arches and left him blinking stupidly.

******

What had he imagined? That she was suggesting they go to his room after he mentioned bed? He sat on the balcony, feet on the railing and a cold bottle of cerveza propped on his stomach. The fact that he hadn't even finished his breakfast didn't interfere with his having an early in the day drink. He stared across the brilliant water, watching the small boats appear and disappear like tiny black floaters in the eye. What an idiot, he berated himself, even dreaming of such a thing.

Billy had laughed aloud when he took the turn to the lighthouse and he had questioned her when she didn't follow. Some holiday, a second-class guest, and a joke to the woman he'd found filling his every thought, and now public gringo number one in Captain Warez's book of murder.

Murder! That was not a joke.

The rest of the day came and went without memory. Miller wandered down to Divers restaurant and had a late lunch large enough for a dinner. There was an argument going on about a missing oar and he snickered; they should have his troubles. With another six-pack of cerveza and a box of take-out snacks from the outdoor food cart, he returned to the lighthouse and wasted the rest of the evening nibbling, drinking and feeling very sorry for himself.

The Mexican police had been all over the grounds like ants and he thought about maybe needing another alibi since he was alone again. He stood and waved to a pair that were looking around in the bushes below his, unique accommodation. They just stared through their aviator glasses at him and moved on.

******

Gary had been dressed and sitting in front of his TV when Shelia returned from meeting Graves. He noticed she had gone to her room and changed for some reason and her appearance had made him more curious than concerned. The fact that she had dressed had removed some of the promise out of the rest of their night. Her story was that Winston had shown up drunk, had become abusive and that they argued then she went to her room and changed because her dress got torn on the bench at the Dive Shop.

His only concern was had she learned anything new about his investment or did she listened to the same old saw about dividend cheques and that Winston had been too drunk to say anything regardless. They had both agreed that the interest in their earlier lovemaking was gone and Shelia returned to her room while it was still dark.

Gary's concern turned to his own interview with the police.

********

Winston's attack had left Shelia more angry than frightened because she knew he was drunk at the time; they had shared some pretty rough sex in their past relationship so it hadn't been too big a shock. The smack on her face though had left an acute taste for retribution. She called his room with the intention of getting an apology and failing that, setting him straight on their new association, which would be business only.

When there was no answer she figured he was still on the beach or back home and passed out. She got herself ready for bed.

Day 5

Shelia's new day had started very early, like the previous one. Unable to sleep after her late night and the vicious encounter with a drunken Winston, thoughtful consideration of the evening's events caused her to re-evaluate her decision to having partnered with a man that was turning out to be a demanding monster. Nevertheless, being this close to the end of their gambit she wasn't about to pass up the financial gains and was committed to seeing that end fulfilled.

After another fruitless call to his room she showered and dressed and decided on walking back down to the beach just in case he'd crawled under some shelter and was still there . . . hung over and desolate. That would be the crowning humiliation for Winston Graves and a huge black eye for their corporation if one of the guests found him like that.

The sun was just awakening and the shadows turning from black to grey. Shelia chose a trail away from the regular walkways that took a wider route but at least provided some shade and privacy. She stepped carefully over roots and dead branches and as she stopped to pull an errant twig from her sandal she heard a noise behind.

There were many different animals present on the resort grounds and a few snakes and she shivered as she listened, holding her breath. Nothing. She tossed the twig aside and continued down the path. A moment later she heard the noise again-louder, and turning she found herself faced with a large figure holding a long pole of some kind.

"Who? What are you-?"

The figure came toward her and she began stumbling wildly down the path. Shrubs tore at her legs and clothing and she fell several times, breaking nails and cutting hands, aware of the sound of steps close behind. Her breath came in ragged gasps and when she tried to shout it seized in her throat. She took a sharp turn in the path and fell into a small yucca plant, seriously gashing her arm as she did. The steps halted and she looked up. The ascending sun was behind the black silhouette looming over her and she tried to shade her eyes.

"This is a mistake! Who are you?" She blinked as the dark shape raised the pole high in the air and as she started to scream it struck her on the forehead, splitting it open and sending her back into the plants. The last sensation was her back scraping on the rough ground and then nothing.

********

His rooster friend sounded off on time but it wasn't enough to force Miller to get up and moving. The night had sped by because he'd been alone and fallen asleep in front of his mini TV and now instead of breakfast he was cheating, drinking beer with crackers as a supplement. The beer left a cold trail down his gullet making him shiver in spite of the growing heat of the sun creeping along the balcony.

He saw that he would be in shade so picking up his chair, he carried it around to the other side so he could look over the hill above the resort where the suites were and the screaming colour of all the flora. Settling down again he thought back over the police interview the previous day and it left a bad taste. The whole vacation was becoming a bad taste, Billy notwithstanding.

He propped his feet up again and sighted between them at the short stretch of path he was able to pick out among the vegetation. He closed one eye and then switched to the other, faster and faster, making the image of the path jump back and forth as if animated. Suddenly he stopped as something appeared on the edge of the path and he sat up, squinting. The sun was casting a battalion of shadows throughout the dense bush and he couldn't be certain if it was a mind trick or something real.

It had looked like an animal; at least that was the impression he accepted and he ran inside for his binoculars. When he got back he couldn't see it and he swore aloud, scanning the area all around the path. Something! He focused the lens and tried to keep his hands from shaking, finally sitting down and resting them on the railing to steady the image. Was it a man, in a dark shirt and light coloured pants? He couldn't really tell. Maybe it was an animal. It could be a plant. It was only a blink and it was gone.

The shadows had shifted. Miller probed the bushes at the edge of the path, catching a brief flash of something white and what might be a bag or something cloth. He concentrated hard but whatever he'd thought he'd seen was gone, if he really had even seen anything. He checked his watch, deciding on some lunch since the beer and crackers hadn't really been satisfactory, and now that his blood was moving maybe wandering over to the area he'd been studying would provide some interest . . . just out of curiosity.

What had appeared fairly close and uncomplicated from his balcony turned into a trek of demanding proportions. The brightly coloured plants that suggested an Eden-like paradise became viciously sharp and almost indestructible as he stomped his way through the dense growth. He already had one scab on his leg from the resort flora.

The path was not really a path at all but more an animal track that tunneled through the tangle, appearing only sporadically into the open-one of the areas Miller had spotted. Apparently it began at the beach and wound its way up to the walkways leading to the suites. He assumed it was a shortcut used by the staff.

He located his balcony and tried to ascertain the location he'd been watching, pushing a little further along the trail until it broke into a small clearing. Miller froze in his tracks. There were drag marks on the soft dirt and the leg he could see jutting out from under the broad leaf of a thick plant was a woman's and it was bent at a very unnatural angle.