Let the Music Play - 22. Revelations

Staring out the window of the plane, squinting against the harsh light of dawn, Brandon sat mesmerized by the curling strings and loops of white set against varying azure and turquoise. Feeling Chase’s hand in his own, Brandon said, “I never knew coral reefs could look so spectacular. That must be part of the Great Barrier Reef. I can’t wait to see it up close.”

Jerry, too, was peering out of a window, sitting in the seat in front of Brandon’s. He’d seen the sight many times, but it was a view of which he would never tire.

The rest of the party, exhausted from the long journey, were still asleep in their plush first-class seats, but that would not be the case for long; they were just over an hour from their destination, and breakfast was being served.

Brandon looked into Chase’s eyes, still hardly able to believe all that had happened in recent months. “This is all like a dream. Some days, I’m scared I’ll wake up. You, the band, singing, traveling, it’s all just been so perfect,” he said, as they ate what he’d found to be a surprisingly good meal for airline food.

The pilot’s voice coming over the intercom interrupted his reverie with the welcome news that they were about to begin their descent into Brisbane, which began to rouse the last sleepers from their slumber.

After the plane pulled up to the gate, Jerry was the first to leave his seat when the jetway made contact with the plane's fuselage. Hurrying forward, he helped a stewardess remove Eric’s scooter from a storage closet. As soon as the exit door was open, he, with the aid of the stewardess, carried the folded scooter onto the jetway. Snapping the seat and controls into place, he sat in it to test the motor, before hopping out as Eric hobbled off the plane. Slipping into the scooter’s seat, Eric, feeling very grateful, tried his best to disguise his unease regarding Jerry as he said, “This thing is great; those crutches I had would have killed me with all these long walks.”

“Anytime, my dear boy,” Jerry replied with a smile, as the rest of Instinct, plus Helen, Barbra, and Günter, joined them in the jetway to begin the walk to passport control.

Sticking close to Eric, Jerry waited as Helen handled most of the paperwork with an airline official hovering nearby to offer any needed help to the VIP group.

Brandon waited with Chase while his friends, one by one, walked up to the booth and handed their passports to the immigration officer. Eric, for once acting restrained, motored up and handed his passport over, waiting while the officer swiped it through a reader and then took a quick look at the visa before handing the passport back with a smile. Jon and Chase passed through next, and Brandon took his turn, expecting a similar hassle-free entry. The immigration-control officer, when done with the passport, handed it back, along with a notepad and pen. Brandon looked up in confusion as the young officer asked sheepishly, “Could I possibly get your autograph, Mr. Wolfe?”

Signing with a flourish, Brandon smiled as he handed the notepad back and walked towards the rest of his group. Eric wheeled his scooter around, narrowly missing Brandon’s foot as he pulled up alongside to say, “Get used to it, dude. You’re the lead singer. That’s why he asked for your autograph and not ours.”

Brandon shook his head and grinned. “Damn, Eric, what did you do, read my mind?”

Racing off on his scooter, Eric replied over his shoulder with a grin, “Nah, dude, I just know you. It was obvious what you were thinking.” Jon leapt aside as Eric began chasing him with the scooter. With Eric and Jon out in front, laughing like maniacs as Eric chased Jon, and with Jerry hovering close to Eric, they all made their way towards baggage claim.

The airline, as many carriers do, took pains to cater to VIP customers, and baggage claim was no exception; instead of waiting for their bags to appear on the moving stainless-steel conveyors, the bags for Instinct and company arrived on trolleys, complete with uniformed porters, and everyone proceeded to customs and quarantine.

The airline official confirmed that they had nothing to declare, and after a fast pass by a small drug-sniffer dog that wore a jacket emblazoned with Australia’s flag, the luggage was loaded onto a conveyor for a quick x-ray examination. All hand luggage went as well, with Eric’s scooter being the sole exception. With that done, they walked out into the main terminal with Eric motoring along behind, having desisted, for the moment, in his pursuit of his elder brother.

There were, as Helen was disgusted to see, two paparazzi waiting. Somehow, she guessed, they’d found out on which flight the group would arrive, but that was something Helen had both expected and for which she had prepared.

