“Something we can’t do without.” City opened her purse. “Here’s our room key and number. Why don’t you go up and make yourself at home? This’ll just take a few minutes.”
“You both have to go?”
Giggles again.
“I get it,” said Rood. “A chick deal, like restrooms.”
They took a couple steps back toward the entrance. Country stopped and turned around. “Oh, one more thing. If anyone asks, your name is Serge.”
“Serge?”
“That’s my uncle.”
“Why do I have to say I’m your uncle? For that matter, who’s going to ask? Is someone else staying with you?”
“No,” said City. “And it’ll probably never come up.”
“That’s right,” said Country. “Shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Forget about it.”
“Wait a minute,” said Rood. “I don’t want to get in the middle of a situation. Is this like a jealous boyfriend or something?”
“Or something.”
Rood fished the magnetic room key from his pocket. “Maybe I ought to take a rain check.”
Country went over and wrapped sultry arms around Rood’s neck. “Look, it is my boyfriend. And he is jealous. Very jealous. But he’s also totally harmless. I’m not worried about him doing something crazy; I’m worried about him breaking up with me.”
“Guy’s a pussycat,” City said from behind. “Once he thought my boyfriend was flirting with Country, and it took us twenty minutes to stop his crying.”
“He’s got a good heart,” said Country, tightening her arms around Rood’s neck. “But sometimes I need a real man.”
“I help where I can,” said Rood. “My name’s Sal.”
“Serge.”
“Right, Serge. How long you going to be?”
Automatic doors slid open. “Back before you know it.”
A rabbit argued with a Martian.
Coleman giggled on the couch and popped a beer. “Serge, come quick! This is the one where Bugs goes to the moon and saves our planet. It’s so realistic.”
“I’m busy.” He grabbed his cell and started to dial. He stopped and looked at it. “Battery’s dead! Of all times-not now!” He ripped apart his suitcase. “Where’s that damn charger?…”
“What about the room phone?”
“Might be traced…” He snatched car keys from the dresser.
“Where are you going?” asked Coleman.
“… You have stolen the D-12 modulator…”
“Find a pay phone.” He ran for the door, unbolting locks. “But where are pay phones these days with all the cells? Now I’ll be late and screw up the Master Plan. I’m so stupid!”
“Why don’t you just use Andy’s phone?”
Serge slowly walked back. “Just about to think of that.” He reached the dresser and picked up the disposable phone he’d confiscated at the Casino kiddie pool.
“… Earth to Bugs, come in…”
Serge dialed. “Hello, is this the anonymous Crime-Stopper Tip Reward Hotline?… Oh, I’ve got a tip all right! Real doozy! Someone you been looking all over for, possibly committing a crime as we speak. Here’s the address…”
Bugs clung to the tip of a crescent moon.
“… Thanks,” said Serge. “And may I say your phone manners have been impeccable, not like those 911 operators who never take me seriously when they’re tearing down a landmark. If that isn’t an emergency, what is?”
“… Get me out of here!!!!!…”
Serge plopped on the sofa next to Coleman. “What did I miss?”
“The whole thing.”
“Dang, and it was one of my favorites.”
“Another’s coming on.”
“Righteous! I love this one!”
Coleman grabbed another beer. “What about that lookout guy you got in your trunk?”
“He’ll keep,” said Serge. “Pump up the volume.”
Rood pressed an elevator button. His mind fluttered through porno reels of his deepest fantasies.
The appointed floor was empty except for room service trays. Rood whistled down the hall. He stopped in front of a door and checked the number against the magnetic key’s sleeve.
Rood went inside the dark unit and closed the door behind him. He felt along the wall for a light switch. Before he could find one, a lamp came on across the room.
“Who are you?” asked Rood.
Guillermo sat in a cushy chair, gun resting on the arm. “You know who I am.”
“Let me explain.”
“Please do.”
“I’m Serge.”
“I know.”
Back at Bahia Cabana.
Serge and Coleman cackled through another Looney Tunes.
The door opened.
City grabbed a wine cooler and plopped into a chair. “Better have reservations at the Four Seasons for what we went through.”
“Serge, are you listening?” said Country.
No answer.
She stepped in front of the television. “I’m talking to you!”
Serge tilted to the side. “Could you please move? You’re blocking-”
“After all we just did!” said Country. “And you’re watching fuckin’ cartoons?”
“But it’s a classic,” said Serge. “The one where the guy doing demolition finds a singing frog in the cornerstone. Everybody’s doin the Michigan rag!…”
“Un-freakin’-believable. Not even a thank-you.”
Serge looked up. “When you’re right, you’re right.” He stood. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” asked Country.
“To show my gratitude.”
He led her into the bedroom and closed the door.
Another typical round of female shrieking. “… Oh, yes!… Harder!… Faster!… Didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve gotten even better!… Dear God!… Is it because of what you’ve got around the base of your cock?…”
Serge thrust again. “That would be my guess.”
“… Ohhhh!… Ohhhh!… Yes!… Yes!… What is that thing?…”
Another thrust. “I enlarged the hole in the middle of my favorite View-Master reel of the Everglades.”
“… Don’t stop!… Oh, God!… I’m coming!… I’m coming!!!!!!!”
The ecstatic yelling came through the wall into the living room. Coleman turned and grinned drunkenly at City.
An empty wine cooler glanced off his forehead.
“Ow!”
In the bedroom, Country tried catching her breath after going off like a string of black-cat firecrackers. She wiped sweat from the blond hair matted across her face. “That was beyond incredible…”-still panting hard-“… The best I ever-”
“Just wait till round two.”
“Round two? I don’t think I can take any more.”
“You’ll take it and like it.”
He jumped up and went across the room in the dark.
“Where are you going?”
“To get more inspiration.”
Country strained to see in the blackness. “What are those sounds?”
“Shhhhhh!”
He returned to the bed, immediately picking up where they’d left off.
“… Oh, God!… Yes!… Yes!… Oh-… Hold on. Time out! Time out!… What the hell’s hitting me in the face?”
“Uh… nothing.”
More thrusts.
“Shit! You got me in the eye!” Country rolled over and clicked on the bedside lamp. She stared at Serge’s chest, then up at his face.
“What in the fuck?”
“Is something the matter?”
“What’s all that crap hanging from your neck?”
He looked down. “Oh, Tarzan’s five gold medals.”
“Gold medals?”
“From the Olympics.”
She looked at his chest again. “They’re just those chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil that you taped string to.”
Serge looked down again. A pause. “No, they’re not.”
“Yes, they are!” Country snatched one off a string, peeled the foil and took a bite.
A gasp. “The hundred-meter freestyle!”
“Sorry…” She set the coin on the nightstand. “Didn’t mean for you to have a cow.”