Nude Noir

This chapter ends the Nude Noir story. I strongly recommend reading chapters 1 and 2 in order before reading this.

This story is a work of fiction. Some real institutions are mentioned, but they are used fictitiously. Insofar as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those institutions has ever behaved as do the characters in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading this.

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Ali got her limited intern license with no problems. Paul and Lilith wanted us to stay at The Cove, which made my office in downtown Tampa very inconvenient. Besides that, my old office was a dump. Ali found us a storefront space in a strip center several miles south of The Cove on US 41. The one drawback was that the entire front of the space was a clear plate glass window. That would largely preclude in-office nudity. Ali solved that problem by sweet-talking the landlord into giving us a set of blinds that covered the entire front. We could open and close them at our discretion. When closed, the side of the blinds facing the parking lot and street showed the message “Private Investigators” above the larger word “CONFIDENTIAL,” with our phone number at the bottom.

Ali, who was the resident expert, also decreed that my desktop computer was wholly inadequate. When she finished compiling her hardware and software shopping list, I found a bank which would loan us the $ 25,000 required. The first thing Ali and I ever signed jointly was a promissory note.

The computer investment proved its worth early. An architectural firm hired us after it fell prey to a phishing scam which led to $ 300,000 being transferred out of its account. The police and the firm’s bank determined the money had gone somewhere overseas and gave up. Ali was able to charm a bank IT guy into letting her into the bank’s computers to trace the transfer. Ali followed the money to the Latvian account of a firm with no apparent existence beyond that account. She hacked the Latvian bank and transferred the money back to our client. She promised there would be no blowback. The Latvian bank’s computers would show a hack from an ISP address assigned to the Russian government. Our bonus for that job equaled my gross the year before.

We continued to work for Paul and Lilith Westerfeld. Due to Kim Bowen, we did background checks on all their employees. We learned that the Westerfelds owned another, larger resort called Cypress Stand outside Orlando. CS had more indoor facilities, like pools and hot tubs, than The Cove and did better business in winter. Ali and I stayed at CS for a couple of days while I assessed physical security and Ali assessed cyber-security. It amused me that I was being paid to wander around buck naked.

Around Ali’s and my “first anniversary,” we got an unusual assignment from Paul and Lilith. There was a resort along I-75 south of Gainesville, called BT Resort. The owners wanted to sell out to the Westerfelds. BTR was more “adult-themed” than The Cove and CS. Paul and Lilith wanted to know what that meant and the usual things like condition of the physical plant, room for expansion, etc. The Westerfelds asked us to go to BTR as guests and report back.

Ali and I got a room for Thursday and Friday nights the weekend before Halloween. Our first impression of BTR was disappointing. The property had obviously been one of those chain motels that were built at Interstate exits in the 1960s. This one had apparently been built in an L shape around a small swimming pool. The pool was now enclosed by an opaque fence. There were enclosed walkways running from the original structure to two metal buildings: one in part of what had been the parking lot and the other nestled against the Interstate right-of-way fence.

Ali and I shared a dubious look as we went to check in. A bored young woman stood at a computer terminal behind a chest-high counter. We had to show photo IDs and the woman spent some time scrolling on her terminal screen before she took my credit card. We were given two key cards and buzzed through a solid door opposite the one leading outside. We were also given a brochure titled “Welcome to BT Resort.” The introduction said “BT stands for broken taboos. You are encouraged to break taboos, both societal and personal, during your stay. Please be aware that all forms of sexual conduct between consenting heterosexuals are permitted and encouraged anywhere within BT Resort. LGBTQ sexual conduct is permitted and encouraged in the LGBTQ Space. We also encourage all members of the straight and LGBTQ communities to try the sexual practices of the other community during your stay.” After we read that, Ali joked, “Ian, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Behind reception was a restaurant/bar which had been opened up so that the bar also served the pool. There were about a couple dozen people around the pool, but none in it. No one was completely nude, but most people’s outfits left their asses bare and exposed tits, pubes, or both.

