Chapter 8
Warm Sun, Cold Woman
Voices were all about him: the yells of children, the shouts and laughter of teenagers and the low-toned conversation of adults. Also, there was the noise of the surf rolling against the beach and now and then, the piercing cry of a sea bird.
Tony lay on his back on the beach sand, the sun glaring down on his upturned face. Suntan lotion glistened on his dusky-olive skin.
Tony was only vaguely conscious of the hubbub about him. His mind was out of gear, floating dreamily. Yet, the sickening remorse that had jabbed into his consciousness after the sex movie the night before, still lingered, floating just under the surface of his brain like a cloud of putrid vapor.
Tony tried to put thoughts of the movie from his mind, to pretend it had never happened. But a persistent fear kept worming into his brain: What if his brother Tom should someday view the movie? Tony forced the thought from his mind and concentrated on the stinging heat of the sun. He envisioned the clean, shimmering rays of an expurgating force, baking and cleansing his body and mind of all evil.
After a while, Tony dozed off. But his slumber was fitful, shot through with nightmares. Once he saw himself lying naked on a bed with Margo, white-hot lights sizziling down upon them. Outside the oasis of light was a darkness thick as the void of space. And in the darkness, glimmering faintly, like stars, were millions of eyes, all turned toward the bed, staring.
Tony awakened when a small child, chasing a beach ball, jumped across his legs showering him with sand. Tonys face and hands stung from the harsh heat of the sun. He turned over on his side and glanced around at the people on the beach.
Tony was surprised to see Race standing near a refreshment stand talking to an unusually tall man dressed in dudish cowboy clothes. Race himself, wore a natty new sports outfit with snap-brim hat, narrow tie and expensive shoes. He looked like a prosperous Bronx bookie.
Tony raised on an elbow to get a better look at Race's companion. The fellow seemed strangely out of place among the bikini-clad figures on the beach. He wore a checkered Western shirt with string tie, tight corduroy riding pants and flashy flat-heeled boots. His Western-style hat, however, had a fashionably narrow brim. He must have been at least six-three, with red hair and giant, powerful hands. As Tony watched, the man turned and spat tobacco juice onto the sand.
Tony noticed a short Negro, husky as a grizzly bear, standing near the tall man as if he were some sort of a bodyguard. The Negro was disgustingly gorillalike, with a massive jaw and a great, flat nose with flaring nostrils. His powerful arms were unusually long, seeming to hang almost to his knees. His head was bald, shining greasily in the sunlight.
A small, skinny kid with freckles the same one who had awakened Tony kicked his plastic ball up the beach, then ran after it. The ball bounced twice, then rolled to a stop at the Negro's feet. The man lifted his short gorilla leg and viciously jabbed his heel into the ball, exploding it. The kid stopped short, looking up at the Negro with wide, fearful eyes. The man bellowed with laughter, sounding like a choking bull. He danced about on the sand like an idiot.
The kid pivoted and ran back down the beach, crying.
Tony lay down again, turning on his stomach to give his back a little sun. His gaze passed casually over a pair of shapely legs with a familiar olive-golden hue. His eyes swung back. It was Frankie's raven-haired roommate-the nymph of the lagoon-stretched out under a blue and white striped beach umbrella, not twenty yards away. She must have come out onto the beach while he slept, Tony concluded.
The girl was wearing a blue bikini with sexy lacing down the sides which left little diamonds of golden-tan flesh showing. She wore sunglasses. Her pony tail was tied in place with a blue and white polka dot scarf. Tony noticed something else, too a small, heart-shaped ruby hanging from a fine golden chain between her bikini-haltered breasts.
Tony shifted on the sand to get a better view of her. She held an almost hypnotic attraction for him. Her willowy body although lacking the lush overfullness of Margo's and Frankie's was, nevertheless, very sexy. It was perfectly proportioned fine, slender angles, delicately molded calves, tapering thighs, hips that curved pleasantly, instead of flaring vulgarily; firm, erect breasts; long, graceful neck and a beautiful oval face with delicate, finely boned features. She was reading a book under the umbrella.
Tony sat up. He wanted to talk to the girl so badly it was almost an irresistible urge. Her coolness deflated his masculine ego. He'd never yet encountered a girl with whom he couldn't get to first base.
Tony paused a moment to gather his courage, then rose and walked over to her. He squatted on the sand, looking down at her. "Hi, there. Enjoying yourself?"
She didn't answer: her eyes didn't move from the book. Tony scooped up a handful of sand and let it filter through his fingers. "I'm Tony Martino," he said uneasily. "I met you last night at Frankie's apartment."
