On the ground floor of the San Francisco Hall of Justice, a room – one that was usually bustling with activity – sat deathly quiet. A stainless steel table located in its center lay bare, all the nearby counters had been wiped clean and held only the minimum of items, and the overhead lights were turned to their lowest setting. The most used and intimidating room in the morgue appeared almost serene and inviting, the smell of death and gory visual evidence of the medical examiner’s autopsies effectively and efficiently eliminated with sterile wipes and an industrial strength air fresher.
Behind the glass pane of the room’s observation window and just past its closed wooden blinds, Claire Washburn sat at her desk and slowly worked through a small stack of papers, carefully reading each document before firmly gripping a black ballpoint pen and scrawling her name across the bottom line. Paperwork. She absolutely hated it.
“Hey, what’s up?” asked Jill, her hand resting on the knob of the medical examiner’s office door as the DDA leaned her full weight against its solid surface. She glanced over her shoulder at the autopsy tables and shuddered lightly, creeped out by how quiet and empty the morgue seemed.
Claire jumped in her chair and placed a hand over her chest. She looked up sharply. “Other than you just about giving me a heart attack, you mean?” Claire scolded, but there was some amusement in her voice.
Jill grinned lazily. “You mean you didn’t hear me coming in these heels? This place is dead tonight.”
“No pun intended,” Claire murmured as the pen twirled between her fingers.
A blonde eyebrow rose and fell, but Jill made no further comment on the matter. “I’ll tap dance next time.”
“Now that I’d like to see.”
Jill raked a hand through her white-blonde hair. “So seriously, what’s up? I’m ready to head home and hit the hay.”
“No date with Maggie?” Claire inquired with an innocent tone.
“Not tonight,” Jill responded almost singsong.
“Denise, either?”
Blue eyes narrowed. “Do not make me regret telling you what happened between me and Denise. She was drunk… I was stupid… it’s not going to happen again.” Jill cleared her throat and tried to pretend like the thought didn’t make her stomach ache.
“Hmm,” was all Claire said in response, her expression saying much more.
“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Jill realized with a hint of suspicion. She shook her head. “So, what did you need to see me about?” Jill pushed off the door and crossed the room, settling in comfortably on a worn leather couch. “Not that I’m not happy to be here just to visit.”
Claire tossed her pen onto the center of her desk and leaned back in her chair, resting her elbows on its padded arms as she studied her friend. “You seem to be in a decent mood yourself. Any particular reason?”
“Pete’s in jail. Nikki is back in our lives. I have a beautiful and very hot girlfriend…” Jill smirked. “What’s not to be happy about?”
Claire grinned in return. “I’m not crazy about Hollywood,” she admitted, using Lindsay’s favorite nickname for Jill’s girlfriend. “But I’m glad she’s making you happy.” She watched Jill’s cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink and her smile grew. “That good, huh?”
“What’s good?” Cindy asked, the club’s reporter having overheard Claire’s question as she stepped into the room a couple of strides ahead of her lover. Lindsay just shook her head and followed behind quietly, her ear pressed against her cell phone as she listened to her messages before snapping the phone shut and sliding it into her back pocket.
“Jill’s love life,” Claire teased playfully. “Sounds serious, if you ask me.”
Cindy plopped down right next to Jill. Her eyes danced with excitement for her friend, but then she went completely still when she realized just who it might be that had Jill blushing like a school girl. “And there went my appetite for dinner.”
“Hey!” Jill protested, both pissed and simultaneously amused. Cindy was damn lucky she was so adorable.
Lindsay bit down her lip and looked away. Cindy would never accept Maggie and there was something about that fact that tickled Lindsay to no end. She knew she should try to get her lover to be more accepting of Jill’s girlfriend, but Cindy’s dislike of Maggie stemmed from her love for Lindsay, and Lindsay just couldn’t bring herself to try to change that.
“Sorry,” Cindy proclaimed, sounding anything but. “I adore you, but I’m not crazy about your taste.”