Ali said, “Ian, I didn’t bring anything appropriate to wear here.” We solved problem in a small shop that had been made from a couple of guest rooms. The shop was priced for a captive clientele, but we figured we could claim a few items as reimbursable expenses. Ali found a transparent bodysuit with small stars woven into the material. “I can wear this for the evenings,” she said. Ali picked out black and dark blue spandex pouches for me to wear. A patch of the material covering my dick was attached with Velcro so Ali could expose me if she chose to.

Before we checked out, Ali stopped at a shelf filled with what looked to me like dog collars. “You know what these are, don’t you?” Ali asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” Ali said, “these are sub collars. The submissive in a D-S relationship wears this around her neck to show that she is ‘owned’ by a dom. As I understand the etiquette, anyone else who wants to interact with an ‘owned’ sub needs to get her dom’s permission first.” Ali picked up a collar, held it against her throat, and looked in a mirror. “It might save me some hassle to wear one here.”

“I’d never claim to ‘own’ you,” I said.

“Of course not,” Ali replied sweetly. “We’re partners. We have equal ownership of each other.”

Our room was what I expected. It likely had not been refurbished since before Ali was born. There was an air conditioner built into the outside wall below a sealed window that looked out on vacant land. To the far right, I periodically saw the top of a semi on the Interstate. The room’s door opened onto a concrete walkway from which we could look down on the pool and patio bar. I noticed that some of the concrete was crumbling and there was rust on the supporting steel.

We hadn’t seen any other places to eat as we came in, and we were there to assess the “resort,” so we ate in the resort restaurant. Ali looked gorgeous and very sexy in her bodysuit. I wasn’t sure I liked the symbolism, but the collar around her throat was erotic. She drew attention as we walked and were seated.

Our server was pleasant, attentive, and good-looking. She introduced herself as Patty. She was a blonde, about Ali’s age, in high heels, a thong, and a transparent top. She also wore rather thick padded cuffs around her wrists and ankles with hooks on them. Being ignorant in the ways of BTR, I asked Patty about the cuffs.

Patty giggled. “Those are for what we call ‘inverse tips.’ At the end of the meal, if you didn’t like the service, or just feel like it, you can take me over there.” Patty pointed to a large wooden X- shaped frame against a wall. There were short chains at each end of the X and paddles hanging on the wall next to it. “You hook those chains to my cuffs so I can’t move,” Patty explained, “and use one of those paddles to spank me.” Patty giggled. “Some nights, my ass is red for the whole shift.” I glanced at Ali. Her expression said she was not impressed.

When Patty brought our after-dinner drinks, Ali said to her, “This is our first time here. What do people do in the evening?”

“Everything is in the outbuildings,” Patty replied. “If you take the walkway towards the Interstate, you’ll be in the LGBTQ Space. I don’t go there a lot, but it can be fun to watch. The walkway at the end of this building goes to the dungeon and the auditorium. The dungeon is what you’d expect: bondage and S & M.” Patty pointed at a very fit young man wearing a pouch like mine. “Gary, my boyfriend, and I work in the auditorium after we get off here at 9:30. It is fun. There is a bar at the back. They’ve got bleachers, like you’d see in a high school gym, and a performance area.”

I thought I knew the answer, but I asked anyway. “What sort of performances do they have?”

“When you go in, there’s a girl at the door, Jenny. You can give Jenny your first names and sit down. Sometime during the night, she’ll call your names. When she does, you come to a small room underneath the bleachers. Gary and I undress you. Then you go out to the performance area. There’s a padded table with a sheet on it. You can use that or not as you like. You can fuck, suck, masturbate, whatever you like. You just have to come for the audience. Once you’re done, Gary and I come out, change the sheet, clean up, and Jenny calls two more names.”

“What if none of the guests give their names?” Ali asked.

Patty smiled. “In that case, Gary and I perform. If no one volunteers for the whole night, we alternate between Gary and me and Jenny and Ron. Sometimes, if it’s slow, Vicky will come out from the bar and we do a threesome.” We left Patty a large tip.

