The Tender Shore: A Matt Ransom Mystery

by Bobby Underwood

  The foyer could not have been more stylish, its creams and beiges blending with potted greenery, soft wall murals of flowers and native birds, and hanging crystal lighting that I could envision Astaire and Rogers twirling beneath. The Palm Room was bathed in golds and whites, its high ceiling and massive windows reminding us of a cathedral. Dining tables were judiciously spaced beneath Palm shaped light fixtures covered in gilded cages, and on each side of the room for its entire length, stood tall palms, their fronds spreading gracefully towards the center, like the outstretched hand of a lady waiting for her suitor's kiss.

  There were other rooms, all special in their own way, but my favorite was the breakfast room. It was less showy, but had a more intimate feel, a warmth and charm that just sort of relaxed you the minute you entered. Beige and a very soft white were the primary colors, augmented by an olive green trim matching the palm trees painted in washed out browns and greens. Rectangular tables covered in white linen, and bamboo chairs with latticed backs and muted brown seat cushions featuring a red flower print begged us to be seated. Meagan asked if we were hungry and we decided we were. We walked across massive tiles a lovely shade of brown with just the slightest hint of red, and officially began our stay at the Copacabana Palace. I could really enjoy it here if only I could forget the reasons we had come. I wished that I could.

  Meagan was so animated and full of life it was difficult to dwell on unpleasant matters, however, and I found myself smiling a lot as she and LeAnn chatted and ate. The food was delicious, and so was the company. I discovered that Edna and Doc were out for the day, and had left word with Meagan that we would make contact in the morning. "Grandma also told me to tell you, or maybe ask you," she related in a pretty fair imitation of the old gal, "Would he please refrain from his usual shenanigans and just enjoy himself till morning." I couldn't help but laugh. Neither could LeAnn.

  "Guess we have all day and tonight to ourselves, Daddy," LeAnn informed me cheerily.

  "Does that mean they'll be no shenanigans?" I asked, slipping my hand under the table where Meagan couldn't see, and discovering LeAnn hadn't been fooling earlier.

  "Oh, I hope there will. I hate it when there isn't. Don't you just hate it when that happens, Meagan?" she said to her, including her in the fun. She was grinning from ear to ear watching us, and I thought once again that she was really fabulous. I asked if she had anyone special in her life. She gave her head a little bob and scrunched up her nose a bit.

  "No, not really. I just like bein' me right now, I guess. Grandma is grooming me to run this place in a year or two," she shared. "To tell you the truth, you kind of get involved with people’s lives, you know, the ones who work for you," she said, suddenly sounding less like a teenager. "It's sort of a responsibility, looking out for them, making sure they're taken care of, if you know what I mean." I did know, but she was just beginning to. She still had a year or two to be young and wonderful, before she became more responsible and wonderful.

  "You'll do fine," offered LeAnn, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand.

  "Thanks," Meagan beamed. She leaned over and lowered her voice. "It's a big fucking deal."

  I chuckled. She used dirty words in the same manner as LeAnn; rarely and in a fun way, the vulgarity completely removed. She left us to go change before she met up with friends to tour nearby coffee and sugar cane plantations. I thought it was fortunate that some had survived. Venezuela, Columbia and parts of Ecuador and Guyana had been devastated by volcanic eruptions during the military war on the drug cartels from the region. It had affected a significant portion of Brazil as well. Rich farmlands were lava and rock now. There were thousands of miles of dead zones along the upper portion of South America where nothing grew, and never would.

  "Why don't we take these peaches and cream up to our room and see if we can find a use for them," LeAnn said mischievously once Meagan left.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  For each remembrance of her soft lips, her loving arms, and her warm sensual waters are memories to cherish for all eternity

  LeAnn stood with her back to the door, playfully blocking my attempts to swipe the clear card which would get us out of the hallway and into our room, where I could rip off her dress. Only I wouldn't have to. I never had to, because she gave herself to me with reckless abandon and complete trust. I was always free to do anything I wanted because she knew it would be something she'd enjoy. She loved and wanted me as much as I did her. The dress she'd worn was bright orange and looked gorgeous caressing her body. I finally gave her a crossover move and managed to open the door just as someone came around the corner. She was leaning against it so hard that she fell back with a whoop into the room, her butt hitting the floor with a solid thump. Somehow, she'd managed to hang on to the bowl of peaches and cream. I was laughing now, and once the shock was past, she joined me.

