The Cool Cottontail

chapter 1

Forrest Nunn was awake before the hands of his electric alarm had reached quarter to eight. He pushed down the plunger that would silence the bell and allowed himself a minute or two of total luxury in his warm bed. Then, feeling a little guilty that his wife was up before him, he pushed the bedclothes aside and swung himself to his feet. For a moment he rubbed the palms of his hands across his face to rouse himself further, and then stepped into the bathroom.

At forty-six he did not look his age by a good ten years. His bare body was comfortably on the lean side, well muscled, and deeply tanned. There was no break in its sun-deepened tone below his waist; he was uniformly darkened all over except for the undersides of his arms where the skin color was visibly lighter. He brushed his teeth, shaved, and then stepped under a stinging shower. He was toweling himself when he detected the welcome aroma of frying bacon and caught the sounds of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen of the converted farmhouse.

Quickly he ran a comb through his wet thick hair, pushed his feet into a pair of well-used leather sandals, and, otherwise entirely nude, walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.

He was halfway there when he met his older daughter. She was a buoyant eighteen, at the mid-point between adolescence and womanhood, pretty by any standard and beautiful by some. Her hair, worn loose about her face, set off the wide spacing of her blue eyes, which were her best feature. Her body was near perfection, still that of a girl in outline, but with the depth and symmetry of fast-approaching full maturity. She was wearing nothing, and even in the restricted lighting of the hallway her young skin seemed to glow with a golden-bronze color.

“Morning, Daddy,” she said, and smiled at her father.

“Good morning, Linda.” He laid his hand on her bare shoulder for a moment; then, together, they went to the kitchen.

It was a very large room at the back of the house, with windows on three of its four sides. The morning sunlight streamed in to burn brilliant patterns on the linoleum and brighten every corner of the clean, well-scrubbed interior, which Forrest had spent long hours rebuilding to make it exactly the way his wife had wanted it to be. The many windows offered a wide view of well-maintained grounds, with the children’s playground on the left and the main parking area, which was surrounded by shrubbery, on the right. To the center, concealed by a small grove of trees and the picnic area, were the big pool, volleyball courts and other game facilities, the main sunning lawn, and the beginning of hiking trails that wound up through the foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains.

Emily Nunn, who was actually two years older than her husband, looked even younger than he did and could have passed as being in her early thirties. There was no evidence of middle-age spread in her firm slender body, which was partially concealed by the ample cooking apron she wore tied around a waist as smooth and shapely as her daughter’s. Her Swedish descent was revealed by her naturally ash-colored hair.

“Where’s George?” Forrest asked after he had come into the room. Before his wife could answer, he reached over and kissed her with gentle tenderness on the cheek.

“He just left to do the main pool,” Emily answered. “He wanted to get it finished so he could go into town later this morning. Something about the Little League finals.”

“Hank and Mary’s son is playing third base for the Tigers,” Linda added. “That makes four nudists in the series-two of ours, one from Glen Eden, and one from Olive Dell.”

As she finished, there was the sound of running bare feet and nine-year-old Carole erupted through the doorway. “I’m going to the game with George,” she announced without stopping. She hurried to the breakfast table and popped into her chair in a single continuous motion.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Forrest asked his younger daughter.

She looked at him and curled her lips in disappointment. “All right,” she said slowly, and raised her slight body from the wooden chair. As she turned to go, her father gave her a playful slap on her bare buttocks for a reminder.

“Teeth and hair brushed, and hands and face thoroughly washed,” he admonished. “No breakfast until you do-ever.”

With the appearance of utter weariness that a frustrated child can summon at an instant’s notice, Carole plodded back across the room and disappeared into the living quarters of the house.

Forrest turned again to his wife. “If the lumber gets here in time, I plan to spend most of the day on the sauna. There’s a couple with three children coming for an interview about eleven. Will you handle it for me?”

“Should I dress?” Linda asked.

Forrest nodded. “I think so; they have a sixteen-year-old son and this will be their first visit. Don’t put on a sun robe. I don’t want him to break his neck trying to look around corners.”

Linda smiled at him. “I know better than that. We’ll take care of them.”

As Emily Nunn turned back toward the range where she was preparing breakfast, her attention was caught by her son George, whom she saw emerging from the grove of trees that screened the pool area. When he started to run across the grass toward the house, she knew instantly that something was wrong. It did not need to be anything serious, but she looked quickly at her husband and silently flashed him a message.

Forrest Nunn read it correctly but did not allow himself to be unduly disturbed. George was twenty-four, but there was still a good deal of boy in him yet, and a clogged filter in the pool was about the worst to be expected.

When George came in through the outside doorway, Forrest looked at him and immediately changed his opinion. His son’s face had a mature set, with unusual tightness at the corners of his mouth. Something as minor as a mechanical problem would not cause him to look like that.

The young man crossed the room and spoke softly to his father. “Dad, can I see you for a moment?” There was urgency in his voice.

Forrest nodded and followed his son into the outside sunlight. As soon as the door had closed behind them, George turned. “Dad, there was a dead man, nude, floating in the main pool. I just pulled him out.”

“Who is it?” Forrest asked quickly.

“I don’t know him. Man of about fifty or so, floating face down. I got him out and thought of artificial respiration, but he was gone-cold as ice.”

“Go back and try to revive him anyway. You know what to do. Keep at it-he may still be alive no matter how he feels. I’ll join you as soon at I call the sheriff.”

George turned and ran back toward the trees and the pool. Almost as rapidly Forrest returned to the kitchen, threw a quick “It’s all right” to his wife, and went to the telephone. He glanced at the emergency-number list posted on the wall and then dialed swiftly. When he heard the ringing on the other end of the line, he consciously relaxed so that his voice would be normal when he spoke. “This is Forrest Nunn at Sun Valley Lodge. My son has just discovered a nude body floating in our main pool.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” the voice on the line commented.

“I didn’t make myself clear; this isn’t one of our people. I haven’t seen him yet, but according to my son he is a stranger. He’s being given artificial respiration, but George is sure that he’s dead.”

The voice at the other end became crisper. “Keep up the respiration until we get there. Mouth-to-mouth, if possible. Try not to disturb the area any more than is necessary. We’ll come as soon as we can.”

The line went dead.

Forrest returned at once to the kitchen to face his wide-eyed, worried wife and their two daughters. “Carole,” he directed, “I want you to go to your room and stay there until I call you. You’re a good girl and you aren’t being punished. Run!”

Carole looked very disappointed but nevertheless obeyed immediately.

When she was safely beyond hearing, Forrest said calmly, “George has found a man, a stranger, floating in our pool. He thinks the man is dead, but he’s applying artificial respiration anyway. I’ve sent for the sheriff’s rescue squad. Please stay away from the pool area and see that no one else goes there. Linda, dress and put the chain up on the gate. Don’t let anybody in, not even our members, until the sheriff’s squad arrives; then take your orders from whoever is in charge.”

“How about the new couple?” Linda asked quickly.

“If they come in the meantime, have them use the private driveway and offer them some coffee. If you have to, explain we have had something unusual occur and will be with them as soon as we can.”

Linda nodded her understanding and hurried after her sister.

“Is that all?” Emily asked.

“So far, yes. I’m going down to the pool to spell George. Handle things, will you?”

Emily nodded. “If you need me, call.”

Forrest reached for a pair of sun-bleached khaki shorts where they lay conveniently ready, picked up another pair for his son, and left. Emily watched him as he crossed the lawn with long swift strides and disappeared down the pathway through the grove that led to the pool area on the other side.