After dinner, Ali said, “We need to look around. Want to try the LGBTQ Space first?” I nodded. We walked around the pool and along the walkway. As I opened the door for Ali, the first thing I saw was a nude person with shoulder-length blonde hair, a gorgeous face with a touch of make-up, big tits, and a dick hanging between his/her legs. A man with some sort of a cage around his dick came up to the blonde, began kissing her/him, then knelt and started giving a blowjob. We left the LGBTQ Space.

The dungeon was the busiest place we had seen at BTR. Just in front of us as we walked in was an attractive woman bent over the edge of a table. She was nude. Her hands were held by clamps attached to the table and her feet were clamped to the floor. Behind her, a large tattooed man was flogging her ass with a whip. He had already drawn blood.

Ali and I took a quick walk around the dungeon and saw several similar sights. Despite what appeared to be massive infliction of pain, everyone seemed quite happy. Ali turned to me and said, “I’m not into this.” I agreed with her. Not to be judgmental, but I could not understand why someone would want to inflict pain on their partner. It was utterly impossible for me to intentionally do something that would leave a cut or welt on Ali.

As we entered the auditorium, an attractive brunette asked “Would you like to perform this evening?”

Without thinking, or asking Ali, I said, “no thank you.” Patty’s description was perfect. Ali and I joined five other couples looking down at a brightly lit patch of floor with a table, or something, in the center covered by a sheet. When nothing happened for a few minutes, I asked Ali if she wanted a drink.

Ali seemed a little upset with me as she said “Yes, please.” I walked down and behind the bleachers to where a full bar was set up just out from the metal wall. The bar was tended by a young blonde-haired woman wearing just a thong. I assumed she was Vicky.

As Vicky brought me our drinks, I asked “is it typically this quiet?”

“Thursday is always slow,” Vicky replied. “Tomorrow and Saturday, from ten o’clock on, we’ll be at least three-quarters full. Even then, though, not that many people will perform. Mainly, they just drink and watch Patty and Gary or Jenny and Ron. I don’t get that. I’ve fucked in front of an audience. It’s the most erotic experience I’ve ever had.”

I took the drinks back to Ali and told her what Vicky had told me. The woman from the door, Jenny I assumed, walked to the center of the floor, and announced, “Betty and Fred.” An older, heavyset couple stood and tentatively began climbing down the bleachers. Betty wore a teddy-type garment and Fred wore a pair of what looked like leather briefs. Jenny led them under the portion of the bleachers to our left.

A couple of minutes later, Betty and Fred walked out onto the floor completely nude. They stood as if they didn’t know what to do for a moment before they kissed. Fred put a hand on one of Betty’s tits. Betty wrapped a hand around Fred’s dick. A short time later, Betty was on her back on the table and Fred was fucking her. There was nothing inherently sexy about Betty and Fred. That they were fucking so ten other people could watch them was arousing.

Betty and Fred didn’t last long. When they were done, Patty and Gary, now both nude, came out, cleaned the padded table, and spread a new sheet. Then, Patty began stroking Gary and Gary started fingering Patty. When Gary was hard, he got on the table on his back. Patty got over him with her cunt above his face. Patty started sucking Gary and Gary started eating Patty. Patty and Gary were sexy, attractive, and experienced. Again, though, the most arousing part of their performance was that they were doing it for the purpose of being watched.

It seemed like Patty was orgasming when she let Gary’s dick out of her mouth. However, she held him so that he shot into her face. When they finished, they got off the table and stood for applause, Patty smiled with Gary’s come still all over her face.

Patty and Gary again cleaned the table and changed the sheet again. After several minutes, Jenny walked “onstage” with a fit young man I’d not seen before. He was nude. She was wearing a gauzy maroon teddy. The man laid a tube on the table. Jenny began stroking his dick, then knelt and took him in her mouth. Once the man was hard, Jenny released him and stood up. He pealed the teddy off her shoulders and down her body. Jenny turned her back to us, wiggled her bare ass invitingly, and then turned her side to us and bent over. The man took the tube and squeezed some of its contents on his finger. He stuck that finger in Jenny’s ass and twisted it. He repeated that process a couple more times before shoving his dick in Jenny’s ass. The young man pumped her ass while Jenny fingered herself.