Helen led everyone to the curb, where the local Sheraton Hotel’s shuttle-van was waiting for them as planned. Everyone in the group tried to ignore the hovering shutterbugs as they snapped away, and Helen hoped that the pests got a good look at the hotel logo emblazoned on the side of the van. Once all their luggage was stowed and everybody aboard, the driver pulled away. Seated in the left-front seat, Helen kept a wary eye out for any sign of pursuit. Seeing none, she told the driver, “Your employer should have let you know that we aren’t going to the Sheraton at this time.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the driver replied, “I was told to take you wherever you wanted to go.”

“Make sure we aren’t being followed, and if we’re not, take us to the domestic terminal’s parking garage,” Helen replied with a smile.

Slightly confused, the driver asked, “Do you mean the undercover long-term parking, ma’am?” Helen nodded to confirm that she did, and made a mental note to be more mindful of the linguistic differences regarding the Australians’ use of English.

Eric, sitting in back, grinned as he asked, “You’ve got a plan to ditch the scum, don’t you?”

“You bet I do.”

A few minutes later, the hotel shuttle pulled into the parking garage, and following Helen’s direction pulled in beside a small mini-bus with tinted windows. After transferring the luggage and Eric’s scooter, Helen told the Sheraton’s driver, “Head straight for your hotel and go into the private entrance. They’ll block off any view from outside, so just make it look like you’re taking us there.” Helen handed the driver a green banknote; an Australian hundred-dollar bill. With a grateful nod, he accepted the plastic note and then pulled away, as Helen turned to climb into the waiting mini-bus.

The driver, a blonde woman whom Helen judged to be close to her own age, shoved back her shades and said in a thick Australian accent, “G'day and welcome to Australia! The Bunyip Beach Resort is just over three hour’s drive up the coast from here, depending on traffic, about forty miles past Noosa near Rainbow Beach, and there you’ll have all the privacy you need. We’re situated on over two hundred acres, and it’s all private, guests only.”

With a shallow cough, Jerry interrupted to ask Helen, “I thought you were staying at the Sheraton, so I booked a room there. I suppose I need to make other arrangements? I do need to deliver the scooter soon...”

“Don’t worry, Jerry, we’ve arranged some accommodations for you.” Helen said with a smile

Helen glanced in the door mirror again, hoping that her plan would work and the paparazzi would, aided by a few leaks, spend their time on a wild goose chase. As the mini-bus drove north along the Bruce Highway, Helen was relieved to see no sign of pursuit, and relaxed enough to engage the driver in conversation. “I’ve seen the brochures, and I hope the resort is as nice as it looks. Have you worked there long?”

The driver glanced up from the road to reply, “I’ve worked there since the day I opened it. My name’s Judy and I’m the owner. I inherited the land and the first few years were a rough go, but I’ve done my damnedest to make the place the best it can be. There’s only twenty guest cottages so we keep it quiet and exclusive, and we’re a top-end resort, everything’s first class but laid back. We focus a lot on recreation; there’s jet-skis, four swimming pools, a natural sand beach, surfing, volleyball, golf, you name it. We’ve got a gourmet restaurant, a bar, a sauna, and if what you want isn’t there, just ask.”

Helen could see the pride Judy felt for her resort, and Helen replied, “Thanks for coming to pick us up personally. As I said in my e-mails, we need privacy. The paparazzi and the press can’t find out we’re here. We need a vacation, not harassment.”

Judy nodded as she changed lanes. “No worries, you aren’t our first famous guests. My employees know that if they disclose anything about our guests and I find out, they won’t get off with an earbashing: they’ll get the sack.”

Due to the jet lag, it wasn’t long before everyone except Judy was sound asleep.

Chase woke up first, as the mini-bus pulled onto a gravel road, passing between rows of palm trees which bordered a thick row of tall, green bamboo. The bamboo thicket, Chase noted, made an excellent barrier between the grounds of the resort and the road. He was thrilled, relishing the chance to unwind and soak up the sun with Brandon by his side.

The others started to wake up as the mini-bus stopped to wait for a huge wrought-iron gate to motor open, and Chase looked up at the sign welcoming them to the Bunyip Beach Resort. As they drove into the main compound, Chase was impressed; it looked clean and modern, but had a very tropical feel, with palm-thatched roofs covering some of the buildings. The tour bus crunched over the crushed coral as Judy pulled up next to a row of four guest cottages, which were shaded by swaying coconut palms, and surrounded by a green lawn which tapered onto a gleaming white beach a few yards away. The muted roar of surf filled the air as they emerged from the van into the hot, thick, and humid air.

