between the woman’s legs was the name Romeo .
I’d found him. The Romeo Bandit was alive and well after all these years. And he was about to get taken down by three naked women. That was going to sting. Elmer struck me as the type of guy who’d want to be taken down by a man.
I brought the camera up and took a couple of quick shots, and then I bit my lip as I debated whether or not to stretch his skin out a little and get a more complete picture. I finally decided that was the alcohol talking and probably not the best decision, and then I realized the alcohol had been giving me direction through this whole debacle because what I was doing definitely wasn’t using my best judgment.
I found this out the hard way when I turned to crawl back to my own lounger and my towel got stuck under my knee, pulling it completely off and leaving me bare-assed with my lady bits flapping in the breeze.
“Yikes,” a male voice said behind me.
I scrambled to cover my rear with the towel and turned my head in time to catch Elmer Hughes’s horrified stare.
“Jesus God,” he wheezed, clutching his chest. “I thought I was having a flashback from the seventies. Those things looked a lot different then. That’s nothing like ’70s bush. You’ve got a nice landscaper.”
I turned fifty shades of red and scrambled to make sure I was completely covered with the towel. And then I noticed his gaze had shifted to the camera in my hand.
“I can explain,” I said. “I was putting on sunscreen and it made my ring loose, and it flew right off my hand and under your lounge chair. My camera has a light and a magnifier on it, so I thought maybe I’d be able to see it better.”
Holy shit. I could lie like a boss. I had no idea where that came from, but even I believed it, I was so convincing. Maybe it was the Xanax/mojito cocktail that made me such a great liar.
“Huh,” Elmer said. “Did you find it?”
“No. And boy is my husband going to be pissed. That’s the second time I’ve lost a wedding ring.”
“Maybe it’s a sign from God you’re not supposed to be married,” he said, waggling big bushy eyebrows.
My lips curled in disgust and I chose that unfortunate moment to look at Elmer’s oranges. It turned out there was still some life down there after all.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yep, just what I was thinking.” I crawled forward another inch, thinking of escape and someone to call for help. Lying had gotten me in a lot of trouble. And I wasn’t willing to do anything for a hundred thousand dollars after all.
I searched for Rosemarie and was just in time to see her and the bartender disappear behind the bar in a tangle of limbs. I searched for Aunt Scarlet, but she’d buried herself in the sand and was busy building anatomically incorrect breasts on her chest. I had no backup and there was no rescue in sight.
“How about you join me for dinner tonight? I can arrange a private meal in my villa at sunset, overlooking the ocean. Do you like roses?”
I could see how he’d seduced hundreds of women. There was a certain debonair charm about him that was appealing, even though he was long past his prime. He must’ve been lethal back in the day. No woman would’ve been able to resist.
“I love roses,” I managed to say. “And I’d love to have dinner.”
“Good. I’m in number one twenty-seven. Just come around to the back deck.”
He lay back down and closed his eyes and I let out a sign of relief. I crawled the rest of the way to my lounger and started gathering up my stuff. I was pretty much exhausted for the day, and I needed a nap in hopes that a good idea about how to capture him would appear somewhere in my dreams. Because at the moment, I had nothing. I’d left my cuffs in Whiskey Bayou by accident, and I was pretty sure using the Glock in my beach bag would get me arrested since I was in another state and I didn’t have any authority here. Not that I had a lot of authority back
I’d found him. The Romeo Bandit was alive and well after all these years. And he was about to get taken down by three naked women. That was going to sting. Elmer struck me as the type of guy who’d want to be taken down by a man.
I brought the camera up and took a couple of quick shots, and then I bit my lip as I debated whether or not to stretch his skin out a little and get a more complete picture. I finally decided that was the alcohol talking and probably not the best decision, and then I realized the alcohol had been giving me direction through this whole debacle because what I was doing definitely wasn’t using my best judgment.
I found this out the hard way when I turned to crawl back to my own lounger and my towel got stuck under my knee, pulling it completely off and leaving me bare-assed with my lady bits flapping in the breeze.
“Yikes,” a male voice said behind me.
I scrambled to cover my rear with the towel and turned my head in time to catch Elmer Hughes’s horrified stare.
“Jesus God,” he wheezed, clutching his chest. “I thought I was having a flashback from the seventies. Those things looked a lot different then. That’s nothing like ’70s bush. You’ve got a nice landscaper.”
I turned fifty shades of red and scrambled to make sure I was completely covered with the towel. And then I noticed his gaze had shifted to the camera in my hand.
“I can explain,” I said. “I was putting on sunscreen and it made my ring loose, and it flew right off my hand and under your lounge chair. My camera has a light and a magnifier on it, so I thought maybe I’d be able to see it better.”
Holy shit. I could lie like a boss. I had no idea where that came from, but even I believed it, I was so convincing. Maybe it was the Xanax/mojito cocktail that made me such a great liar.
“Huh,” Elmer said. “Did you find it?”
“No. And boy is my husband going to be pissed. That’s the second time I’ve lost a wedding ring.”
“Maybe it’s a sign from God you’re not supposed to be married,” he said, waggling big bushy eyebrows.
My lips curled in disgust and I chose that unfortunate moment to look at Elmer’s oranges. It turned out there was still some life down there after all.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yep, just what I was thinking.” I crawled forward another inch, thinking of escape and someone to call for help. Lying had gotten me in a lot of trouble. And I wasn’t willing to do anything for a hundred thousand dollars after all.
I searched for Rosemarie and was just in time to see her and the bartender disappear behind the bar in a tangle of limbs. I searched for Aunt Scarlet, but she’d buried herself in the sand and was busy building anatomically incorrect breasts on her chest. I had no backup and there was no rescue in sight.
“How about you join me for dinner tonight? I can arrange a private meal in my villa at sunset, overlooking the ocean. Do you like roses?”
I could see how he’d seduced hundreds of women. There was a certain debonair charm about him that was appealing, even though he was long past his prime. He must’ve been lethal back in the day. No woman would’ve been able to resist.
“I love roses,” I managed to say. “And I’d love to have dinner.”
“Good. I’m in number one twenty-seven. Just come around to the back deck.”
He lay back down and closed his eyes and I let out a sign of relief. I crawled the rest of the way to my lounger and started gathering up my stuff. I was pretty much exhausted for the day, and I needed a nap in hopes that a good idea about how to capture him would appear somewhere in my dreams. Because at the moment, I had nothing. I’d left my cuffs in Whiskey Bayou by accident, and I was pretty sure using the Glock in my beach bag would get me arrested since I was in another state and I didn’t have any authority here. Not that I had a lot of authority back
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