Secret Beach

Obviously it was for me. I glanced in both directions down the hall. Nothing. More confused than ever I grabbed the package and went back to the bed and opened it.

At first I was confused about what was in the box. And then under the main contents was a page from the Kauai book, 'Secret Beach'. It looked like the page had been torn out.

And then, I got it, I couldn't stop smiling. It was the top of her red bikini. The top, the reference to Secret Beach, all started to make sense. Then the two previous messages. Her resignation and then the citation of company policy. I think I was beginning to understand this riddle. I noticed one more note:

'Meet me in your hotel lobby - and pack for a day at the beach!'

Quickly I packed for the beach. Water, towel, sunscreen, etc. I rushed to the lobby, and there, studying a road map sat Gail. She looked at me with a broad smile, stood up, and we hugged.

"What have you been up to stranger?" She asked, still smiling.

"We've got a lot to talk about." I told her, happy but still confused.

"Don't worry," she said, "we've got a long drive, and a lot of time to talk."

And we did.

Gail told me that she'd always liked me in a friendly way, but over the course of the week on Kauai her feelings had grown deeper.

"I definitely wanted you the other night, but I knew there were," she paused, "entanglements."

I understood. We worked together, I was her manager. I recalled the non fraternization document she'd given me. I nodded silently while she continued.

"I really like my job," she explained, "it's just that I decided I like you better."

She told me she had discussed a position within Pinkus in the veterinary science division with one of their hiring managers during the sales conference. Something to the effect of, 'if you ever want to work on the vet side, we'd create a spot for you.'

"At the time I didn't even give it a second thought, but now," she looked at me, "it made sense."

I had an odd mixture of feelings hearing what Gail was saying. I definitely did not want to lose her as a sales associate. But I most definitely did not want to lose her as a, ummm, well at this point I wasn't sure what our relationship could be categorized as. I just knew I liked her.

She told me that she had purposely avoided me the previous day for several reasons. First off she wanted to make sure she was clear on her feelings. And then she had to navigate the transfer to the vet science division.

"There was one hell of a lot of paperwork." She told me.

We continued the discussion until I directed her to the turnout for Secret Beach. As we were getting out of the car I realized I still had the white box with her bikini top in it.

"Do you want this?" I asked, holding the top.

"I don't think I'll need it," she told me.

My day was suddenly getting even better!

Gail and I spent the last three days of our vacation together, a fair amount of the time in either her bed or mine. We also toured the island, snorkeled, hiked, kayaked, and visited many beaches. My favorite beach was Secret Beach for several reasons.

When we hiked down the trail that day and walked to the far west end I was unsure how comfortable Gail would be, unclothed or not on the public beach. We set up our towels, chairs and cooler and then it was that moment.

Gail quickly looked around, took a deep breath, and off came her shirt. Her naked breasts were unveiled. At this point, I'd only seen a brief flash the other night. In the bright sunlight the paleness of her large breasts contrasted with the tan she'd developed. She looked fantastic. With great effort I kept my hands away. At least for the moment.

Needless to say, we had a great day on Secret Beach and the entire rest of the trip was the best.

Flying home we arranged to sit next to one another and we had a different type of conversation. I wanted us to be open and honest, something that I realized too late had not happened between Ali and I.

We decided we would see each other exclusively and see what happened. The topics of cohabitation, long term plans, and life goals were not spoken about specifically but I felt we shared similar hopes for the relationship.

She told me one thing that I was determined to do.

"Make sure you've got all your feelings worked out about your ex."

That was why the meeting at Zen Zen and the dinner at my house. I wanted to make sure that any lingering feelings were gone.

And they were. In a brief email I made sure Ali knew there was no chance for reconciliation.

Gail and my relationship progressed and we were happy. The topics of living together, commitment, and marriage became a pleasant topic to discuss. It was impossible not to compare Gail and Ali.

While Ali's beauty was immediate and obvious, my attraction to Gail physically grew and grew.

But it was beyond appearance that I realized the bigger difference between the two women. Gail was responsible, smart, a hard worker, and I realized her and my long term goals were much more closely aligned.

