Swimming to Catalina

breathed.
    She laughed. “Good. I’d take advantage, but I have the feeling that your friend would kill us both.”
    “I believe you’re right,” Stone said. He heard the bamboo door open and close, but he could see nothing. Suddenly, Lisa’s hands were cooler and much more explorative. “Lisa?” he said.
    “Shhhh,” came the reply.

    Stone felt her climb onto the table with him, and in a moment, she was sitting astride him.
    “Lisa, I’m saying myself for Betty,” Stone said.
    Betty burst out laughing. “That was a politic thing to say. Now be quiet; there are things I want to do with you.”
    She brought him fully erect, then lifted herself and came down gently upon him.
    Stone made little noises. The dry, warm desert air, the soft breeze, and the girl on top of him seemed to be all he had ever wanted in the world. They took each other noisily, then collapsed. After a few minutes, Betty led him to a futon overlooking the valley to the south. She kissed him sweetly, then returned to the table and the waiting Lisa for her own massage.
    Stone drifted into a dreamless sleep.
    An hour later, Betty crawled onto the futon with him, and they made love again, less urgently this time, slowly and more sweetly. When they had recovered, Betty tugged at his hand. “I want a swim,” she said. “Come with me.”
    Protesting mildly, Stone allowed himself to be drawn back up the path, naked, toward the pool. It occurred to him that he had not been nude in front of this many people since the showers at the police academy, where the circumstances were less inviting. He dove into the pool and swam a couple of lazy laps, with Betty alongside him.
    “Feel like some tennis?” she asked when they stopped.
    “Absolutely not,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to get all tensed up again after all this relaxation. How about tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow is good.” she replied.

    They lay naked on lounges beside the pool and drank exotic fruit juices and watched the other guests go by.
    “Anybody you know?” Stone asked.
    “Not a soul, and that’s fine with me.”
    “Me, too,” he said. The last thing he wanted was to run into somebody either of them knew.
    Betty caught him glancing furtively at a very beautiful girl as she walked past, naked. “It’s all right to look,” she said, “but don’t touch.”
    They dressed for dinner and dined at sunset on some of the best food Stone had ever tasted, and he chose a wonderful cabernet from an outstanding list of California wines. He noticed that other couples were gravitating toward a terrace adjoining the dining room, and when they were done, Stone and Betty joined them. Soon a fireworks display began and went on for a quarter of an hour. The deep desert night was shattered by bright explosions and dazzling trails of light. When it was over, everybody drifted away, and soon the area was deserted. Stone and Betty were the last to leave, walking hand in hand to their suite.
    The following morning they played tennis, and Betty turned out to be very good indeed.
    “I’ll bet you beat most of the men you play with,” Stone said when they had finished.
    “I beatall the men I play with,” Betty replied, tossing him a towel.
    They had lunch, and Betty said it was time to leave. “They like everybody out by midafternoon, so they can get ready for the new week and give the staff some time off.”
    “I’ll get the bill,” Stone said.
    “It’s on me,” she replied.

    “It’s too expensive; let’s at least share it.”
    “I’ll take it out in sex,” she said, laughing.
    “IOU.”
    “You bet your ass you do.”
    When Stone had driven down the mountain and they were back on the road to L.A., he started to ask questions. “I’m sorry, but I have to,” he said. “What did Vance say to you on Friday?”
    “Not much, which is unusual,” she replied. “He came in at mid-morning and shut himself up in his office, told me to hold all calls.”
    “Who called?”
    “Lou Regenstein, but not the other two,” she said. “I know that’s what you wanted to know.”
    “Was Vance there all day?”
    “He didn’t leave until late afternoon; had lunch at his desk. It was very unlike him. Normally, he’d have lunch with a friend, often Lou, and he’s usually in great spirits after finishing shooting, but not on Friday.”
    “Have you ever seen him like that before?”
    “No. He was worried, I think, and I’ve never seen him worried before. Vance is not, by nature, a