“I dated your girlfriend,” Jill reminded her with an insincere smile. She wondered what Cindy would say if the reporter found out how torn she was between dating Maggie and wondering if there was any way she and Denise could ever make a go of things. Would the reporter think she’d lost her mind, or would Cindy throw her wholehearted support behind Denise? Jill knew it was stupid to think such thoughts about her boss, but it certainly didn’t help that her favorite pastime as of late had been mentally replaying kissing Denise over and over in her mind.
“Oh, yeah.” Cindy sat back and frowned at that realization, not sure what to make of it.
“But Hollywood? Seriously?” Lindsay moaned pitifully and scrunched up her face as if she’d bitten into something bitter. “I just don’t get what you see in her. Unless you like the fact she wants to either arrest me or punch my lights out.” It had taken Lindsay awhile to understand Maggie’s motives and grudgingly accept – kind of - the department’s other female detective as a colleague, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hang out with her after hours. She was pretty damn sure Maggie felt the same way. “Please just say it isn’t so.”
“It isn’t,” Jill said truthfully, quickly turning her attention to Claire and hoping for a successful run around or whatever the hell the deceptive football play was named. She had no desire to discuss Maggie or the two kisses she and Denise had shared, even if her boss had been drunk the first time. “You going to tell us why you called us here?”
Claire stared across at her friend and hesitated briefly before allowing the change in subject and opening the top side drawer of her desk. Reaching inside, she removed an 8”x10” photo and stretched her arm across the length of her desk, laying the picture down on the far edge and turning it around for best effect. There’d be plenty of time to discuss Jill’s love life in the next few days.
“What’s this?” asked Lindsay, turning a trained eye on the photo. She quickly scanned it from top to bottom and left to right, taking in every single detail. “Is this some kind of crime scene?” If it was, she certainly couldn’t spot where any violence had taken place. It was picture perfect, a Utopia of sorts. Nothing was out of place.
Intrigued, Cindy pushed to her feet and crossed the room to stand beside her lover, her hand sliding across Lindsay’s back. “Wow, that’s gorgeous. Are you and Ed taking a vacation?” She moved her gaze from the quaint cabin to the tall luscious trees surrounding it to the bright sun reflecting off waters of a calm, clear lake. Serenity at its purest.
“No, Ed and I aren’t,” Claire paused dramatically and waited until she’d had her friends’ undivided attention. Lindsay was the first to make eye contact, then Jill, and finally Cindy, who had used the brief interlude to take a giant leap off ‘Jumping to Conclusions’ cliff.
“You’re going on vacation with someone else? I thought you and Ed were making progress.”
Claire held back a grin and went with the misconception. “As a matter of fact, I am going with someone else.” She waited for the anticipated gawks and squawks, her friends not disappointing her expectations. Lindsay was the first to react.
“Seriously, Claire? You’re going to throw everything that you’ve worked so hard on away?” She looked down at Claire with disbelief and a healthy dose of disappointment. “Who’s the guy? Someone you work with?” She figured it had to be someone who worked in the building. Claire spent all of her time in the morgue, at home, or with the four of them.
“I’m not going with a guy,” Claire replied matter-of-factly, keeping her facial expression blank. She sunk down deeper in her chair and rested her chin on a balled fist. Never let it be said that she’d pass up a chance to have a little fun at her friends’ expense.
“A woman?!?!” Cindy squeaked, her eyes growing large and her eyebrows scaling into her hairline, looking every bit like a surprised Anime character. “So we’re what?” Her hand flitted around the room, like an exited gay Queen dishing the dirt on someone, and gestured to the four of them. “A lesbian club now?”
Three sets of eyes fixed on the city’s medical examiner and anxiously awaited Claire’s reply. It hadn’t been exactly how Lindsay or Jill would’ve phrased the question, but it had served its purpose.
Claire’s expression remained neutral. “Actually, I plan to spend the next four glorious, stress-free days in the company of…” She paused and finally allowed a grin to break free – a huge shit-eating grin. “…three other women.”