Helen took charge of assigning the cottages. “Starting at the end, we’ll have Brandon and Chase in one, Jon and Eric in the next, Barbra and I in the third, and Günter and Jerry in the fourth.”

Judy waited while two of her staff began unloading the luggage, and then said to Brandon and Chase, “The end cottage only has one bedroom, but there are two beds. I hope that will be all right? We’re booked solid so I can’t offer to put you in a different cottage...”

Helen interrupted with a wave, “These will be fine, I knew about that when I booked them.” Helen noticed that the staff were picking the bags up, and not wanting to deal with any confusion, Helen said, “Please just leave the bags here on the walkway. They aren’t marked, so we’ll all get our own.”

“I’ll need to be leaving tomorrow, as I have urgent business to attend. Is there somewhere I can rent a car?” Jerry asked.

Judy shook her head, “Fraid not, mate. The nearest places are about half an hour from here, down in Noosa, but there’s a big golf tourney on the Coast so they’re likely booked out. I can ring around and see what I can find you, though there might be a delay.”

“No matter, I’ll call a business associate and have him pick me up.” Jerry replied casually, though Helen thought he looked a little uneasy.

Trying to be helpful, Helen said, “Jerry, you need a vacation too. I know you do. Stay here for a few days at least, so you can relax. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Rounding a corner and leaving everyone’s sight, Eric wasted no time. He aimed his scooter towards the large buildings at the center of the resort, its wheels churning over the rough crushed coral. Jerry had watched him go, unconsciously shifting his weight from side to side. Helen chimed in to say, “Don’t worry, if Eric harms that scooter he’ll pay for it out of his pocket. He should have his cast off tomorrow morning and won’t need the scooter after that. I’ve already made an appointment with the clinic in town.”

Replying with a smile and picking up his suitcase, Jerry said, “I suppose it can wait until morning.”

While everyone else got settled into the cottages, Eric made a beeline for the structure that had caught his roving eye, and set out to correct what he considered to be a glaring lack in his life. The low thatch-covered area stood next to the resort’s main pool. Pulling the scooter up to the open bar and shielded from the sun by its thatched roof, Eric smiled as he looked up at the bartender and said, “I’d like a tequila sunrise, please.”

* * *

Dimitri, at the remote outback compound, stood watching as the engineer and his assistant worked on assembling some fittings. Once they were done, the engineer turned to Dimitri. “We have just about everything fabricated that we shall need. Also, the electronics are largely complete: the receivers, timers, and sequencers are done, and we can proceed with final assembly of the devices in the Toowoomba facility. However, as I recall, I was promised that I would have the Kryton switches today? Why haven’t they arrived? They must be tested, you know.”

Biting his tongue, Dimitri reminded himself that the engineer was vital to their needs. “Vladimir, I’m sure that there has been a slight delay, nothing more. As soon as our employer contacts me, I will advise you as to when to expect the switches.”

* * *

After knocking back his third tequila sunrise, Eric guided the scooter out into the harsh sun in the direction of the pool. Driving with one hand as he struggled to peel off his T-shirt, Eric pulled it halfway over his head, tugging one arm free, before switching hands and pulling the shirt away from his eyes. As his vision returned, he yanked the scooter’s handlebar to the right, barely in time to avoid plunging headlong into the pool. Jerry, who had managed to slip away from the others to look for Eric, was less than a dozen feet away when he saw Eric’s near-disaster. “Be careful with that, you almost ended up in the water!” he yelled, as he ran towards Eric.

Looking around, enjoying the sun and the buzz from the tequila, Eric began to circle the pool with Jerry in pursuit, weaving in and out around the sets of chairs, nearly but not always managing to avoid ramming into them, much to the alarm of both the few other guests present and the watching bartender.

After his third lap around the pool, Eric, grew tired of Jerry’s yelling, and wheeled the scooter around in a tight turn, heading straight back at his pursuer, who was still wearing a business suit. Eric was really feeling the tequila by now, and laughed as he charged at Jerry, planning only on running over his toes. Jerry leapt out of the way, but he jumped the wrong way, discovering a moment later that he couldn’t walk on water, as he stumbled with a huge splash into the shallow end of the pool.

Jerry didn’t go all the way under, but the waist-deep water came up to his shoulders before he regained his balance enough to stand up. With an ominous silence, he began striding for the pool’s steps, a few dozen feet away, finding it very slow going.