  "I think I hurt my butt, Daddy!"

  I shut the door. "You poor baby, let me take a look and see," I said, flipping her over unceremoniously, eliciting a shriek and then giggles as I lifted her dress up over her rear. "My, it looks beautiful. Are you sure it's hurt?"

  "Oh, it's hurt, Daddy. Can you kiss it and make it better? Please?"

  I adored her soft white flesh with my lips, stopping after each wet kiss to ask if it felt better yet. Each time, her reply was the same: "Oh, not yet, Daddy, my booboo needs more kisses." It was a wonderful job and I was the luckiest man or bio-organic on the planet to have it. Her rear was a beautiful, slobbery mess by the time I dipped my fingers in the bowl of cream. I spread it generously along the soft curve where her cheeks met. "What's that, Daddy? Is it medicine?"

  "Yes, it's medicine for my pretty little orange pumpkin." I lined up peach slices on the cream; a line of yellow cars crossing the most beautiful snow-filled mountain pass in the world. I licked and slurped until her road was snow and peach free once more. I flipped her wet butt over just as unceremoniously as before, inducing another girlish shriek, and more laughter. "I don't think I hurt that part, Daddy," she said giggling, moments later.

  "Doesn’t it feel better when I kiss it though?"

  "Oh, it feels way better. It feels funny though, Daddy, and I'm getting warm all over, on the inside."

  "You just have a fever, baby," I answered. "You just need a different kind of medicine now, to make it all better."

  "Oh, maybe you should hurry up and give it to me then, so I can be better."

  "You're my girl, and you couldn't be any better, or any more wonderful than you already are," I told her. I moved over her and we kissed as I slipped past her dreamy shore and far out into her velvet sea. We made love there on the floor, oblivious to the rest of the world. There was only us, sometimes pounding and passionate, other times tender and sweet, until we finally released our love in unison. My love added to her feminine ocean while she held me fiercely amid pleasurable groans that dissolved into sighs and normal breathing after a time. We kissed and caressed each other's faces. I slipped from her velvet ocean and adored her hips with my hand.

  "Thank, you," she whispered.

  "What for, Sweetie?"

  "For being the finest and sweetest man on Earth. I love you. Now, always, forever."

  "Me too."

  She smiled and suddenly all that mattered was that she loved me and she was mine.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  For no wounds suffered at the hands of man are ever so deep and irreversible that God cannot provide an avenue to heal them

  The dawn was once again filled with dreams as a happy, white-bikinied Stacy ran along the beach in her bare feet. Laughter echoed along the shore, laughter Stacy could not control and didn't want to. Pedro loved her! After Matt and LeAnn were safely aboard their plane she had received the call from her personal secretary Daniella, whom she'd first met in Paris, that she had obtained Pedro's number. Making the call had been the most frightening thing she had ever done. It was difficult to breathe as she fingered the telecom, switching it to full sc
reen so she could see his face and gauge his reaction.

  Edna was right; love was different every time you felt it, and it didn't make previous loves any less significant or diminish those memories. John would not want her to grieve forever. She could not be the resourceful and confident Stacy who ran Aerodyne all the time. She needed someone to love, someone with whom she could be vulnerable, someone with whom she could trust with her heart. Someone to have fun with and share her life.

  That someone caught up to her, bringing her down in his arms to the wet sand amid her joyous screams. The tide rushed ashore, its water ice-cold against her bare white skin, eliciting more happy squeals. Soon gleeful laughter filled Stacy's world, followed by shrieks of a different kind, as love and need and pleasure became a single entity for a brief but magical moment of ecstasy. "You are my amor hermosa," he whispered tenderly as the breeze blew the dry portions of her lovely blonde hair about her face. "I love you too, Pedro. I don't want to ever be without you again."

