Killer Calories

long?”
    “A little over a year.”
    “He seems like a nice man. Did you care a lot for him? It was Ryan’s turn to stare off into the distant ocean haze, remembering. “Yes. A lot. Dion is... well, at least he was... a very kind, intelligent, funny, caring person. Quite the opposite of the mindless hunk in his movies. Although, I don't know what he’s like now. It’s been a long time since we saw each other or even spoke.”
    “What happened?” she asked. “Why did you go yo ur separate ways?”
    Ryan sighed, and she could see in his eyes how the memories still caused him pain. “Dion lived his life in secrecy, hiding who he was from those he loved most: immediate family, close friends, business associates. I couldn’t do that. I came out young, in my early twenties. And I hated the lying, the sneaking around, the facade that he insisted we wear. I couldn’t. I cared for him, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t live the lie .”
    “I understand. Do you think he stayed in the closet because of his career?”
    Ryan shook his head. “No, definitely not. Dion’s fame and momentary fortune never meant that much to him. It was his family’s and friends’ disapproval that he couldn’t risk. He couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by them if they found out.”
    Flashing back on her conversation with Bernadette, Savannah said, “I heard via the grapevine that Kat had the hots for him.”
    Ryan chuckled. “So? Are you surprised? In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s gorgeous.”
    “Oh, I noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I noticed big time. But Kat was his co-star, one of his best friends. She must have known he was gay.”
    “Like I said, Dion’s life was a secret, and guarding that secret consumed most of his time and energy. I’m not surprised that Kat didn’t know. Very few people did.”
    “Maybe she found out later. I hear she threatened to expose him for something, just before she died. Do you think that could be what it was?”
    “To my knowledge, Dion conducted his affairs—no pun intended—with integrity. I don’t know any other clandestine activities that he would have wanted to keep hidden. But, remember, I haven’t been in contact with him for years. People change.”
    Savannah thought of what Bernadette had said about Dion threatening Kat’s life.
    “Would the Dion you knew and cared for have committed murder?”
    Ryan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Long ago, I gave up trying to figure out what a person would or wouldn’t do. Who knows what any of us are capable of doing under the right or wrong circumstances?” He took a deep breath. “But to answer your question: No, I don’t believe the Dion I knew would kill anyone.”
    “Not even if they threatened to expose him, to tell the world—and more importantly, his friends and family—he was gay?”
    Ryan thought long and hard before he answered. “Once again, I can’t imagine him murdering someone. But I can tell you one thing... if Dion Zeller ever would kill another human being, that would be the reason why.”

    By the time Savannah and Ryan had left the gazebo and strolled back to the guests’ dormitory, the sun had set and the spa’s daily activities were winding down. Several swimmers splashed in the pool, and one elderly man was enjoying a tennis lesson from Bernadette on the court. Other than those individuals, they saw no one as they entered the dorm and headed for their appointed rooms.
    “Early to bed and early to rise,” she said as they walked down the hallway and arrived at her door, “makes me cranky and puffy ‘round the eyes.”
    Ryan leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “My dear, it would take more than a few early risings to ruin your sweet disposition.”
    “You think far too highly of me,” she said, flashing him a dimpled grin. “But please don’t stop. I need at least one friend who thinks I’m adorable... deluded though he may be.”
    He tweaked the end of her nose. “Good night, Savannah .”
    “You, too. Sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
    He grimaced. “That’s revolting.”
    “Not at all. It’s a quaint Southern phrase. Actually, in my childhood circles it was considered a ritualistic nightly blessing... sort of. But then I was also told, ‘Don’t let the bogeyman catch you with your bloomers down when you’re contemplatin ’ philosophy in the outhouse.’ So much for quaint Southern phraseology.”
    She