“Three?” Cindy started, her jaw slacking comically and putting the finishing touches on her animated look. She snapped it closed the moment she realized the three women Claire had referred to included herself. “Oh,” she said, “well, that’s different.”
“Glad you think so, skipper.”
Lindsay’s brief chuckle gave way to a deep frown. “The place looks wonderful, Claire, it really does, but I’ve missed too much work lately. I can’t possibly ask Tom for the weekend, much less the Friday before and Monday after.”
“Me either,” Jill chimed in, wishing that wasn’t the case. She really needed time to think, time to just get away for a while and try to make sense of her conflicted feelings and emotions, and she certainly couldn’t ask the one woman who was directly responsible for her current state of confusion to give her a couple of days off. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the photograph.
“Yeah,” sighed Cindy in disappointment. “That would’ve been great.”
“Sooo…” Claire purposely drew out the one syllable word and crossed her arms comfortably over her chest. “If you all could, you’d go?”
“Yes.”
“Sure.”
“You bet.”
Claire’s big grin was back in full force, the light shining from her desk lamp appearing dim in comparison. “Then you better go pack your bags, girls, we leave bright and early in the morning.” She moved the signed documents to the center of her desk and pushed to her feet. “I’ve already cleared it with Tom,” she looked at Lindsay and winked. “Denise,” she smiled at Jill as she walked around her desk. “And your editor, too, Cindy.” With a pert nod, she started for the door and called her parting words over her shoulder. “You’re driving, Lindsay. Pick Jill up at 5:00 and then come around and get me. We’re going camping.”
The stunned trio watched in silence as Claire disappeared through the door, her laughter floating across the silent morgue and filtering back into her office where the three club members stood motionless and stunned.
“We’ve been had,” Jill spoke out loud the exact words the other two had been thinking.
Act I
“Okay, explain to me again why we have to leave at such a God-awful hour?” Lindsay grunted in an exaggerated fashion as she angled a medium-sized suitcase against the back seat of her Jeep in an attempt to maximize packing space. Spatial reasoning had never been one of her better qualities. She’d always left the packing to Tom. He’d seemed to think it was his job anyway.
“Oh stop it, Linz. It’s not like you’ve never been awake at 5AM before,” Cindy chastised her lover, even though she could barely contain the smile that threatened to spread across her face. She couldn’t wait to get away and spend some time with their friends. They needed this. They needed to get away from the city, from their jobs, and most especially from the last year of hell they’d all endured. A weekend in the woods sounded like heaven and Cindy was struggling to contain her enthusiasm around her grumpy partner.
Mumbling a few choice obscenities, Lindsay just tossed their last bag into the back of the Jeep, making sure to leave enough room for Martha to lie down comfortably. She could reorganize their things after they’d arrived at Jill’s.
“Wait, you forgot this stuff,” Cindy said, smiling sweetly as she handed Lindsay a few more bags. Lindsay just stared down at her cargo.
“You can’t be serious. Cindy, we still need to get Jill’s and Claire’s stuff in here. It’s only four days, not four months.”
“Well, I like to be prepared. I was a Girl Scout, bet you didn’t know that?” she responded seriously as she placed some bungee cords in Lindsay’s hand and kissed her lover lightly on the cheek.
“Well, that explains a lot,” Lindsay muttered, finding herself smiling against her better judgment. She fingered the colorful straps and frowned. “What the hell are these for?”
“Wow, you are slow in the morning, aren’t you, Inspector? You figure it out while I take Martha for a quick walk.” Cindy turned to walk away but glanced back momentarily to check on Lindsay. The older woman continued to stare down at the cords in her hand. Laughing out loud, Cindy waited until Lindsay looked up, and then she pointed at the roof of the SUV.
“You have got to be kidding me. Why do I get the feeling this is going to turn out like some National Lampoon’s Vacation movie?” Lindsay grumbled as she started heaving bags onto the roof.