I hadn’t had anal sex at that time. For some reason, it struck me as even more private than vaginal sex. That Jenny and the man were doing it, and she was masturbating, in front of us, seemed the ultimate in exhibitionism. Both Jenny and the young man yelped and shuddered at about the same time. After he pulled out, she stayed bent over, but turned her ass back to face us again. The man spread her cheeks so we could see his come running out of Jenny’s asshole. That was when Ali grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go. I’m too horny!”

As we walked out the door of the auditorium, now tended by Patty, Ali reached down and pulled the patch off the front of my pouch. My hard-on sprang out and up. Ali grabbed it and started to lead me. I heard Patty say “nice!”

We didn’t make it to the room. Instead, I pealed Ali bodysuit off her beside the pool then dropped what remained of my pouch. Ali dove in and I followed. She leaned against the side of the pool in water about chest deep. I entered her. We made love in an outdoor pool at night in late October.

We spent much of Friday looking at the condition of the resort as unobtrusively as possible. It didn’t look good. Around four o’clock, we sat t one of the outdoor bar tables by the pool. It was much warmer than it had been the night before. I was wearing my pouch. Ali wore a pair of panties and her collar. The same waitress we had the night before, Patty, came out to serve us in just a thong.

When she brought our drinks, Patty stayed for a moment. “What did you think of the show last night?”

“You and Gary and Jenny and the other man were great,” I said.

Patty giggled. “It looked like you had enjoyed it when you left. You must admire Betty and Fred though. They aren’t beautiful, but they fucked in front of strangers. I think that is so sweet.” Patty went off to serve other customers. She was back a few minutes later. “Come back tonight,” she said. “The crowd will be larger. That doesn’t necessarily mean many more people will volunteer, but Gary and I and Jenny and Ron get into it more if there are more people. I was shitting myself before I did it the first time, but I will tell you that fucking in front of a room full of strangers is just about my favorite sexual experience. Knowing that those people are watching you build up to it and then see you come is intensely erotic.”

We finished our drinks. “You want to manufacture some question to see how the front desk performs today?” Ali asked. “I’d like to just sit here for a bit.” I got up and went inside to ask for the fastest route to Jacksonville. I thought that was simple enough but the woman behind the desk had to call someone before she could tell me that it was more miles but probably faster to go north on 75 to I-10 and east on 10 to Jacksonville. Ali was talking to Patty again when I came back out. Patty left and came back with the second round of drinks.

I suppressed an urge to look for fast food along the Interstate and we suffered the resort’s food for a second night. The upside was that Patty waited on us a third time. She had changed into a different see-through top and a pair of see-through bottoms. “The State says my pubes have to be covered when I’m serving,” she explained, “but it doesn’t say you aren’t allowed to see them.”

Ali and Patty were quite friendly to each other. Ali seemed to be dragging dinner out, taking more time than usual to make her choices. She also ordered dessert, something she never does. We were the last customers in the dining area when we finished. Gary had been cleaning up around us. When Patty brought out the check, she said, “Gary and I are going over for our shift in the auditorium, want to come with us?”

“You don’t want to see the LGBTQ room or the dungeon again, do you?” Ali asked.

“Not really,” I replied.

“Then,” Ali said, “let’s walk over with Patty and Gary.” We did. I already liked Patty and, in the short walk to the auditorium, formed a favorable impression of Gary. Jenny gave us a big smile as we walked in. Ali smiled back.

At the base of the bleachers, Patty said, “You guys get seats. Gary and I have to get undressed.” The bleachers were not completely full, but Ali and I had to sit just two rows from the top. Like the night before, nothing happened for a while. Jenny finally walked out, in a yellow teddy that night, and said, “Our first couple for the evening are Ali and Ian.”

I looked at Ali. She giggled and said, “I had Patty sign us up while you were at the front desk this afternoon. Come on. No one here knows us and Patty and Vicky both told you how great it is.” Ali stood up. The audience began clapping. I had not gotten up. Ali looked down at me and used the phrase I could never resist: “Ian, please! I want to do this!”

