Pleasant steamy warmth greeted him as he poked his head cautiously around the doorjamb, and his eyes widened with disbelief as he beheld a delightfully amazing sight and inhaled the pungent aroma of chlorine that permeated the room.
�Oh, wow!� he exclaimed as he pushed the door open and moved through it. It drifted slowly closed behind him with a click that seemed loud in the quiet of the room. He jumped and spun around in alarm. Reaching for the knob again, he tested it to make certain he had not locked himself inside. Satisfied that he was not imprisoned, he turned back to the huge cavernous room.
An Olympic sized swimming pool stretched out before him. The water was calm, and shimmered in the light from the overhead fixtures. Steps in the nearest corner led into the water at the shallow end, and a chrome railing near the deep end indicated that steps attached to the side provided exit from there. Jutting off its center to form a �T� was a narrow extension that passed beneath the glass that formed the south wall and emptied into a second standard sized pool outside, allowing guests to leave the indoor pool and enter the outdoor pool without even having to get out of the water. A foggy mist clung to the warm surface on the outdoor portion of the pool, and the snow around the rim had melted, revealing a glimpse of the tiled edges. There was also a diving board on the edge of the exterior portion of the pool. Tall lifeguard chairs stood at the edges of the indoor and outdoor portions of the pool.
�This is great!� he said to himself, his voice echoing in the large room as he moved closer to the pool, wishing he had included his swim trunks in his luggage.
His eyes moved slowly around the room, taking in everything. Beach balls, floating ring toss games, and dive sticks were stored on shelves for the guests� use, along with large white towels, all neatly folded and stacked. Deck tables and chairs lined the decoratively tiled north wall behind him. The glassed wall was fogged up with condensation from the steamy warmth of the pool, and thin streams of water ran in rivulets down the clear surface and into the pool. Through the foggy glass, he could see the silhouettes of the outdoor chairs and tables which were positioned on one side of the pool on a concrete deck, all of them nearly completely buried under the snow.
It was extremely warm inside the pool room, and so humid that he could already feel his hair beginning to curl from the effects of it. Bundled up in a heavy winter sweater, he was starting to perspire.
Squatting down at the edge of the pool, J.R. reached down and dipped his hand into the water. It was warm, not quite bathwater warm, but close enough to be enormously enticing to the young detective.
Rising to his feet again, he wandered to the glass wall and rubbed away a circle in the condensation with his hand to look outside. Through the glass, beyond the outdoor pool, he saw that the blizzard winds had finally stopped. The glittering blanket of snow stretched out to the bare, leafless trees in the forested area beyond, a stark contrast to the humid warmth inside the pool room. The sky was dark gray, and large fluffy snowflakes drifted lazily toward the ground.
As sweat began trickling down his back between his shoulder blades from the sauna-like heat, he reached up and scratched his head in puzzled deliberation, his fingers confirming that his hair was indeed beginning to form ringlets. He sighed. He would have to attack his unruly mop with a blow drier to relax them again.
Turning away from the scenic view outside, his eyes fell longingly upon the pool again, wishing desperately for his trunks. Who would have thought that a winter resort would not only have a swimming pool, but such a magnificent one?
He drew in a deep breath and released it in a regretful sigh. Oh, well. Maybe next time. But he knew there would probably never be a next time. It had taken months of persuasive negotiation for him and Betty to convince Barnaby take this family vacation, and he doubted he would be able to talk him into another one. To his aging cousin, the ideal vacation was a trip to the nearest trout filled stream or a fishing boat on a quiet lake. Maybe he could come alone, some day, possibly in the summer months. This seemed like a wonderful place to meet women.
Turning his back on the swimming pool, he walked toward the door. Just as his hand touched the knob, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the alluring pool.
All work and no play . . . . . The old adage danced tauntingly in his mind as he gazed at the shimmering surface of the water. You�ve been working hard and studying hard and you need to do something fun for yourself!
Turning the knob, he opened the door, but stopped in the doorway. The corridor was empty. Dropping his eyes to his wrist, he glanced quickly at his watch. It was twelve twenty. Betty had said that lunch would be ready around one, and Barnaby was probably still pouring over the resort�s paperwork searching for clues as to the disappearance of the staff and guests. He could easily spend a half hour or so in the pool, and still make it to the dining room with time to spare. They knew he was exploring the building, and were not likely to miss him for a while yet.
He glanced down at his clothes, a heavy beige sweater and blue jeans. There was still the matter of not having a pair of swim trunks handy. He couldn�t very well go swimming in his clothes. With that heavy sweater, he�d go straight to the bottom!