Cindy’s light chuckles came to a screeching halt, and she frantically sought out Martha. The dog was lying quietly on the grass and looked back at her with big brown eyes. “Um, Lindsay? Let’s be sure that no one ties Martha to the bumper at any time during the trip, okay?”
A blue bag sailed over the top of the Jeep.
Fifteen minutes and a few flying bungee cord bruises later, the couple was finally on their way to pick up Jill. Martha sat on Cindy’s lap with her head poked out the window, her pink tongue lolling out happily as her ears flapped in the wind. She didn’t know how she’d obtained this place of honor, but she wasn’t about to act unhappy about it. Besides, when they picked up her other person, she'd probably have to move into the back of the Jeep. Her ears perked up instantly when she recognized the blonde standing on the curb ahead and she barked her greeting.
“Hey, Martha,” Jill cooed as the Jeep rolled to a stop beside her. She reached out and gently patted the smiling Border Collie on the head. “Ready to get out of the city where you can run and play?”
“Good Lord, Jill. Did you and Cindy leave anything behind?” Lindsay asked as she walked around the Jeep and spotted the neat stack of Tumi luggage on the edge of the sidewalk. “You can’t take all of this stuff. Martha needs to ride in the back. There’s no room.”
Jill glanced over at an obviously happy Martha and grinned; she had the perfect solution. “She can ride on Cindy’s lap.”
“Oh no, she can’t,” Lindsay said, shaking her head vehemently. She pointed at the entrance to Jill’s building. “You’re going to take some of these bags back upstairs.”
Jill eyed her luggage and listed a mental inventory of its contents in her head. Everything she’d packed was essential. Putting her hands on her hips, she readied for a war of wills. “No... I’m not.”
Lindsay stepped closer to her friend. “Yes, you are.” She edged even closer and put on her most intimidating detective face. It wasn’t as effective on Jill, however, especially with Lindsay’s gun packed inside her duffle bag, and the fact that Lindsay was wearing a t-shirt professing that ‘Detectives Do It Undercover’ certainly didn’t help her bullying tactics either.
“I’m sure Martha won’t mind riding in the front seat,” Jill assured, glancing over at the smiling dog. “See, look at her; she thinks it’s a great idea.” Jill pointed toward the happy-looking pooch, hoping that Lindsay would have a change of heart once she saw Martha’s sweet face.
“She won’t be happy in that position for more than an hour. She needs room to stretch out,” Lindsay returned knowingly. She’d actually allowed Martha to ride in the front seat once when she’d started on one of her long drives to Texas and the dog was soon begging to climb into the back. “You willing to listen to her whine most of the drive because that’s what’s she going to do.”
Jill looked at Martha and couldn’t imagine putting her through anything that would cause her any upset. The club’s mascot didn’t deserve to have to suffer after what she’d gone through when Pete had poisoned her and left her to die.
“Okay, just give me a few minutes to sort my things,” Jill finally conceded as she headed for her bags to try to consolidate as best she could. “Hey, maybe Claire can...” she started but was cut off by Lindsay who’d already figured out what her friend was about to propose.
“No, Claire gets just as much room as the rest of us, more even. She’s got the food and cooking gear.”
Sighing dramatically, Jill removed her gigantic makeup case from her carryon bag and slipped it under her arm. It would just have to ride at her feet. There was no way she was returning to civilization on Monday without makeup.
Claire was impatiently waiting on the curb when Lindsay’s Jeep finally turned the corner and came into sight. She’d already called Cindy twice to find out what was holding the club up and hadn’t been surprised that their delay had revolved around Jill and her luggage. She’d specifically instructed the lawyer to pack only what was necessary but figured she’d leave Lindsay to deal with any problems. It had taken the inspector much longer to deal with Jill than Claire had expected.
“About time you got here,” Claire grumbled as she reached down for her single, compact suitcase. The small piece of luggage was flanked on both sides by two perfectly packaged bags of groceries on its left and a taller bag of cooking utensils – also neatly packed – on its right. Claire wasn’t taking the chance that the cabin wouldn’t have pots and pans to cook in.
