Free Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 02 - Vacation is Murder by Carolyn Arnold Page B

everything. Sara’s shoes had reached the edge of the pool and she was calling out to him. He mentally communicated with her not to get into the pool—no matter what happened.
    Sean’s head broke the surface, all of his fighting power going to the burning muscles of his legs and abdomen. He gasped for breath.
    “Sean!” Sara’s voice dulled as he went under again and the rush of water and bubbles filled his ear canals.
    He struggled to find a hold on Bud’s clothing, but the fabric ran through his fingers as if fine silk, allowing Bud to move his body out of reach. He must have been floating on top of the water, giving him the advantage, as he held Sean under.
    Everything from the last month ricocheted through Sean’s mind—how he went from being a working man to being one of the wealthiest on the planet, from being lonely to being married to the woman of his dreams.
    Did he come to Cancun to die? No. The resounding answer pushed him forward. Sara. He would live for her. If he died what would happen to her?
    Sean shimmied, wiggling and contorting, in an effort to break the man’s hold. It worked, and the man’s body lowered enough that Sean got a solid handful of his clothing, wrenching the man down.
    They reached the bottom, both of their fists flailing in an effort to inflict damage, but the water served as buffer, slowing the blows to ineffective jabs.
    Sean needed air. Now.
    He wrestled, trying to break free.
    Sara’s screams resonated—even at eight feet down.
    Seconds ticked.
    Sean had to get to the surface.
    Intent only on survival, both men released the other and made it to the top as sirens pierced the humid air.
    The man swam quickly to the edge of the pool where he hoisted himself up, ran along the patio and dashed through a gate.
    Sara was at the side of the pool, holding out her hand for Sean. “You picked a strange time for a swim, darling.”
    “Very funny. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He pulled her behind him and they cleared the back of the property, as the running feet of policeman tapped the concrete behind them.

 
     

     
    It’s All About Perspective
     
    THEY APPROACHED A NEARBY MOTEL that gave off the same level of quality, or lack thereof, as the one they’d come from. Sean worked, with one hand, at digging out soaked bills from his pocket as he held out the other to slow Sara’s pace. If they went hurrying in, combined with the nearby sirens, they would appear suspicious.
    Sara nodded to his directions and slipped her hand into his.
    The man behind the counter looked like he had just been awakened from a nap.
    “One room. Whatever you got,” Sean blurted out the words.
    The man shared glances between Sean and Sara and came back to rest his eyes on Sean.  “Speak slower, Señor.”
    “We need a room.”
    The Mexican pointed at Sean’s wet clothing.
    Sean jacked a thumb toward the street. “It’s hot out there.”
    The man looked skeptically at him and then passed his gaze to Sara. “You’re a little fancy for a place like this aren’t you?”
    Sean tightened his hold on Sara. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
    “Special guy you’ve got here, taking you to a dive like this.”
    “He’s the best.” Sara ran a hand down Sean’s chest.
    Sean took her hand. “We were on a day excursion, saw the place and, I’m sure you know what it’s like. Like I said, we’re honeymooners.” Sean leaned on the counter, raised his brow, hoping he wouldn’t be encouraged to elaborate.
    His heart was still pounding. The last thing he and Sara needed was to be apprehended by the Mexican police. He’d never seen the inside of a Mexican jail, and he had no desire to now.
    Sean placed the pesos on the counter. “Here. Keep the change. Key?”
    The man picked up the money and counted it thoroughly. “You’re short.”
    “It’s exactly what the sign says.”
    Sara pulled her hand from Sean’s and touched his arm. “It’s okay, darling, just pay the man whatever it