When was the last time I did anything frivolous and daring? The thought slowly wiggled its way into his mind, driven by the desire to seize a rare opportunity. His tired, overworked mind and body were finding the prospect of this warm and inviting pool extremely enticing, and a moment like this was likely never to present itself again.
His eyes scanned the room, lingering in the corners beneath the ceiling, looking for a video camera, but found nothing to suggest that the pool area was being monitored by any kind of surveillance equipment. His eyes then went to the window. Fogged up as it was with condensation, it would be impossible for anyone to see clearly through the glass, even if there was anyone out there to look.
Closing the door again, he checked for a lock, but found nothing that would secure the door. That opened him up to discovery if someone should come looking for him. He pressed his lips together in deep thought, so tempted by the simple fun of taking a dip in the pool that it surpassed his concerns about being caught.
The decision was made abruptly. No point was served by using up valuable time with deliberations. Moving to the nearest deck chair, he pulled his heavy sweater off over his head and draped it over the chair back. Instantly, he felt relief from the garment�s heat on the bare skin of his torso. Sitting down in the chair, he pulled off his shoes and socks, and left them on the tiled floor. Then he stood up, unfastened his belt, and slipped off his jeans, laying them across the arm of the chair. Tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, he hesitated, casting an uneasy glance at the door. He could just jump in using his underpants as his swim trunks. That way, if Betty or Barnaby walked in, he wouldn�t be caught in a complete state of undress. But then he would either have to put his dry clothing on over his wet underpants, or take them off and carry them up to his room. Neither idea was as appealing as the tantalizing alternative.
The hard ceramic tile was cool to his bare feet as he padded to the door and opened it to check the corridor once again. It remained empty.
Tucking his thumbs into the waistband again, he lowered his underwear to his ankles, and stepped out of them, then snatched them up and tossed them on the chair with the rest of his clothes as he ran past it to the pool and leaped into it with a whoop that echoed throughout the cavernous room.
The splash he made was loud in the quiet room, and he surfaced a moment later, flinging his wet hair out of his face with a toss of his head. The water was deliciously warm, refreshing and invigorating, and he rubbed his hands up and down his arms and chest to rinse off the sweat that had risen beneath his heavy sweater.
Pushing off the shallow end, he swam the length of the pool with strong, clean strokes. When his hand touched the wall on the deep end, he tucked under and pushed off like an Olympic swimmer and returned to the shallow end.
He surfaced to catch his breath from the exertion of the lengthy swim and paused to rest, his legs bent so that he was chest-deep in the water. After a few moments of rest, he flipped over and backstroked to the deep end again. When he felt his hand strike the wall behind him, he stopped to rest again, supporting himself with his hand on the edge of the pool. Then he went under and swam under water back to the shallow end. Surfacing again, he placed his feet on the bottom and rose to his full height so that he was standing waist deep, gazing toward the deep end and the diving board that occupied an elevated position above the water. He knew it was risky being in the pool alone, and even riskier to take to the diving board, but it was an impulse he found irresistible. Moving toward the ladder at the side of the pool, he climbed out and padded toward the board.
It was not so high that it required a ladder to climb up on; one giant step was sufficient to get him on top of it, and he walked down the rough slip-proof surface to the end. Gripping the edge with his toes, he assumed a diver�s stance as he looked down at the bottom of the pool, wondering exactly how deep it was. He did not want to find out head first, so he straightened up and jumped up once, then twice, and leaped out over the water tucking both knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs.
He felt the harsh slap on his bare bottom as he struck the water, and was taken instantly beneath the surface, going deeper and deeper, but did not touch the bottom. When he stopped sinking, he kicked back to the surface, and returned to the ladder to climb out again.
This time, he jumped straight off the board in a standing position, striking the water feet first, arms straight up over his head. Cutting the surface smoothly, he sank all the way down, his feet coming to rest gently on the bottom. He allowed his knees to bend, then pushed off forcefully and glided back to the surface.
Satisfied that the pool was deep enough, he mounted the diving board again and executed an admirable dive, headfirst, cutting the water with barely a splash. He immediately brought his arms down, propelling himself forward, and he surfaced nearly halfway down the length of the pool.
�Impressive, J.R.,� he congratulated himself, pleased with the dive.
Then he turned toward the glass divider that separated the indoor pool from the outdoor pool. The divider went deep enough into the water to prevent cold air from seeping under it, which meant to get outside he would have to swim under water. Without hesitation, he drew a deep breath and went under, gliding effortlessly along the bottom of the pool.
As he passed beneath the barrier, he immediately felt the difference in the temperature of the water. It remained much warmer than the air temperature outside, warm enough to induce the light fog that floated on the surface, but cool enough to produce a mild chill on his bare skin which had been acclimated to the warmer temperature of the indoor pool. Moments later, his head emerged from the water.
