Killer Summer

29

The persistent squeak of the room-service cart’s errant wheel created a counterpoint rhythm to the whoosh of Kevin’s rubber soles on the hotel hallway’s carpet. A good-looking woman in her thirties, with wet hair and pool water clinging to her tan skin like pearls, strode toward him in a tiny bikini.

“Down, boy,” came a girl’s voice over Kevin’s shoulder. He slowed the cart. The woman passed by, offering him a sideways glance that told him she’d caught him staring and that she enjoyed the attention.

“Get a room, why don’t you?” Summer said.

“What’s up?” he said, trying to act casual.

“I have an answer to that, but it’s too dirty to say in a hotel hallway. Dude, she’s ancient. Give it a rest.”

Kevin pushed the trolley forward. “I’ve got to deliver this,” he said.

“We’re still on for tonight?” she asked, walking side by side with him. She showed him the key to the jet. “Fifteen minutes. Right?”

“I’m off at seven,” he confirmed. “But I owe a friend big-time.”

“Where do we meet? I’ll have a bag with me and don’t want to drag it all over the place.”

“A bag? What’s with that?”

“It’s just clothes and stuff. No big deal.”

“I don’t know about this,” he said.

“Are you kidding? I am, like, totally looking forward to this,” she said. “It is so boring here. You don’t even know how much fun you’re going to have. You thought the hot springs were fun?” She took a step closer. “You don’t have a clue, do you?” she said in a raspy voice. She’d seen her mother tease her father this same way.

“Yeah?”

“I told you, you can sit up front,” she reminded. “It’ll be so awesome.”

He glanced over at her, and she offered him as much reassurance as she could muster.

“Yeah, I guess.”

She relaxed. “Awesome. So where do you want to pick me up?”

They made arrangements to meet in back of the hotel a few minutes past seven.

Her plan saved, her face brightened. She kissed him on the cheek, the same way her mother would her dad when she got her way. Kevin flushed and looked away.

“You’re running away, aren’t you?” he said, speaking down to the cart.

Her brain seized.

“What happens to me when it turns out I’m the one who drove you, huh? Have you even thought about that? I’ll bet you have. And I’ll bet you don’t give a crap, do you, because you’ll be long gone?”

“I’m eighteen, Kevin. I can do what I want.”

“Nice try,” he said. “I’m the one who’s eighteen. I’m the one gets in trouble for this.”

“I thought we were going to party in the jet? I promise, that’s happening. The flight I’m on is the last one out, at ten o’clock. You think I could get on a plane by myself if I wasn’t eighteen?”

“Maybe with a fake ID you could.”

“You’ve been hanging around your uncle too long, dude. This is not Without a Trace, you know?”

Kevin looked at her, remembering the hot springs.

“You never drove me down there, okay? All we’re going to do is hang in the jet until my flight, and if anyone ever asks I’ll say I took the shuttle bus, I promise.”

“So, then, why don’t you take the shuttle bus?” he asked.

“I thought we were friends,” she said, pouting and disappointed. “I thought we were going to party.”

Kevin slowed the cart and stopped in front of a room door.

“I’ve got to do this,” he said.

“Come on.” She pressed against him. “Please, Kevin… seven-ten, at the circle out back,” she said, confirming their plans. She hurried off before he had a chance to answer.