Still no reaction. She turned a page of the book and went right on reading.
Tony was getting irritated. What was she teed off about? "Look," he said, "I'm sorry we barged in last night without letting you know we were coming. But Frankie said it was all right and that you wouldn't mind."
She silently turned another page, ignoring him. Tony noticed she was wearing a small silver identification bracelet around one of her trim ankles. He leaned forward and read the engraving on it. He turned back to her. "Evon," he said, "that's a beautiful locket you're wearing." He felt juvenile after he'd said it, but it was the only thing he could think of.
She glanced up from the book. Even through her shades Tony could see the angry snap of her eyes. "The name's E-von, not Ev-on," she said icily. "And this is a pendant, not a locket." Her eyes moved back to the book. "Am I keeping you from something, stupid?" she said, voice bitter with sarcasm.
Tony's hands gripped the sand and squeezed. Lord, how he wanted to wring that beautiful conceited neck! He glanced around the beach, fighting to control his anger. He noticed that Race and the tall, red-haired guy were watching them closely as they talked. The red-haired man's eyes seemed to be locked onto Evon's body like fishhooks.
Tony rose to his feet. He glared down at her. "By the way 'E-von', I have your towel," he said sarcastically. "I'll be glad to return it. You may need it the next time you go bare-assed swimming in the lagoon."
Tony turned and strode away. He noticed that she slammed her book closed angrily. It gave him a feeling of satisfaction to know at least he had stirred up some reaction from her, if only anger.
He walked to the edge of the surf and waded in. He needed to cool off. He sloshed out until the water was almost waist deep, then dove headlong into the incoming waves. He swam blindly ahead, ramming into the breakers, letting them spin him around and roll over his body. God, that woman made him mad!
Tony fought the surf for about five minutes, letting out his aggressions. Then he stumbled ashore and fell exhausted to the sand. He glanced around and saw that Evon had folded her umbrella and left the beach. This added to his satisfaction. That conceited bitch! What she needed was her butt paddled or a good lay to tame her down.
Tony lay there in the hot sun, letting it dry his dripping body. He had almost dozed off. when someone walked up and squatted down beside him. Tony opened his eyes and looked up. It was Race.
"Did you get the money, kid? You were still asleep when I walked in on you this morning, so I put it on your dresser."
Tony nodded. "The hundred bucks sure looked good to us. We got Dobber fixed up with enough H to last him for awhile."
Race adjusted his new silk tie. "The guy wants another film. He said he'll pay us a couple of Gs for this one."
"Race, I "
"I'll tell you more about it later," Race interrupted hastily. "What I wanted to ask you is who was that girl you were talking to over here?"
Tony frowned. "Her first name's Evon. I don't know her last. She's a roommate of a beach girl I'm dating. Why?"
Race leaned down and brushed sand from his gleaming alligator shoes. "I think she may be able to help us with our big deal. Does she have hot pants for you?"
Tony snorted bitterly. "She doesn't care for me much, I'm afraid."
"Hell, slap her around a bit, kid. Show her who's boss. These broads are like horses. They have to be ridden and broken before they're worth a damn."
"How can she help us with the deal?" Tony asked, curiosity aroused.
Race hesitated. Tony could see that he didn't want to be pinned down. "There's a guy who's interested in her," he said, finally. "If we could get her to play up to him, it would help our deal along."
"Is he that red-haired fellow you were talking to a minute ago? I noticed him ogling her."
Race looked out at the surf. "Yeah, that's the one, kid," he said reluctantly. "But don't worry about that. I'll work that angle. All you gotta do is get chummy with the broad, so she'll do what you tell her. Lay her a couple of times, real good know what I mean? That always gets them hooked."
Race rose and brushed off his trousers. "Well, we'll see you around, kid."
"Race," Tony said quickly, "about those movies I don't want any more to do with them. I just don't like to do it that way."
Race scowled down at him. "Suit yourself, kid. You're just throwing away five hundred bucks. That would buy a lot of snappy clothes."
"How would this film be different from the other?" Tony asked, trying not to sound interested. "How come you're getting more for it?"
"The guy wants two couples in this next one." Race laughed harshly. "That's what the reformers call hardcore pornography. I've already got a pair lined up. And if you're not interested, I can find another in about five minutes who'd lay Margo in the middle of town in front of a church for nothing. Since you're a good buddy, I was just giving you first crack at it."
Race turned and trudged off down the beach toward the motel.
Tony lay back on the warm sand and tried to doze off again. But he kept thinking about Race's new clothes and how sharp Tony Martino would look in a suit like that.