“Yeah, well, Barbie here wanted to bring her entire wardrobe,” Lindsay complained as she stepped from the car to help her friend load her things. “I think she had Skipper packed in one of her bags.”
Claire laughed as she hoisted her suitcase into the back of Lindsay’s Jeep. “Ah, inflatable Skipper. I’d forgotten about that model,” she teased, making certain that her voice carried over the luggage and into the backseat.
“Hey!” Jill protested weakly, her mood having lightened considerably despite having to leave most of her wardrobe in her apartment. Once they’d pulled away from the curb and started for Claire’s, giddiness had bubbled up inside her and she’d found herself excited about the prospect of spending four uninterrupted days with her friends. “No Skipper for me,” she said, pausing purposely. “It’s Twist ‘n Turn Barbie all the way, baby!”
A smile blossomed on Lindsay’s face as she edged the last of the bags around the area she’d cordoned off for Martha. The dog looked up at her and returned her smile. Patting the canine on the head, Lindsay closed the rear door and moved around to the driver’s side.
Claire followed her friend and climbed into the seat next to Jill. Fiddling with her seat belt, she looked at Jill with a gleam in her eye.
“Poor Ken’s always been more of an accessory, hasn’t he? Kind of an afterthought.”
Martha barked and the car erupted with laughter as Lindsay wheeled away from the curb.
***
“Um, Lindsay?” Cindy said pitifully as she eyed her Double Big Gulp. Her lover had warned her against buying the super-sized drink, but Cindy had insisted that she’d ‘nurse’ the ginormous container of Dr. Pepper until they’d stopped for an early lunch. This marked the third time in the past hour that she’d had to ask Lindsay to exit the highway for an unscheduled potty break.
Lindsay sighed unhappily and rolled an eye toward the guilty culprit: an empty, 64 ounce white Styrofoam cup with bright red lettering. She’d only stopped at the 7-11 on the outskirts of San Francisco because she’d felt guilty that she and Cindy hadn’t had time to eat breakfast and had thought that a small snack would tie them over until lunch. She’d forgotten about Cindy’s definition of ‘small’ when it came to drinks and junk food.
“Did you have to drink the whole thing?” Lindsay asked grumpily as she flipped on her turn signal and eased into the right lane, readying for an exit in approximately 2.5 miles and, according to a very informative sign they’d just passed, a McDonald’s. She’d make sure to accompany Cindy inside the restaurant to ensure that her lover wouldn’t return with another drink.
Claire piped up from the backseat before Cindy could formulate a reply. “I kind of have to go, too.” She didn’t really, but she’d already listened to Lindsay ask the very same question twice before and figured Cindy’s answer wasn’t going to change. It seemed that whenever Cindy was cooped up in a car, she got bored and, when she got bored, she ate and drank and then drank and ate. Frankly, Claire was surprised the young reporter wasn’t suffering from a stomach ache.
“Me, too,” Jill chimed in but, unlike Claire, she’d meant it. The coffee she’d purchased at the first place they’d made a pit stop was making itself known and in a very big way. She’d kept her mouth shut, however, not particularly caring to listen to Lindsay’s views on what her friend referred to as TBS – tiny bladder syndrome.
Lindsay glanced in the rearview mirror and tried to make eye-contact with her friends, but short of twisting in her seat or craning her neck at an almost impossible angle, the faces of the two women stayed just out of sight. She couldn’t gage from the tones of their voices if they were being sincere or just coming to Cindy’s aid, although it really didn’t matter. Even though she bitched and complained about the pit stops, she’d never let Cindy suffer needlessly.
“So, where do you think we should stop to have lunch?” Lindsay asked, surprising everyone with her subject change. Claire leaned forward in her seat to answer; she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I think Bakersfield may be our best bet. After we leave the Interstate, the pickings will be slim.”
“Describe slim,” Jill said with a decided interest in her tone. “Are you saying there won’t be any restaurants close to where we’re staying?”