I stood and followed Ali down the bleachers. The applause got louder, with some wolf-whistles mixed in. Jenny pointed us to the end of the bleachers to our left. We walked to where a nude Patty stood in the doorway a small shed. I followed Ali inside where Gary was waiting. Patty followed me and closed the door.

“You’ve never done something like this before, have you?” Patty asked. Ali and I shook our heads. “Relax,” Patty said. “You’re going to get wet or hard every time you remember tonight.”

Gary stepped next to Ali and said, “The bodysuit looks so good on you, I hate to take it off.”

“Please do,” Ali replied. “I don’t want to tear it.” Gary carefully slid the top of the bodysuit off Ali’s shoulders and worked it down her body. As Ali was stepping out of it, Patty put her hands on the waistband of my pouch and pulled it down to my feet.

Gary stepped back and looked at Ali and me. “I don’t care if you’re clumsy as shit. The audience will love you guys.”

Patty said, “Since you may only do this once, you should fuck doggy-style. That way you can both face the audience and watch them watching you fuck. That is just incredible.”

Doggy-style is my least favorite position because I can’t see Ali’s face. Ali replied to Patty’s suggestion by saying “sounds great.”

Patty said, “Gary and I will go out and turn the table.” This was Ali’s idea, so I just went along with it. Patty and Gary went out for a short time. While they were gone, Ali kissed me. When Patty and Gary came back, Patty said, “Give them a good show.”

I followed Ali out onto the floor in front of the bleachers. It seemed like more people had come in while we were with Patty and Gary. More applause, whistles, and shouts greeted us. I was already mostly hard. Ali knelt in front of me and took me in her mouth for a few licks. That got me completely hard. Ali stood up, half turned to the audience, and gestured to my dick with both hands, like the woman displaying the prize on a game show.

Getting into it, I took Ali’s hand and led her to the table, now pointing towards the audience. Ali sat down on the edge of the table, lay back, stuck her legs in the air, spread her legs apart, and displayed herself to the audience. That was hot.

After showing off for a couple of minutes, Ali spun around and was on the table on all fours. I got on the table behind her and held her splendid ass while I slid myself into her. I started pushing, but not too hard or too fast. I wanted this to last as long as possible and was sure that Ali did too. The unfortunate thing about our position was that the audience could not really see my dick in Ali’s pussy. The upsides were that the audience saw Ali’s face and her breasts, which looked bigger hanging down; and we could see the audience.

After scanning the entire audience, I looked at individual women and tried to make eye contact. Some looked away immediately. Some look away after a few seconds. One rather attractive brunette and I looked into each other’s eyes for what seemed quite a while, until her partner said something to her. Glancing from the brunette to the end of the bleachers by the door, I saw Jenny and Vicky. When they saw me looking, both women gave the thumbs up sign.

One reason I was looking around the room was to keep from coming too soon. Patty and Vicky had been right. Making love to Ali in front of an audience was unbelievably erotic. Had I not distracted myself, I would have shot in the first minute or two.

I was having so much fun, I lost all sense of time. I hoped Ali was enjoying this as much as I was. I finally heard Ali say “ok.” I took that to mean she wanted to come. I began moving faster and harder, aiming at the spot I knew she liked best. I also leaned down on her back. I reached around her and rolled her nipples between my fingers while kissing the back of her neck. That was when I noticed that Ali had left her collar on.

Ali began pushing herself into me hard. Her pelvic muscles started to clench on me. She began to yelp, which she rarely did during sex. I stopped kissing Ali and turned my head to my right. Patty and Gary were standing nude beside the bleachers holding hands. Patty mouthed the word “come.”

I don’t know that Ali saw Patty, but it might as well have been a cue. Ali clenched down hard on me as she shoved herself into me and moaned loudly. That sound and sensation were it for me. I began to shoot. I felt Ali collapse underneath me. As I shot a second time, my vision went and there was nothing but silence for a moment. When normal perceptions returned, I was lying on top of Ali.

It took a moment before I was able to get up. When I did, Ali said “Ian, help me.” I put my feet, shakily, on the floor, wrapped an arm around Ali’s waist, and lifted her off the table. I quickly spun her around so that I was holding her face up with one arm around her shoulders and the other under her thighs. Ali put her arms around my neck, and we kissed for a long time.