In retrospect I realized that Allison far more resembled a spoiled child that did not understand the concept of deferred gratification. I believe now I had been blinded by her attractiveness and that as I matured into my adulthood, Ali's emotional maturity did not progress.

In the meantime both Gail and my careers, in different divisions at Pinkus Labs, continued to grow. I hired a person to replace Gail, and she seemed to thrive in her role within the veterinary science side of the business.

One thing I did keep my eye on was Novacim, and Adrian Vasguez. In a move of self preservation he was now cooperating with the Department of Justice and was aiding investors to get some of their money back. It was cents on the dollar. Naturally Vasguez was claiming all the blame was on Dr Gupta. He was not present to defend himself.

I also learned that somehow, Vasguez kept the beautiful house in Sylvania and somewhere, and I forgot where, I learned that Ali was still living there. Despite the fact that I was far happier with Gail than I'd ever been with Ali, it still bothered me that Vasguez was able to retain this house after cheating all these people and Ali was enjoying it too.

It was a Wednesday night in early February, I was still living alone in my house, Gail was there a lot, but she still hadn't completely moved in yet. That particular night she didn't happen to be there.

Entering the house I grabbed the mail, unlocked the door, and juggled my work backpack with the mail as I closed the door. Subconsciously I noticed that the house was overly dark. Before I had a chance to turn on any lights something hit me hard on the back of the head, it knocked me out.

Slowly, I woke up. I soon became aware of a sharp pain on the back of my head. I also realized I couldn't move my arms or legs. One of my table lamps, shade pulled up, shown brightly in my face the rest of the house was pitch black. I was still woozy but I sensed rather than saw a silhouette positioned behind the lamp.

"Good morning," I heard an odd high pitched voice say to me.

"Who... are you?" I managed to say.

"Who am I?" He chuckled mirthlessly in that same high pitched voice, "I'm either going to be your best friend or your worst enemy. You get to decide."

"I don't understand." I told him, completely confused. By this time I realized that I was duct taped to a chair.

"Of course," he began, "let me explain. You see, I invested five hundred thousand dollars in your company. And now, I want it back. I was told that it would be worth many times my investment, but all I want is the five hundred thousand back," he calmly and pleasantly told me.

"Huh" maybe it was the blow to my head, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about." I told him.

"My name is Tobin Chester," he told me as I saw movement in the dark, he was rolling something out on one of my end tables. I heard the metallic clatter of utensils.

"So, we can do this one of two ways," same high pitched calm polite voice, but there was an underlying menacing quality. "You can give me my money now, or you may force me to use persuasion."

With that he turned the light to shine on the end table. There on the table was an assortment of precision tools. Sharp bladed pliers, stainless steel hammers, and an assortment of scalpels. Suddenly a deep fear welled up within me.

"Wait a minute," I was panicked and began to sweat, "what money, what investment, what company?"

He quickly wheeled on me, no longer calm and polite, I felt the blade of one of his tools on my chin slicing my skin.

"You know what I'm talking about, I traced your address through business records. I put my entire savings into fucking Novacim, the wonder drug, and I want my money back."

I finally got it. I thought back to the mail addressed to Ali for Novacim with my address.. That's why he was in my home, he thought this was a Novacim address..

"Look," I pleaded, "there is a mistake here. I know all about Novacim, but I don't have anything to do with it," I continued, "in fact the people from Novacim...."

"SILENCE!" He roared at me, the earlier calmness long gone.

He picked up an ugly looking pair of industrial scissors and moved toward me.

"I want," he began as the blades sliced through my shirt, "my money," he continued pulling back the scraps of my shirt exposing my bare abdomen, "BACK!" He shouted.

The entire front of my body, above my waist, was now exposed. He then grabbed one of the longer scalpels and moved toward me. In my scrambled thoughts, somehow he looked familiar. I just couldn't quite place him quite yet.

"Okay," he began, studying my bare skin, "normally all it takes is a little persuasion." He said as he hovered over me.

At first there was far less pain than I thought there would be. I felt the blade smoothly sever my skin over my solar plexus. Horizontally he made the incision. I immediately felt the blood flow, and then the searing pain kicked in. I screamed.