He knew from the weather reports that the temperature was hovering around ten degrees, and that intense cold was immediately felt in his wet hair and face.
He sidestroked to the shallow end of the pool, and stood up, exposing his body from the waist up to the frigid air. Gooseflesh rose on his arms and torso, and he could almost feel the icicles that were trying to form on his dripping hair. His breath exhaled in a cloud of steam that hovered around his head and mingled with the light fog that continued to rest upon the surface of the water. Snowflakes floated gently onto his head and shoulders. With boyish enthusiasm, he sank beneath the surface again and felt his scalp grow warmer as the snow that had fallen on his head melted. He resurfaced and laughed aloud as he pushed his hair out of his face with his hands.
Here you are, J.R., outside, stark naked, in January in the middle of a snowstorm!
Facing the resort, he looked up at the windows overhead, half expecting to see a face scowling back at him with disapproval from one of those blank squares, but every window was empty and dark, a bleak reminder that the entire workforce and visitors had vanished.
Turning toward the bare trees in the distance, he listened carefully, but there was no sound to be heard except the soft whisper of the snow and the ice in the frozen trees. The peace and tranquility was so intense and so beautiful that he believed he had never felt so alive and so uninhibited his entire life. It was a moment he did not want to end, but his teeth were beginning to chatter in the severe cold.
For a brief moment, his eyes settled on the outdoor diving board positioned over the deeper end near the partition, considering the notion of carrying his daring behavior a step farther, then changed his mind, deciding that he would turn into a human popsicle if he left the warmth of the water. Regretfully, he dove under the water again, and swam back beneath the partition into the warmer water inside the building.
He surfaced in the center of the pool, deciding that it was probably time he returned to the others before they came looking for him.
Savoring the final moments of his time in the pool, he slowly swam one more leisurely lap, then made his way toward the ladder. When he reached it, he grasped the chrome railings and started to climb out of the pool. Just as his foot touched the top rung, he heard the click of the doorknob, and turned his head just as it started to open.
Instantly, he released his hold on the rails and dropped back into the water with a huge splash that threatened to empty the pool.
Betty pushed the door open and looked inside the room, startled by the splashing sound as he hit the water. �J.R.?� she asked. �What are you . . . .?� A delighted smile flashed across her attractive face as she observed the swimming pool. �I didn�t realize there was a pool in here!� she said, moving toward him.
She stopped abruptly when J.R. urgently raised his hand as if to push her away. He seemed to be trying to hide behind the chrome handrails. �Betty, please don�t come any closer! I am at a distinct disadvantage here!�
She stopped, puzzled. �What are you talking --- Oh!� she exclaimed, spying his clothing lying on the chair near the wall. �You mean . . . J.R., are you . . . ?�
�Yeah, so could you please . . . .� He waved her toward the door. �Please?�
A devilish grin turned up the corners of her mouth and she folded her arms in an authoritative manner. �Oh, I don�t know, J.R. You really shouldn�t swim without a lifeguard, or someone to keep an eye on you. Didn�t anyone teach you that?�
�Very funny. Now, do you mind?�
�I couldn�t in all conscious leave you here alone. I mean, you could hurt yourself or something. Then I�d feel terrible!�
�Betty!�
She laughed. �Okay, okay. I just came to tell you that lunch is ready. You can join us in the dining room, um . . . when you�re finished with your dip.�
�I�ll do that,� he replied with a smile.
Still grinning broadly, Betty made her exit through the door. J.R. waited a moment just to be sure that she didn�t mischievously open the door again to say that she had forgotten something, then climbed out of the pool. Dripping wet, he padded to the towel rack and removed one of the towels from the carefully folded stack, opened it up and wrapped it around his middle, then reached for another one to dry his hair and torso.
When he was reasonably dried, he began dressing again, no easy task in the humid room. His clothing kept clinging to his damp skin. Lastly, he put on his shoes and socks, then hurried back up the hall to the dining room where Betty and Barnaby were seated, finger combing his curling wet locks of hair.
Barnaby looked up with a knowing smile, and J.R. knew instantly that Betty had already told him. �I understand you decided to go skinny dipping, Jedediah! And you didn�t invite us?�
J.R. pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, electing to go along with the teasing. It would be even worse if he resisted. �Well, you know how it is. I wasn�t sure you and Betty would care to join me, or I would have waited.� He helped himself to the sandwiches that Betty had prepared.
Barnaby was grinning, a thoughtful expression in his ancient eyes. �I don�t guess I�ve been skinny dipping since I was about ten years old back home in Tennessee.�
J.R. looked up, surprised. �Barnaby, I�m shocked. I didn�t know you ever did something so ----� He paused, struggling for the proper word.
