Page 22 of No Time Off

“Deal.” Still smiling, I rose from my chair, holding out a hand to help her up. “And for tonight, I think we’ll ask the resort concierge for a recommendation for a nice restaurant in town for dinner and the location of a shop where we can buy some local wine for our excursion tomorrow.”

“Perfect. And after dinner?”

“Perhaps a stroll along a moonlit beach or sampling some of the wine while enjoying the view of the ocean from our hot tub. Or both. It’s totally up to us, since neither of us has a care in the world, which is exactly the way we wanted it. Just rest and relaxation.”

She linked hands with me. “You know, Slash, this is turning out to be the most spectacular honeymoon ever.”

“That’s the idea.”

As we left the café, a couple of women approached the police station waving signs and yelling. Two police officers emerged from inside and yelled at them before grabbing their signs and destroying them.

“Holy crap,” Lexi said. “Did you see that?”

“I did.” The aggressiveness of the police surprised me. The Chinese were foreigners on the island, and their own police station notwithstanding, they shouldn’t have been permitted to assault local citizens. Frowning, I scanned the street but saw no other local police coming to the women’s rescue.

People along the street had stopped to watch, as we had. The protesters left without their signs, but still shouting and gesturing at the Chinese police. It appeared many locals sympathized with the women, as they also began yelling and waving their fists. My professional curiosity was piqued by the scene, but we continued with our walk.

Lexi was silent until we reached the next corner. “What do you think that was all about?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it looks like all might not be perfect in paradise.” I didn’t like the fact that my senses were tingling, and my mind had moved from a relaxed state to heightened awareness. I wanted to keep a relaxed appearance for Lexi’s sake, but I was already having trouble viewing the situation as a tourist and not a trained professional.

Maybe I was just overreacting and I’d needed this honeymoon more than I thought.

Or maybe…it was something else.

FOURTEEN

Lexi

After strolling around the town for a while, we rode the bus back to the resort. Fortunately, there were no chickens on the bus to give me the willies this time. We lounged around and I spent an entire hour on the beach under a large umbrella in a lounge chair watching the waves and the seabirds. Slash did a lot of swimming and I read a bit, but nothing that involved computers. Instead, the book was a historical thriller set in Egypt. It reminded me of our trip to Egypt and a runaway camel named Arnold, but I quickly shoved that memory out of my mind.

I was on vacation, after all.

There might have been a stretch of time when I napped, but I wasn’t sure. It was really nice just to relax. Eventually Slash got out of the ocean and shook droplets of cool water on me as he leaned over to kiss me.

“It’s time to get ready for dinner,” he said, stretching out a hand. “Unless you want to order room service.”

I stood up, shaking the sand off my feet before I slipped them into my flip-flops. “I’d prefer to go out. I think I’ve relaxed enough for one day. In fact, if I relax anymore, I’ll begin to seep into the webbing of this beach chair.”

“That’s exactly the idea,” he said, grabbing a towel and drying off. “Minus the seeping.”

We returned to the room, showered, and opted for a fancy dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant recommended by the concierge. I decided to change into clothing a little nicer to match the occasion. I wore one of the three sundresses Basia picked out for me. This one was white and had a square neck with fancy yellow swirls on it. The dress fell to just below my knees, which I preferred, and I especially liked it because I could wear my favorite white sandals with it. A cropped yellow sweater and yellow earrings in the shape of small flowers were the only extra accessories I agreed to. The dress had a pocket, so I was able to slip my phone into it and leave my purse in the room. After brushing my hair and swiping on some lip gloss, I was ready to go.

Slash shaved and put on a short-sleeved burgundy button-down shirt with black slacks. He looked effortlessly perfect and smelled heavenly with a hint of my favorite cologne. Slash had arranged with the concierge to hire a taxi to take us back into Avarua, so the driver was waiting for us when we got to the front of the resort.

After the short trip back to town, we asked the driver to drop us a few blocks from the restaurant. We wanted to enjoy the evening atmosphere. Hand in hand, we strolled the side streets along the Ara Tapu. The sea breeze rustling the palm trees and the sound of the waves crashing against the beach was the perfect accompaniment to our evening.

As we approached the government center of town, which we had visited earlier, our peaceful walk was suddenly interrupted by a low, rhythmic chant.

“What’s that noise?” I asked, looking at Slash.

He shrugged. “No idea. Maybe some kind of performance?”

Curious, we quickened our pace. The parking lot, which had been busy in the afternoon, was now packed and alive with the buzz of an impassioned crowd. We moved closer to get a better look.

As we approached, I noticed two uniformed Chinese police officers eyeing us carefully from the other side of the street. I nudged Slash, but I could feel him tense, which indicated he was already aware of their presence. I found their presence odd and, for reasons I couldn’t explain, unsettling. They weren’t directing traffic or working crowd control or anything. Why they were standing there staring just didn’t feel right. As we passed them, I noted that most of the locals gave them a wide berth as well.

A makeshift stage had been erected in the center of the parking area. A woman stood on it, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her. She held a wireless microphone, and there were portable speakers arranged around her. She spoke about social reform for the islands, her words striking a chord with many in the gathered mass. Her strong voice, amplified by the microphone, cut through the air.

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