"Back to the issue of my money." Chester stood above me, blood still on the surface of the tool.

Soundlessly I pointed to my backpack, unable to speak.

He followed my gesture. Maybe he thought there was money in the bag. He opened and seemed to study each file, my wallet, my business cards, and all the other contents of the bag.

"What is all this?" He asked with a perplexed look on his face.

"Can I," I whispered through my pain, "tell you a story?"

He gave a quick nod, "it better be good." With the same odd high pitched voice.

So I told him. I told him about Pinkus Labs, the meeting, and then running into Vasguez on Secret Beach. He paid particular attention when I spoke about the topless part. The good news, he was listening.

I went on to tell him about Ali and Vasguez's relationship, her investment in Novacim, the divorce and her living there now. Finally I said to him,

"I would bet I hate the guy far more than you do!" Painfully I told him.

He was quiet, studying me. He paced a few feet back and forth still staring at me.

"That's a good story, and I actually think I believe you," he told me, "but none of that helps me get my money back." He picked up the scalpel again.

"I have an idea," I said to him, grimacing through my pain.

I then told him I knew where Vasguez lived. I told him in detail about the house, the grounds, and anything else I knew about Vasguez.

"If there is money to be found," I said, "it's somewhere on that property."

He continued to look at me, still considering all I had said.

"But do me one favor," I whispered, "make him pay. Badly."

Chester nodded and to my great relief began repacking his tools of torture. At that moment suddenly I knew where I'd seen him. He was the odd man in the beret I'd seen at the Novacim meetings. Obviously Vasguez's persuasive sales pitch had worked on Chester.

"Okay," he said, "give me the details."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The only person I spoke to about the whole horrific experience was Gail. I felt confident that Tobin Chester would not come back for me, or Gail for that matter, but I wanted to make sure she was aware. Of course she wanted me to report the entire matter to the police. I nodded and told her I would think about it. I always tried to be honest with Gail, but this was an extraordinary situation.

I never mentioned the conversation Chester and I had regarding Adrian Vasguez and where he lived. Though I trusted her 100% I didn't want to entangle her in any way if something actually happened to Vasguez.

It had been several weeks since the evening with Chester and the normal circumstances of life began to distract me from that topic. Work continued positively for both Gail and I. My abdominal wound had healed with a pronounced scar. One other thing happened during this time frame, I proposed to Gail. She accepted and we were now officially engaged.

With all that going on, believe it or not, I'd kind of forgotten about the conversation with Tobin Chester. Abruptly, I was reminded by the local news.

'GRISLEY TORTURE ASSAULT AT LUXURY ESTATE IN WESTERN SUBURBS'

The story went on to say a notorious businessman, Adrian Vasguez, had been attacked in his home in the Sylvania area. It vaguely alluded to torture being applied by an intruder that had broken in to the home. The police speculated that this was a targeted attack and the assailant and the victim had some type of business relationship.

Alerted by screams, a neighbor called the County 911 and Adams County sheriff's arrived on the scene. The assailant, who's name is being withheld, was killed during the exchange with the sheriff's department.

Mr. Vasguez suffered severe injury during the attack and is hospitalized indefinitely. Fortunately the victim was alone in the house at the time.

Wow! I couldn't imagine the terror that Vasguez endured. The small sample I experienced with Chester would keep me awake at night if I allowed my mind to wander to that experience. I tried never to go there.

Despite the horrific attack, that I felt some degree of responsibility for, life went on for Gail and I. Wedding plans were progressing. Unlike Allison and my grand wedding at the country club, this was going to be a small affair at a neighborhood bistro we had rented out for the evening.

During the weeks leading up to the wedding I learned some interesting news about Vasguez and Allison.

Because of his long hospital stay and lack of health insurance he lost his beautiful house. I learned later that he had moved back to California to live with family members. They said his wounds would heal but the psychological damage caused by the attack would have a long term effect.

Gail's condo lease was up and she moved in with me just a few months before the wedding. She had been staying with me a lot of the time anyway, so the transition was minimal. One thing she insisted on and purchased for the house was a hot tub.

