Page 53 of Beach Bodies

The pressure is immediate, and intense. I can feel my spine bend and my lungs compress. His feet are inches from my face. One lifts, then a sock is flung. Then, the other sock.

‘I know. You think I haven’t thought of that a million times?’

The voice on the other line is a muffled blur, but sounds animated.

‘No. It can’t be a coincidence. I’d bet my career on it… Iambetting my career on it. One person, every year, at the same time of year…’

Oh, fuck. He’s not just looking into Michael’s death. He knows there are more.

In fact, I might be next. If he shifts, or bounces a little, he might snap my spine, and then it’s adios Lily.

He chuckles. ‘Nah, you’re right. Just remember I’m here under DanielBlack, OK?’ Pause. ‘Yeah, let me know about that advertising slot. It feels like exactly what we’ve been waiting for.’

Sweat is beading on my forehead. My lungs are pancakes.

‘Could be huge,’ he goes on. ‘Listen, I just got back from a workout. Let me call you after I hit the shower.’

He gets up. Sweet relief. Painfully, slowly, I allow my lungs to fully inflate again.

He must have disconnected his call. I hear the clunk of the phone being set down on a hard surface.

I listen to him pad around the room. His feet come in and out of my line of sight, then one lifts– ah. His workout shorts are coming off. Then a pair of black briefs. In spite of the circumstances, I have a sudden and very specific vision of the two perfect muscled mounds that comprise his ass. A grunt tells me his shirt is next, and it’s also suddenly very hard not to remember how good his torso looked when it was inches above mine. Some quiet thwacks tell me he’s throwing his clothes on the bed. Then, the creak of the bathroom door and, finally, the sound of the shower– my exit cue.

I wait until I hear him singing, loud and off key like last time. This time, it’s Cat Stevens’ ‘Peace Train’, a song that’s always made me inexplicably sad, even though I think it’s supposed to be hopeful.

Forget about ‘Peace Train’ and peace your way out of here!I chide myself, and army-crawl out. I scrape sweaty tendrils of hair from my eyes as I make for his laptop, just in case he happened to drop his password in as he roamed about the room; still locked. Fuck. Do I have time to go back into the safe…

The shower turns off. Nope. Also, who the hell takes a two-minute shower? Can he even be clean?

Then a thought hits me like a freight train.

I could kill him.

I could kill Daniel in this very room.

He’s stronger, too strong for me to overcome without the element of surprise… but I’m creative…

No, you’re thinking crazy.

I move with swift steps towards the door. I open it as quietly and as quickly as I can and step out into the hall, where—

‘Fuck!’ I breathe, just as a surprised maid with an armful of towels says, ‘Merde!’

She was obviously just about to knock when I flung open the door.

‘Um…’ I give a guilty smile. ‘He’s in the shower. You might want to come back?’

She hesitates, then extends the soft pile of towels to me. In accented English, she says, ‘Would you like to take them inside, miss?’

‘Ah… not a good idea.’ I shut the door behind me the rest of the way. Unfortunately, the noise of the door clicking into place is somehow gargantuan.

Daniel must be out of the bathroom, because from inside the room I hear him say, ‘Hello? Who’s there?’

‘Please don’t mention me,’ I say, with barely enough time to register the puzzled expression on her face before I’m fleeing down the hall.

I round the corner just in time to hear the woman say, ‘Towels, sir?’

‘Oh– yeah. Thanks. I forgot I ordered these.’

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