Re-crossing her legs, Cindy clamped them together tightly and glanced over her shoulder. “Did you somehow miss the part about camping?”
“Actually, that was the only part I heard,” Jill replied, realizing now that she had no idea where they were going. It hadn’t mattered at the time, but perhaps it was something she should have asked. “I just figured we’d be staying in one of those resorts where the cabins are spread out far and wide around the grounds of a large commercialized area.” She shrugged. “You know, having solitude at the cabin but, when we wanted to get a bite to eat or maybe mingle with other people, the hotels and restaurants would be nearby.”
Lindsay shot a look in the mirror and almost missed her exit. She slowed the Jeep and angled toward the feeder road and the large yellow M at the base of the ramp before she added her two cents. “You saw the photo, Jill. Did you see any hotels or restaurants in the background?”
“Oh, thank God! Mickey D’s,” Cindy exclaimed loudly, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt when she’d spotted the restaurant. She squirmed in her seat and moved her hand to the door, readying to shoot out of the Jeep the second Lindsay pulled to a stop.
Claire chuckled lightly and pretended to be equally excited. “Finally,” she said, adding a touch of relief in her voice to complete her ruse. “Jill, I’ll fill you in on everything after we’ve had our break.” She watched in amusement as light dawned in her friend’s blue eyes and Jill fumbled for the door handle.
The Jeep’s tires had barely touched the curb when two doors shot open and a couple of blurs raced to the restaurant doors. Claire laughed out loud as she eased out of the car in a more sedate manner. Shouldering her purse, she closed the door and followed her friends.
Lindsay sat quietly behind the wheel and contemplated the weekend ahead of her. “Be ready for anything in the next few days, Martha.”
The dog raised her ears but stayed silent as she continued to rest her chin on her front paws. She wouldn’t expect anything else.
***
“When I was six, I wanted to be a stewardess. I thought it would be great fun to work in the sky,” Cindy replied in answer to Claire’s question to the club as to what they’d each wanted to be when they ‘grew up.’
Lindsay frowned. “I thought you wanted to be a cop like your dad.”
“That was later,” Cindy declared dismissively. “When I was little, I wanted to fly the friendly skies. I like the term stewardess, too. Why’d they have to change it to flight attendant anyway?”
“Yeah, I think the word fits perfectly and there’s always the male version of steward. Maybe it was just too old English or something,” Claire said with a shrug. “Honestly though, I can’t say that it’s something I’d ever wanted to do, but I really do admire those people for what they have to put up with. Nothing quite like being stuck miles above the ground in an airtight tin can with nowhere to go to escape any problems that might arise.”
Jill held her tongue and slid her feet further underneath Cindy’s seat to stretch her legs. She’d never given a single thought to being a flight attendant, although she’d freely admit to thoughts of ‘doing’ one in the air - and numerous times at that. She slammed her eyes closed when a vision of loveliness formed in her mind, one of Denise clad in a starched light blue shirt tucked neatly into a very short, form-fitting navy skirt and leaning over to offer a drink. Having actually glimpsed what lay underneath her boss’s shirt, her imagination didn’t have to wander very far from reality and it soared freely without restraint. Stiff cotton morphed into soft silk and soft silk into smooth, creamy skin and Jill was well on her way to ‘Mile High, USA.’
“Jill?” Claire said in concern, reaching over and patting her friend on the hand. Jill looked flushed, her eyes appeared a bit on the glassy side, and she’d been unusually quiet in the last several miles, seeming to be content just to listen to Cindy prattle on and on about the various changes in politically correct vocabulary terms through the years, some for the good and others not so much. “Honey, you feeling okay?”
“Huh?” Jill reluctantly pulled herself free from a mass of tangled limbs and hands and mouths that blazed determined paths across hot, slick skin. Her eyes fluttered open just before she’d been able to touchdown at her final destination.