Like I'd said Gail is an athlete and plays on a competitive women's soccer team. She needed the hot tub to work out the strained muscles after her games. I used it too and I appreciated the therapeutic aspect of the massaging jets. Of course, what I enjoyed most about it was when Gail and I used it together.

It was a Saturday evening. Dinner was long over and It was dark out. Gail had opened a bottle of Oregon Pinot Noir and called to me to join her in the hot tub. I had been watching Sports Center, it was an easy choice. Baseball scores or my naked big breasted soon to be wife in the hot tub. I'd check out the scores tomorrow in the paper.

Just then the doorbell rang.

I looked out the sidelite and there, of all people, stood Allison on my front porch. I considered not answering it, but I knew I needed to address the issue directly and firmly.

"Allison," I said as I opened the door, "what in the world are you doing here?" I asked her.

"Michael, oh Michael," she began, " I just need to talk to you. Everything has gone wrong. Please just give me a few minutes." She pleaded.

I still must have had a small soft spot for her, against my better judgment, I half heartedly agreed.

She started on this long rambling story about her life. How she was supposed to live this wonderful life with nice homes, sports cars, and travel. At some point I could tell she'd had a few drinks. I stayed silent.

"And then that asshole Adrian took all my money." She said,

I could've said I told you so, but what was the point?

She said that Adrian had been attacked by this crazy guy and had been hurt pretty badly.

"They never said so on the news," she told me, "but the official term was genitally emasculated." she paused, "The guy cut his... penis off."

"And then he was so long in the hospital that his house was repossessed. I had to move out. And now I'm living in a shitty little apartment in south Portland and trying to sell real estate!"

"Michael," now focused on me after her tale of woe, "isn't there some way we could try to work things out again?" She asked me.

I was so surprised by her inane request I was for the moment speechless.

Just then the cavalry arrived. Gail, topless with a towel over shoulders, walked into the living room, large breasts swaying side to side as she approached.

"Michael, can you bring another bottle of wine out when you... "

Allison's high backed chair faced away from the direction where Gail had approached. Allison had not been aware of Gail, until she began speaking.

"What!" Allison gasped, as she heard Gail talking to me. She looked over her shoulder and saw Gail walking in, partially clad. Her mouth made a soundless 'O', obviously Allison had no idea Gail was here.

"It's been a while, I know," I began filling the interrupted void, "Allison, this is my fiancée Gail Beverly, I believe you've met."

Allison's eyes got wide, abruptly she stood up and without a word, moved toward the door to leave.

"Nice to see you again," Gail called to Allison as she fled.

"Now about that bottle of wine." Gail calmly said to me.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Gail and I had talked of moving shortly after the wedding. Now, nearly three years later we knew we needed a bigger house. We had been thrifty, living on my income and saving Gail's. Fortunately Gail and I were on the same page financially. With the equity in my house and a large chunk from savings we could afford a larger home with all the features we wanted in a desirable neighborhood.

"Oh wow, here's something worth looking at, it's in Harmon Hills. Great school's in this area," Gail told me while studying the listing on her IPad.

It was a Saturday morning and we had planned on hitting some open houses today. We had a deal in principle to sell our house, now we just had to find a new one. Gail and I wanted a family home. One for the 'long haul'.

"Michael!" She said, turning toward me with a smile, "it has a pool!"

A pool was on our wish list but in Portland Oregon, houses with swimming pools were rare.

"Okay," I said, "let's check it out."

The yard needed a little work and it was a few years from needing a new roof. Some of the style needed updating, but, so far nothing was a deal breaker.

We wandered through the open front door. We took off our shoes and put on fabric booties to protect the floor. We heard voices from another part of the house as we entered the front room.

We walked through the dining room. There was a large picture window overlooking the front garden. As we were exploring the kitchen the voices we heard approached. I stopped for a minute, could it be possible?

And then, as large as life, in overly polite sales mode was Allison. She had a big smile plastered on her face as she greeted us. She was the realtor showing the house.

It took her a moment to recognize me, Gail had already wandered off.