Thinking that Jerry might be a little displeased at his impromptu dunking, Eric decided that he’d best make himself scarce, so he gunned the scooter towards the grass, leaving Jerry in the pool. Doubling back towards the cottages once he knew he was out of Jerry’s sight, Eric drove fast, charging along under the palm trees, laughing as he felt the scooter lurch onto the grass and churn across the uneven surface. Something bounced out of his way, and Eric circled back for a look. Upon realizing what it was, he brought the scooter to a stop and stood up, retrieving his shirt from his back pocket and stretching it out in his hands, as an evil grin grew on his handsome face. With some difficulty due to his leg, he hobbled off in pursuit of his newfound quarry.

Jerry, once he was out of the pool, with the water still cascading from his soaked suit, set off in the direction he’d seen Eric go, not realizing that Eric had doubled back.

* * *

Brandon and Chase entered their cottage, finding it decorated mainly in bamboo and wicker furniture with brightly colored cushions, which both boys thought suited the tropical setting. Glancing out the window at the gorgeous view of the beach, they turned to each other and shared a grin. As alluring as the beach was, it wasn’t foremost on their minds. Their eyes met, a thought passing between them without the need for words, and they began pulling off their clothes as they groped their way towards the single bedroom.

* * *

Helen, keeping a wary eye on Eric as he tore around her living room on his scooter, hauled the largest of her suitcases into her bedroom. Eric had been, she thought, uncharacteristically helpful when, in spite of his leg, he showed up at her door with her suitcase in his hand. She smiled and called out to him, “Eric, please be careful with that scooter. Jerry is worried. Remember, it’s going to a sick child after you get your cast off tomorrow.”

Eric cheerfully agreed, meaning not a word of it, and tore off outside, heading for his own cottage, intending to see if he could run over Jon’s toes again. Arriving at his cottage, Eric motored inside to find Jon unpacking. “Come on outside and have some fun, bro. They’ve got pools and everything, even a bar,” Eric declared, while butting the scooter repeatedly into a table.

At the mention of a bar, coupled with Eric’s even odder than normal behavior, Jon began to suspect that Eric had already found some alcohol, tequila in particular. Before he could say a word, though, his thoughts were interrupted by a blood-curdling scream echoing in from the adjoining cottage. Dashing out of his own cottage and into Helen’s, Jon found Helen and Barbra standing by a bedroom door. Helen was a little out of breath, no doubt from her scream, but Barbra was pointing inside the bedroom and beginning to chuckle as she said, “Its gone under the bed; we’ll have to chase it out of there.”

Günter rushed in, and Jon took note of Eric’s pointed absence. Helen turned to them all to say, “I opened my suitcase, and this enormous, giant thing leapt at my head. It scared the hell out of me and now it’s under the bed. Maybe we can get a broom and shoo it out the door.”

Puzzled, Jon entered the bedroom and got down on his knees near the bed. With some trepidation, he gingerly lifted the cover to peer underneath, jumping back a few feet as the very large cane toad let loose a loud ribbit.

Laughing, Jon stood up. Turning to Helen he said, “That’s the biggest damn frog I’ve ever seen. How did that get in your suitcase?”

Helen, her face coloring, simply asked, “Where’s Eric? He was so helpful; he showed up at my door with the case. Tell me where he is, and then let me break his other leg...”

Stifling a laugh, Jon peeled off his shirt and used it to shoo the toad out from under the bed and out into the living room. After a lively chase, they managed to get the creature out the front door. As the cane toad hopped away, they noticed Jerry sloshing towards them.

“You’re soaked,” Helen said as she stated the obvious. “What happened?”

Jerry, his face impassive, replied, “Eric chased me into the pool.”

Expecting that Helen would be upset at the news, Jon slipped away to return to his own cottage, where he found Eric whipping the scooter around in circles on the far side. “Bro,” Jon said with a shake of his head, “Helen is out for your hide.”

Looking up but not stopping, Eric asked, “Why does she think it was me?”

Jon laughed hard before replying, “Because it’s always you. Who else would put a giant frog in her suitcase? And speaking of which, I know you. You usually don’t do crazy stuff like that unless you’ve been drinking tequila...”

With a laugh, Eric said as he straightened out the scooter, heading off in the direction of the bar, “Yeah, I finally got me a real tequila sunrise, and another sounds good right now. I’ve only had three.”