�Brazen?� Betty suggested. �Shameless?�
J.R. nodded. �Yeah.�
�Well, I was young once, too, you know,� Barnaby replied. �My friends and I used to swim in Willow Pond, out on Old Mill Road. Our parents weren�t wealthy enough to purchase swimsuits for us, so we used what we had -- our birthday suits!�
�Really? I used to swim there too, when Mom and Dad would go down to visit Grandma and Grandpa, but I always had a suit. Dad told me he used to swim there, too.�
�I think it was a favorite place for young people to play. Tell me, was that old tire still there?�
�The last time I went down there, yeah.�
�My friends and I hung that there. I think your father had to replace the rope at one point when it broke with him.�
�He never told me that.�
�Well, from what I understand, he went in upside down. He was a bit embarrassed about that. So, this is the first time you�ve ever been skinny dipping?�
J.R. felt his cheeks heat up a bit. �Well, yeah, it is. There isn�t much opportunity for such activities in urban Chicago. I saw the pool there, and it was so warm and inviting that I just couldn�t help myself.�
Barnaby laughed at the mild blush on his cousin�s cheeks. �It�s nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of, Jedediah. If I was your age, I probably would have done the same thing!�
�Well, I have to admit. I�ve never done anything that felt so . . . liberating!�
�Or revealing!� Betty added.
He looked at her quickly. �Just how much did you see?�
�Oh, not much,� she said, turning her attention back to her food, letting him think about that a moment.
J.R.�s cheeks heated up a little more. �Betty, did you really . . . . ?�
She laughed. �Relax, J.R. You were back in the pool by the time I got the door open. I wasn�t sure what I would find back there, so I confess I opened it rather slowly.�
He relaxed, visibly. �Oh, okay. Good.�
�Still, from what I heard, you jumped back in just as I opened the door, so obviously, if I had been just a few moments later, I would have seen a lot more than I did!�
�That is a fact. I�ve gotta say, though, that was the most incredible pool! It�s Olympic sized, but it has an extension that goes under the glass wall to the outside pool.�
�Out of curiosity, did you swim into the outside portion?� asked Barnaby.
�Yes. It was positively freezing out there! But I have to admit, it was a bit exhilarating. There was a fog lying on the surface of the water.�
Betty was smiling. �I confess, I didn�t get that good a look at it, but what you�re saying makes me wish I had a swimsuit along with me!�
�You don�t need a suit, Betty,� J.R. told her. �There�s only the three of us. We�d respect your privacy.�
�Well, thanks, J.R., but as tempting as it is, I think I�ll pass. It would be just my luck for someone to show up about that time!�
�Like you did with me?�
�No, I was thinking more along the lines of additional hotel guests. Now that the blizzard has stopped, it could be that more guests will show up. According to the guest registry, there are more guests expected today.�
As one, the three of them turned their heads toward the big picture windows and looked at the heavy accumulation of snow.
�I don�t know, Betty,� J.R. said. �That snow looks like it�s about three feet deep in places. I don�t think a vehicle could get through it.�
�They�ll have to get a snowplow out here to clear off the roads,� Barnaby agreed. �But, being a winter resort, I�m sure the roads will be cleared off soon, and we can surely get to the bottom of this mystery.�
�I found all kinds of activity rooms back there near the pool,� J.R. told them. �And a garage with snowmobiles.�
�I�d love to go snowmobiling!� Betty exclaimed.
�If we can salvage this vacation, I�ll go with you,� J.R. offered. �There�s also some cross-country skis.�
�I think I could handle that, too,� Betty said. �I�d probably break my neck on the slopes, but skiing on a relatively flat surface might be more my speed. What about you, Barnaby? Maybe you�d like to snowmobile with us?�
�I think shuffleboard and billiards are probably more my speed,� he replied.
Betty and J.R. exchanged glances, feeling rather guilty about their insistence on a winter vacation. �I�m sorry, Barnaby,� Betty said, speaking for them both. �I�m afraid when we started discussing this trip, we didn�t take into consideration that you might not have much to do.�
�There is plenty for me to do,� he assured them. �I have to admit, I needed this time away from the office as much as you two did. I�ll just relax in front of the fire with some hot chocolate, and play some billiards and shuffleboard. I�ll be fine.�
�You�re sure?� Betty asked, doubtfully.
�I�m positive. But first, we need to keep checking the phones and see if they�re working yet.�
�Yeah, I guess fun and games is a little premature right now, isn�t it?� J.R. asked. �I think I�ll have another one of those sandwiches,� he added, reaching for the plate in the center of the table.
Go to Act VI