Claire feathered her fingers beneath Jill’s damp bangs. “You feel feverish. Do you hurt anywhere?” One thing they certainly didn’t need was for all of them to come down with the flu. Claire just hoped it wasn’t H1N1.
“What?” Jill muttered as she slowly eased back into the present. She gazed unseeingly outside the car window as a road sign declaring Bakersfield to be seventy miles ahead swam into view. “I’m fine; just tired, I think.” Her stomach growled loudly and she gave Clair a sheepish look. “And hungry, too.”
“You sure?” The doctor in Claire had to be certain that Jill wasn’t trying to hide her discomfort and was being totally honest with her. Hardheadedness ran deep in their club.
Jill reached up and eased Claire’s hand from her forehead. She wrapped her hand around her friend’s and smiled. “I’m sure. Soon as I get a good meal, I’ll be fine.”
“Food does sound good,” Cindy agreed as she eyed a few billboards that promoted several upcoming gas stations and fast food restaurants. They’d only stopped once since McDonald’s to gas up and Lindsay hadn’t allowed her out of the car.
“Bakersfield is only an hour away. If you eat something now, you won’t be hungry later,” Lindsay cautioned, having noted the path her lover’s focus had taken. She knew full well, however, that very little actually spoiled Cindy’s appetite. “It’ll be worth the wait,” she promised, hoping to distract her lover from the billboard ads.
Jill bit her lip. She wondered if Lindsay had any idea how motherly she sounded with all of them. Pointing it out to Lindsay might not be the best idea, however. Apparently that was why Claire wanted Lindsay to drive. It gave the medical examiner a break from that role. The notion almost made Jill chuckle.
The DDA glanced around the Jeep, taking in her friends. She was tired, hungry, uncomfortable and the slightest bit horny, but she wouldn’t have traded where she was for anything.
Cindy frowned unhappily at Lindsay’s suggestion. “What will we do until then?” They’d already tried the alphabet game shortly after their McDonald’s stop but had quit when Cindy had gotten frustrated with Jill’s words. The DDA had taken great joy in adding a sexual slant to the game, even using slang and made-up words when she couldn’t come up with what Cindy had termed as ‘legal and acceptable’ words for the age-old car game. It was Jill’s use of joygasm that had brought the game to a screeching halt. Cindy hadn’t accepted her friend’s explanation that it had been used by the Riddler in Batman Forever and, therefore, should be allowed. Jill had replied that Cindy should have been a lawyer.
“Hey, how about a riddle?” Jill suggested hurriedly before Cindy could come up with another idea. Unwittingly, she borrowed a tactic from the very individual that had caught Cindy’s ire earlier. “I’ve got a good one.”
“Oh, I like riddles.” Cindy grinned widely and twisted around in her seat to better hear her friend. “What is it?”
Jill leaned back and stared out of the window, trying to remember the exact wording. “Okay, three men go into a hotel. The man behind the desk tells them their room will cost $30, so each man pays $10 and then they head to their room. A while later, the man behind the desk realizes the room is only $25 and he sends the bellboy to the three guys' room with a $5 refund. On the way, the bellboy couldn't figure out how to split $5 evenly between the three men, so he decides to give each man a $1 and keep the other $2 for himself. This meant that the three men each paid $9 for the room, which is a total of $27 and, with the $2 that the bellboy kept, the tally moved to $29. So... where is the other dollar?”
A deafening silence fell over the car as the others contemplated the riddle. Cindy faced forward again, her eyes narrowing as her mind turned to finding a solution. Claire eased her elbow to the padded armrest of her door and leaned her cheek against her fist, already in deep thought. Lindsay continued to watch the white line of the highway but her focus was on the missing dollar.
Smiling, Jill closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat, grateful that she’d be able to get in a good nap while the others pondered the mystery. She knew she should feel guilty, but she just couldn’t play another one of Cindy’s games today. Her redheaded friend was cute as all hell, but she had too much energy. How Lindsay kept up with the reporter was a mystery, but Jill envied them both all the same as the repetitive roar of the road lulled her to sleep.