Jon ran a few paces in pursuit of his brother, but, sensing a disaster in the making and feeling the need for backup, he turned on his heel and ran to Helen’s cottage.

Charging in the door, he blurted out, “Eric found the bar, he’s been drinking––“

“–Tequila,” Helen said, finishing Jon’s sentence and voicing her own suspicions. “Okay, where is he?”

“On his way to the bar for more, and he’s already had three.” Jon replied.

Helen paled noticeably. “If he gets any more, he’ll raise real hell. Oh, God, couldn’t we be here for just one hour before he got into trouble?”

Jerry began to rub the area above his forehead as he mumbled, “I remember what he was like at my party.” Jerry led the way, charging out the door as the rest followed, only to have to wait until Jon came out and pointed in the direction Eric had gone.

Jon got to the bar first, charging up to the startled bartender to ask, “Did you just see a guy on a scooter?”

Confused by the sight of four other people arriving at a run, the bartender nodded, “He took off towards the beach. I’d just given him a bottle of F–“

Assuming the worst, Helen yelled, “We’ve got to get him!” Following the bartender’s pointing finger, they all took off at a desperate pace in the direction of the beach, with Helen stumbling along behind, frantically making a call on her cell phone. Jerry, too, pulled aside from the group, looking ahead and seeing no sign of Eric.

Envisioning what the next couple of days could be like, and the risks he was running with every passing moment, Jerry doubled back to the cottage he was sharing with Günter, seeking both privacy and his other cell phone from his luggage. Rubbing his irritated head, he silently cursed the way the tropical heat made his toupee itch. “Damn them,” he muttered under his breath. Pulling out his phone along with some dry clothes, he shed his affected persona of ‘Jerry’ as easily as most men would discard a jacket. With haste, he dialed a memorized number, and waited two long seconds before the other end of the line answered. “Hello, Dimitri, we have a situation,” said The Scar.

* * *

Pulling on their board shorts as they jumped out of bed in response to Helen’s phone call, Brandon and Chase dashed out of the bedroom to join the search, only to find Eric sitting on the couch in front of their TV, a bottle of Fanta soft drink in his hand, calmly channel surfing.

“Dude,” Brandon blurted out, “Everyone is looking for you.”

Eric shrugged, looking up from what he considered to be a very meager selection of channels. “Well, I’m right here. Damn, all I was trying to do was have a little fun. I only had three drinks, big deal. I’ve always wanted to try a professionally made tequila sunrise, and I’m old enough to drink here, so I figured I’d try it.”

Knowing his brother’s ways through years of experience, Chase realized that three drinks wouldn’t make Eric too crazy, at least not for long. Signaling Brandon with a look that everything was okay, he plopped into the sofa beside his brother and asked, “So why are you hiding out in here, bro?”

Shrugging again, Eric replied, “I sort of chased Jerry into the pool and then I put a huge frog in Helen’s suitcase, and I heard she wasn’t too happy about it.” Pausing for a moment, Eric then added, “I also need Brandon’s help. When I left the bar I went off a curb on the scooter Jerry lent me, and it’s been running really bad; it barely got me back here. Helen told me to look after it, so I was hoping you could fix it before she finds out. I saw the clothes you guys left all over the floor so I knew what you were doing and I figured I’d kick back until you were done.” Eric looked back and forth between Brandon and Chase with a hopeful smile on his face.

* * *

The Scar explained the problem to Dimitri as quickly as he could, breaking some of the cardinal rules of operational security in his need for haste. “Listen carefully. I am in-country with the switches we need, approximately a seven-hour drive from your location. The switches are concealed the same way the last set were. However, there is a problem. The young hellion – one of my worthless son’s former band mates – whom I lent the scooter to is running wild with it. There is no chance, none, that those switches can be replaced if they are damaged, and I cannot act alone as I am unarmed. I need you to get here by morning. I’m at the Bunyip Beach Resort; now take down the directions...” The Scar waited for Dimitri to confirm, and hung up. Slipping with ease, like any good actor, back into his character of ‘Jerry,’ The Scar pulled on some dry clothes and set off at a fast jog to resume his search for Eric.

* * *

“I’ve got a Swiss Army Knife in my suitcase, hang on,” Brandon said as he darted into the bedroom. After finding his knife, he sent a quick text message to Helen, letting her know that Eric was okay and no longer drinking.

