Just Needs Killin Read Online Free PDF Page A

wiped down the door handle with my skirt, and slid the door closed, locking it from the inside as I did so. 
    Flying back down the stairs, pumped up with fear and adrenalin, I doubted anyone in authority saw me, since I looked like a bag lady with her entire belongings—or some hotel guest's valuables—slung over her shoulder. Hotel employees are trained to overlook the antics of guests, but someone dressed as I was pushed the limits of normal.
    I reached the main floor level and was rushing along the route I hoped led to the parking lot, and Jan, when we almost had a head-on collision. 
    As we danced around each other to maintain our balance, Jan whispered, "I drew a big fat zero. There are several hotel employees hanging out in the parking lot. Hell, one of them is sitting on your pickup's hood. I think they're waiting for a bus or something."
    "Dammit! Okay, back into the locker room. We'll think of something else."
    The Mujeres room was still luckily devoid of mujeres , so we spent a few minutes coming up with a new idea.
    "Okay, I think I've got it. Where are our bathing suits?"
    Jan waggled a garbage bag at me. We put our suits back on despite the evening chill, left the workers' clothes in a locker in the EMPLOYEES ONLY room, and scooted for the beach using the lush hotel shrubbery for cover. At least now we had money, IDs, and car keys. What we didn't have were a couple of sweaters, which we sorely needed. The sun was gone, a brisk, cool breeze came off the land, and we were trudging down a deserted beach toward a bar we'd spotted from our balcony earlier in the day. A bar with several pangas parked outside.
    "Okay, Jan, here's our story and we're sticking to it. We came here from Puerto Escondido with a couple of jerks who got drunk and belligerent. We had a tiff, and they left us. We need a ride back to port."
    "Gotcha. Did we come by car or boat?”
    "Boat. I saw a couple of speed boats in the harbor this afternoon with a bunch of partiers on board. As for my truck, we'll get it one way or another. Right now we just need a way out of here. Pronto."
     
    Business was a little slow at the Playa Blanca Bar, as it was early yet. We immediately spotted a couple of older Mexicans who might belong to those pangas, so I steered us to a table next to them while ignoring the surfer dude types ogling Jan from the bar. We were the only females in the room.
    I ordered two cuguamas of Tecate—thirty-two ounce bottles of beer named for sea turtles—and two cheeseburgers with papas fritas to keep our strength up.
    Turning my attention to the two Mexican men, I said, " Buenas noches ."
    Obviously startled that a Gringa was zeroing in on them, they both nodded and politely replied, " Buenas noches " and went back to their conversation.
    Our beers arrived, and we'd chugged them by the time the burgers showed up. When the men at the next table scooted their chairs back, I waved a greasy salt-and-ketchup laden fry in their direction. "Say, do you know where we can rent a boat?"
    Now I was speaking their language. With a wide grin, one asked, "You wish to go fishing or snorkeling, señora ?"
    "No, we just want to take a boat ride."
    "We have good boats." He nodded toward the pangas. "We can take you to the islands." He reached into a back pocket and pulled out a brochure featuring the usual photos of whales, underwater shots of colorful fish, and someone fighting a huge marlin. Handing it to me, he asked, "When do you wish to go?"
    "Uh, now?"
    They eyed our huge, empty, beer bottles, probably trying to assess just how drunk we were. I noticed the guys at the bar were eavesdropping on our conversation, so I turned to Jan and said, under my breath, "Showtime."
    Jan stood, tugged off the scarf tied around her waist, turned those big old baby blues on our prey, and mustered a tear, which I suspect was induced by a salty finger. Dabbing it with the scarf, she wailed, "Can you please help us? We came here with some mean old men who left