***
“I still don’t get where the dollar went,” Cindy complained as she poured a generous amount of Ranch dressing over her salad. She’d spent the entire drive to Bakersfield trying to solve the riddle and hadn’t been happy with Jill’s explanation of the solution. A true riddle always had a justifiable answer and incorporated every single component of the original riddle into its conclusion.
Lindsay reached across the table for a pack of crackers and a package of butter. “There is no missing dollar, Cindy. The men spent $27, of which $25 went to the room and $2 to the sticky-fingered bellboy. You can’t add the $2 the bellboy stole to the $27 the men spent as the $2 actually came directly from the $27 the men spent, with the other $25 going toward the room.”
Cindy’s head threatened to spin off her shoulders. “But there is a missing dollar. $30 divided by 3 is $10. Each man was refunded $1 which means they each paid $9 instead. 9 times 3 is 27. The bellboy has $2. That’s $29.”
Claire popped a mushroom into her mouth and kept silent by carefully chewing the morsel into nothingness. She’d only complicated matters when she’d tried to explain her reasoning that $25 divided by 3 was approximately $8.33 and that the men should’ve been refunded $1.67 with one receiving $1.66. By keeping the change, the bellboy ended up with the men’s pocket change of $2. So, all the money had been accounted for or so Claire had thought, but Cindy was like Martha with a bone.
“Cindy, think of it more as a trick puzzle,” Jill explained as she took a sip of her wine. She was sorely tempted to gulp down the glass and order an entire bottle. “I just thought it would pass the time more quickly.” And Jill really needed the peace and quiet, too.
“Then you should’ve said it was a puzzle, not a riddle,” Cindy replied as she forcefully stabbed a crouton. Everybody knew that puzzles often relied on trickery and manipulation of known data.
“Well, it’s all moot anyway,” Claire said with a slight grin. “There’s no way three men would’ve stayed in the same room in the first place.”
“That is so true,” Jill agreed, shaking her head in memory of various overnight conferences she’d attended. “Women are always expected to room together, but men usually room alone. It’s as if they’re afraid they’re gonna get cooties or something.” Of course, there were those times when she shared a room with one of her male colleagues and much more than cooties had been exchanged.
“Weird how they can stand right next to each other to pee but try to put them in the same room, even with two beds, and they go ballistic,” Lindsay said with a confirming nod. “I remember this one time when I had to work and Tom had to go to one of his family reunions without me. He and his cousin’s husband were assigned the same hotel room. My ex-mother-in-law had thought it was a logical idea since neither of their wives could attend. Tom slept in his car.”
A smile crept onto Cindy’s face. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope, and it gets better,” Lindsay replied as a deep
chuckle bubbled up and forced its way past her lips. “The reunion was in Minnesota… in the winter.
It snowed during the night and they had to dig Tom out of his car the
next morning.”
The waitress arrived to a round of laughter from her customers and she smiled in relief as she began to serve their plates of food. With the mood the foursome had been in when they’d first come in, she was certain that her tip would be a lousy one, but now it appeared that things had taken a turn in her favor, especially since the hot-looking blonde had winked at her.
“You have no shame,” Claire whispered softly to Jill as she eyed her grilled salmon, gently laid to rest on its bed of rice pilaf. Her mouth watered just thinking about tasting the delicious-looking meal.
Jill alternated her gaze between the cute brunette waitress and her bowl of shrimp étouffée - both looked absolutely scrumptious. It was just too bad that King’s Canyon National Park was miles and miles from the restaurant. At least she could take some solace in the fact that she’d be spending the next few days with her friends at a veritable paradise on Earth.
The DDA glanced up and watched as Cindy held a forkful of salad up for Lindsay to consume. The taller woman rolled her eyes, but did as commanded. Jill smiled a little sadly and took a bite of her own meal. Maybe by the time the weekend was over she would know which woman in her life she wanted to spend more time with. The question was whether either of them could give her the kind of love Cindy and Lindsay so obviously had for each other.
***