Returning to the living room, Brandon pushed the scooter over on its side, and seeing that the access plate was held in place with Phillips head screws, he flicked up the correct tool, and set to work removing the access plate. “Eric, I’ll try, but I was just a general sound tech, and I don’t even have a circuit tester. I’ll poke around inside and see what I can see, though.”

* * *

Feeling her phone vibrate, Helen paused her frantic dash along the empty beach and read Brandon’s text message. Breathing a sigh of relief tinged with not a little anger, she turned and yelled loud enough for Günter, Jerry, and Barbra to hear, “Eric’s back at the cottages. He’s safe, and he’s not drinking.” Waiting while Jerry ran towards her, Helen weighed her options. She knew by the fact he’d sent a text message that Brandon wouldn’t want Eric knowing he’d done so. Not wanting to put Brandon in an awkward position, she decided to leave Eric be, for the moment.

Helen’s surprise was evident when Jerry arrived, breathing heavily from his run, and he gasped, “What about the scooter? Is it safe?”

“Relax, Jerry,” she said, “I’m sure it’s okay. Eric is with Brandon and Chase, but I don’t want to disturb them just yet. Brandon let me know where Eric was and I don’t want to put him in a bad position. We can go yell at them later, though.”

“Please, it is very important. I must make sure the scooter is safe. There is a terminally ill child in dire need of it, for a surprise, for what is likely his last birthday. There just isn’t time to replace it if anything happens.”

Taken aback by the revelation, Helen said, “Oh, Jerry! Why didn’t you say so? No wonder you’ve been so stressed. Come on, we’ll go check on it right now. Eric gets his cast off in the morning, and he shouldn’t be using the scooter on this rough ground anyway. He can make do with his crutches or on foot for the rest of the day.” Jerry took off at a run, and Helen, already out of breath, followed at a fast walk back up the beach to the cottages.

* * *

He had to struggle thanks to the Swiss Army Knife’s inadequate screwdriver, managing to partially strip a couple of screws as he removed them, but Brandon was able to pull open the access hatch and peer inside. Wishing that he had a flashlight, he turned the scooter towards the window for better light, and then looked inside again, hoping that he’d find something simple to fix, such as a loose connection.

Pushing aside some bundles of wires, Brandon saw the gleaming copper windings of the motor and beside them a stack of four circuit boards. Reaching in further, he spotted something and smiled: the nut holding the wire from the battery to the motor was loose. Twisting his arm around to get a better grip, he tightened it, saying “I think I found the problem.”

With the nut as tight as he could make with without tools, Brandon tried the controls, heard the motor hum, and saw the rear wheels spinning. With a big proud grin, he looked up at Eric to say, “Your ass is saved, dude; I fixed it.”

“Thanks, bro, you’re the best. I think Helen would have killed me.” Eric said, feeling a tremendous sense of relief.

Brandon was repositioning the wiring harness in preparation of closing up the scooter when he spotted something interesting. Peering in, he angled his head for a closer look at the fourth circuit board. “This is some pretty advanced shit. I can only see it edge-on, but one of the circuit boards has some funky kind of integrated circuits on it. It looks more like row after row of little glass insects than any kind of chips. That is some weird shit, man. Must be something new.” Brandon said as he looked at the Kryton switches. What Brandon couldn’t see, due to the way it was mounted, was that the circuit board containing the Kryton switches was not actually connected to the scooter’s electronics. It had been set in place with plastic mounting brackets, which were just glued onto an adjoining circuit board.

Brandon slid the cover plate back on and began replacing the screws which held it in place. His screwdriver slipped on the last screw, and he had to struggle with it, stripping its head slightly. When he was done, he checked that all the screws were snug before righting the scooter. No sooner had he done so than Helen and Jerry came in the door. Brandon saw Jerry look at the scooter with concern before saying, “It looks unharmed.”

Eric glanced up, perplexed by Jerry’s fixation with the scooter. He’d never liked Jerry, though lately he’d kept that fact to himself. There was just something that, to him, didn’t feel right about the guy. Eric had been very grateful for the use of the scooter, but that didn’t stop him from trusting his instincts. Helen read Eric’s expression, and in order to explain Jerry’s behavior she said, “This scooter is supposed to go to a terminally ill child, for what will likely be his last birthday, and if anything had happened to it there wouldn’t be time to replace it. Eric, you’re getting your cast off first thing in the morning, so under the circumstances I think you can make do on foot for the rest of the day. The grounds here aren’t really suitable for the scooter anyway.”