  His face had been such an open book once the call had gone through. He looked like someone who had just found a treasure long thought lost, but never forgotten. They had talked for hours, spoken of their love, making plans right up to the moment he boarded the plane for Miami. He had picked up his life in Mexico and flown to Miami and given her one. She would always be grateful. To her friends. To John. To Edna. To Pedro. And to God.

  He was studying to be an engineer, and would transfer to Miami University. He would work part-time and use his own money for basic needs. Stacy would take care of luxuries like entertainment. She suspected there would be more lingerie expenses than restaurant tabs for quite some time. The thought made her smile. Pedro stood, reaching down to help her up. He kissed her. She thrilled at the feel of his hands adoring her soft rear, tiny grains of sand sliding over her milky white beauty beneath his palms. She loved him so much she almost couldn't bear it.

  She didn't know how he had concealed it, but when he dropped to one knee, he took her hand and slid on the modest ring which Stacy thought was the prettiest she had ever seen, looking with her heart rather than her eyes. "Ser mio para siempre." They were the most beautiful words ever spoken to her, and bursting into tears, she fell to her knees and told him, "Si! Si!"

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  For enjoying every moment of happiness and pleasure life affords us is never more important than when faced with oblivion

  I was stretched out on one of the two white lounge chairs with thick soft cushions of white facing the beach. I was really facing LeAnn's beautiful rear as she stood leaning over the white patio barrier facing the ocean a few feet in front of me. The horizon was endless and breathtaking as it melted into the light blue sky with white clouds drifting lazily above the water. LeAnn was wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and a floppy straw hat sat on top of her soft, flowing dark hair. She had taken an orange hibiscus from the room's flower arrangement and placed it in her hair for a splash of color. She was the most gorgeous part of the vista in front of me. Hers was a beauty that started deep in her heart and worked its way outward. She was the loveliest girl I'd ever seen, or ever known. The curve of her ass was graceful and elegant, and always made me hungry somewhere deep inside. As if reading my thoughts, she turned around and smiled, affording me a glimpse of her lovely cleavage. She was ravishing and she was mine, making her all the more beautiful to me.

  "What do you want to do, Matt? We've got the whole day. We could go down to the beach and lay around. I still have some 125 SPF left so we could take turns spreading it on each other."

  "Sounds wonderful," I said, wanting her to have fun. She knew me too well, though.

  "Do I hear a tiny reservation? You aren't thinking of being naughty are you? Maybe Edna's right and you should wait."

  "It's not that," I said.

  "What is it then, sweetie?"

  "Would I seem selfish if I said it was you?" Time passed and I began to wonder if she'd heard me.

  "No," her voice was quieter now, as though I had touched her somewhere the naked eye couldn't see. She walked over to me and sat down on the wide cushion. "Do you want to make love?" she asked tenderly.

  I reached out to caress her white leg, so lovely I could barely stand the way I wanted her. "I love you, LeAnn."

  Her dove-gray eyes were growing softer by the second and for a moment I thought I saw them moisten. She looked away, as if embarrassed. When she turned back, she took her hand and slipped the bathing suit off one shoulder, then repeated the process on the other side. Her breasts were free and they were so pretty I didn't see the ocean anymore. She touched my face. "Make love to them," she murmured, "and don't worry about hurting them. Love them like they're yours, and there's nothing I can do about it."

  I kissed and adored them as she ran fingers through my hair, suckled them as she groaned in pleasure, and nibbled on them hungrily as her grip on my hair became painful. Finally, she lay underneath me on the lounge and we loved again, sweet and caring this time. When we were through, she slipped her bathing suit back on and raced to the beach. There were throngs of people everywhere on both sides of Copacabana Beach as it stretched on forever, but apparently the section around the Palace had been cordoned off, so we had the area all to ourselves. Hundreds of jealous sunbathers and vacationers watched enviously as we frolicked in the sand along the shore. A young girl in white formal wear came down to the beach to see if there was anything we needed, and returned ten minutes later with a small table, a beach umbrella and two massive beach towels. She also brought a plastic pitcher of Coke with two glasses and a bucket of ice.

