A Killer Retreat by Tracy Weber

dancing nude on top of the Space Needle.
    â€œYou are coming, aren’t you? If your friend’s feeling better, that is.”
    I didn’t answer.
    Emmy’s voice grew more insistent. “I know you’re probably tired, but I do hope you’ll come, at least for a little while. I’d like to introduce you around and drum up some interest for your classes.”
    I suspected that what Emmy really wanted was a five-foot-three-inch human shield. I didn’t blame her, but she’d have to look elsewhere. Nothing short of a volcanic eruption would force me out of my cabin tonight—not to hang out with her dysfunctional family.
    I gave her an insincere smile. “We’ll give it a try.”
    The office door opened. Rene limped into the hallway, followed by Bruce.
    â€œWhat do you think, Dad? Should we call a doctor?” Emmy asked.
    â€œShe’ll be OK.” Bruce turned to Rene. “But remember, if that vomiting continues, let me know. We don’t want you to get dehydrated.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my cell number. Call any time. If I don’t answer, Emmy will know where to find me.”
    â€œThanks,” Rene said. She put the paper in her purse and looked at Sam. “I’d like to head back to the cabin.”
    â€œWe’ll all go,” Michael replied. “It’s time to call it a night.”

six
    Mount Saint Rene erupted two hours later. Multiple times. In multiple rooms. By the third, Michael and I were more than happy to honor Rene’s request to give her some space and go to Emmy’s event at the Retreat House. I couldn’t decide who looked worse as we walked out the door: Rene, who was about to throw up again, or Sam, who was obviously frustrated and heartbroken.
    He stomped behind us, erratically bouncing the beam of his flashlight along the path. “I can’t believe she kicked us out!”
    I gave him what I hoped was a supportive look and tried to soothe him with platitudes. “Well, Rene is sick, and misery doesn’t always love company. You can’t blame her for wanting to throw up in private.”
    â€œGive it a rest, Kate,” he snapped. “That’s not it, and you know it.”
    I froze, both surprised and insulted. I might let Rene get away with that tone. But Sam ?
    Michael cringed and moved several feet away, wisely giving us some space. I glared at Sam across the darkness. “I don’t know anything. What are you talking about?”
    He shined the light in my face and peered intently, as if searching for answers in the minutia of my expression. After a moment, he lowered his arm.
    â€œYou really don’t know, do you?” His voice caught. “It must be even worse than I thought.”
    â€œSam,” I said softly. “What’s going on with you two?”
    â€œI wish I knew. Rene’s been acting weird for almost a week now. I’ve asked her what’s wrong at least a dozen times, but she keeps insisting it’s nothing—that I’m imagining things.” He barely lifted his feet as he shuffled along the dark path. “At first I thought she had the flu. But you know Rene, nothing keeps her down longer than a day or two. She’s barely eaten for an entire week. Rene never stops eating.”
    He had a point, but he hadn’t told me anything that I didn’t already know. I kept listening.
    â€œAnd she’s been acting all furtive.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œLittle things, but they add up. Not answering the phone when I call, closing her laptop when I enter the room … Even worse, she goes to bed early every night. We haven’t had sex in five days!”
    That got my attention.
    A few days of celibacy might not be unusual for most couples, but for Rene and Sam, five days had to be a record.
    â€œI know Rene. She’s definitely sick, but that’s not the only thing wrong with her.