Deciding that he didn’t want to get in any further hot water, Eric nodded his agreement, accompanied by an angelic smile. He didn’t believe the reason, though he was certain that Helen did, and in any case, he knew she was right. Glancing at Brandon, Eric hoped that he’d keep quiet about having to repair the scooter. Brandon caught the look, saw the problem, and decided to keep his mouth shut, even though that meant not asking Jerry if he knew what those odd glass things inside the scooter were.

Smiling, Jerry took a seat on the scooter and drove it back to the cottage he was sharing with Günter. Parking it safely in his bedroom, he breathed a sigh of relief.

With Jerry gone, Helen turned to Eric and asked in her sweetest voice, a voice that Eric had grown to fear, “Eric, honey, chasing Jerry into the pool wasn’t very nice, and why exactly did you think I needed a giant frog in my suitcase? And do you remember what I threatened to do if I ever caught you drinking tequila again?” Helen’s voice might have been sweet, but the look in her eyes was anything but.

With a nod, accompanied by a chagrined look, Eric replied, “You said you’d break the bottle over my head, but I didn’t have a bottle, just cocktails. I even stopped at three. I’m allowed to, you know. The drinking age is eighteen here. I’m sorry, I was only joking around with the frog. You know, like you were when you threatened to out me.”

Fixing Eric in her sternest gaze, Helen said, “No more tequila, of any kind, in any way, or I will out you. I think a few months of celibacy would do you good.”

Leaving Eric to wonder if her threat to out him was real, Helen sought out the resort’s main office. As expected, she found Judy, the owner, there. “Judy, I have a problem. One of my boys, the one with a busted leg, has a real problem with tequila. When he drinks it he goes crazy. He’s old enough to drink here and that’s fine, but I need you to instruct your bartender that Eric can’t have tequila under any circumstances.”

Judy, having already heard from her staff about the lunatic on the scooter, quickly agreed, and lifted her phone to give the appropriate instructions to the bar manager.

With that urgent piece of business taken care of, Helen returned to her cottage, intending to head for the beach with Barbra and relax.

* * *

Eric moped a little, flicking through channels in the living room of the cottage he was sharing with Jon. “I can’t go to the beach because I’d get sand in my cast. I can’t go in the pool because I’d get my cast wet. Damn, I’m here in paradise and now I don’t even have the scooter to play with. I’ll bet that Helen’s already cut me off at the bar, too.”

Jon, sitting on the other end of the sofa, looked at his brother and laughed. “Bro, come on, you’re getting your cast off in the morning. So, tomorrow, you can do whatever you want. Look at the bright side; what if Helen found out you broke the scooter?”

With a nod, and then the first hints of a smile, Eric replied, “Yeah, good point. Like I said, I owe Brandon big time for fixing it and not telling.” His reservations about Jerry hadn’t gone away, indeed, they’d grown stronger, so Eric decided to level with his brother. “Okay, I’m not really bummed out; I’m just impatient to get this fucking cast off. That’s not even what’s really bothering me. It’s Jerry: you know I’ve never liked him much. Sure, he’s been damn good to me, but it’s just a gut feeling I have. There’s something not right about him. I’ll figure him out though, sooner or later.”

Jon had seen Eric’s talent at reading people in action on many occasions – the most recent one being the situation with Steve and Wilde from The Shadows – and as a result he wasn’t inclined to dismiss Eric’s ability out of hand, though Jon felt differently. “Bro, he pretty much got Brandon and Chase together by pushing Brandon about it at his party and then he sent them champagne. He also helped you with the GPS, and he helped Brandon pick out the necklace for Chase’s birthday. Then he set you up with the scooter. Are you sure you aren’t feeling this way just because he’s Lump’s father?”

Eric shook his head. “Nope, it’s not that. It’s just something I feel, like a vibe I get from him. I just don’t like the guy.”

With a reluctant nod, Jon made his decision to trust his brother’s instincts over his own feelings. It wasn’t an easy decision for him because he’d always been the most self-reliant of the three Carlisle brothers. However, thinking back, he had to admit that Eric had always had a knack for understanding people. With his decision made, Jon said, “I know better than to doubt you, bro. We’ll keep an eye on him and see what we can find out, okay?”

“Thanks, bro... but don’t tell Helen until we have some proof. I know she thinks he’s a good guy.” Eric said, glancing at his brother and receiving a nod of agreement.