  I didn't know how long we'd be in Rio, and perhaps we should have seen all the sights, but to do so would have been to walk away from this relaxing paradise. We both decided we didn't want to do anything but hang out and just enjoy this day, letting tomorrow make its own plans. LeAnn had always loved the water, and spent nearly as much time in the ocean as she did on the sand with me. In the afternoon, the girl came back and we ordered sandwiches and had a picnic by the sea. I ran up to the room after lunch and brought books back and we lay under the umbrella and read. I had finished Halberstam's great book on baseball earlier, and was reading Vera Caspary's Laura, one of the great detective/romance novels of all time. LeAnn was still reading her Harry Potter book, it being one of the lengthier installments in the saga of Harry and his pals.

  We fell asleep and woke to a gorgeous sunset. I sat behind her on the sand holding her as we watched it sink below the horizon before heading back to our room. There was no sonically enhanced shower as there had been in Paris, but it was roomy and pretty so we made our own fun before dressing up for dinner. It took a while for LeAnn as usual, but also as usual, it was worth the wait. My gosh was it worth it. Her dress sort of wrapped around her in greens and golds, loose enough to move and sit down but tailored so that it accentuated every curve. Her hair was fixed in a way no man could ever accurately describe except to say that it was classy. There were little green and gold gloves that went with the dress and a gold hairpin clipped on one side of her soft black coiffure. Green shoes the color of her dress completed her look, which was somewhere between royalty and classy call girl.

  "Oo la la," I voiced my approval.

  "I'm glad you like it. I bought it for my husband back in New Chicago, but I guess what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

  "Mum's the word, beautiful," I said, putting my finger to my lips in a shushing gesture. "Is he the jealous type?"

  "Oh, quite. He thinks I'm the cat's meow, and that I adore him."

  "Is it true?"

  "Which part?"

  "The second part."

  She walked over and threw her arms over my shoulders. "Oh yes, I'm absolutely crazy about him." She kissed me sweetly. "You'd have to ask him about the first part."

  "I think I can say with confidence that he most certainly does. Why just the other day I heard him comment on what a wonderful pussy you were."

  "Naughty boy," she whisper
ed. "Take your kitten to dinner."

  I couldn't remember what the room was called, but it was very fancy, and our table was next to a window which took up most of the wall and offered a view of the vast rectangular Palace pool. The outside lights illuminated the area around the pool, which was inundated with white chairs and small white tables. The lights reflected off the sky blue water and gave our dining experience an ethereal glow. We were just leaving when we ran into our favorite teenager.

  "Hey, how'd you guys get along today?"

  "Fabulous," responded LeAnn. "How was the tour?"

  "Awesome!" Meagan answered. "Grandma owns most of it. She keeps it separate from Aerodyne, like some other things she's into." She looked around like girls do when they're afraid they'll be overheard, and lowered her enthusiasm level a bit, which was hard because she was such a ball of wonderful. "To tell the truth, I think if you added up all the stuff grandma owns outside Aerodyne, it's probably equal to what Stacy's taking over."

  "Have you ever met her?" I asked.

  "Stacy? Oh no, not yet, but grandma adores her. Mom didn't want Aerodyne see, and Alison and I aren't ready, even I know that, so she's been planning on giving it to Stacy for a long time. I know it's a huge deal, but it isn't like grandma needs it, and since you know how she is, it just makes sense. Anyone who didn't understand nana would think that she's going bonkers, of course," she laughed.

  Her laughter was fresh and clean, devoid of malice or pretense. She was wearing tan shorts, a washed out green khaki button-up shirt and a genuine pith helmet, like explorers of old. She was cute as a bug, and I was 100% sure every guy she came in contact with would give his eye teeth to be with her. I was just as sure that most if not all of them would be perfectly happy to go through life being with her exclusively. She was that great.