I had been so focused on Ali and the sensations I was feeling, I had forgotten about the audience. When they came back into my consciousness, I realized they were applauding us. I set Ali down on her feet. She gave me another quick kiss on the lips, then bent down and kissed the head of my dick.

Patty and Gary came out and led us back to the shed. “Back in a second,” Patty said. She and Gary went out to clean up after us and change the sheet. When they came back, carrying the used sheet, Patty said, “That was great! You fucked for over half an hour.”

Ali asked Patty, “De we have to get dressed?”

“Hell no,” Patty replied. She put Ali’s bodysuit and my pouch into a small plastic grocery store bag. We slipped on our sandals and went out nude and back up to our seats in the bleachers. We watched Jenny and Ron fuck in missionary position, followed by Patty and Gary in a position I’d not seen before. Apparently, Ali and I were the only volunteers that night.

Despite the fun we had and knowing that it might cost Patty and Gary jobs they enjoyed, Ali and I gave Paul and Lilith a negative report on BT Resort. They decided not to buy the resort.

The holidays were difficult. Ali insisted that I accompany her to see her parents in Sarasota. I was not welcomed. That led to a “scene” on Christmas Day, when Ali declared to her family that we were business partners, lovers, and together for life. That went over badly. Our Christmas dinner was leftovers from our fridge at The Cove.

This is a digression, but I think useful to the story. Ali sometimes got on an old movie kick. One evening that winter, we were watching the old adventure film “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” which I had first seen years ago when it came out. I always had the nagging thought that Ali looked like someone else I had seen in a different context, but I could not think who. Watching the movie that night, it came to me: Ali looked a lot like the female lead in the movie, an actress named Karen Allen.

Paul asked us to go back up to Cypress Stand in February to make presentations to the staff. We were supposed to warn them against employee theft, creating the false impression they could never get away with it, and sensitize them to guest misbehavior such as theft, domestic violence, and drug use. Paul and Lilith had put Pam in charge at CS not long after Pam graduated. Despite Pam and Ali having been friends in college, Pam did not receive us warmly.

Ali and I became good friends with Lilith and Paul. The four of us dined together at least once a week. During one of those dinners Paul said there might be a drug problem at Cypress Stand. Employees had called him directly.

“They reported that information to Pam, correct?” Ali asked.

“They say they did,” Paul responded. “She hasn’t mentioned it to us. I don’t know whether she hopes the problem will just go away or she doesn’t want to admit to a problem on her watch and intends to take care of it herself.”

“That could be dangerous,” I said.

“I know,” Paul relied. “Can you help us?”

“If it is the Olmos clan again,” I said, “they know who we are and will lay low until we leave. Someone else needs to go.”

“Will you find someone?” Lilith asked.

“Sure,” I promised.

I had over-promised. I hadn’t made friends in the PI community over the years and Ali was too new. I called the lawyers I worked with for references. No one suggested was willing to go under cover at a nude resort. In desperation, I called Beth Potter to see if she had ideas. I explained the situation to Beth in detail. She said, “let me make a call or two. I’ll get back to you.”

I expected nothing from Beth, and had no Plan C. That was troubling. Paul and Lilith were great clients, good friends, and our landlords. I could not let them down. Ali half-heartedly suggested trying to recruit students at USF. “After all, I was a student when I first came up here with you on the Olmos case.” The difference, and she knew it, was that she came with an experienced cop and investigator.

The solution was a complete surprise. Beth Potter called back a couple of days later. “I talked to my friend,” she said. “We’ll go. We can both take off the Friday after next and the resort has rooms available that weekend.”

“You’ll go to a nude resort?” I asked in disbelief.

“You’re going to say something about that?” Beth shot back. “You live in one.” Point to Beth.

I called Paul and said I had someone experienced looking into the CS situation. I did not tell Paul who or when.

Beth called again two weeks later. “When we first showed up on Friday, the drug use was completely open. People were doing lines on patio tables by the pool. I can’t say your client’s daughter is involved, but she sure as hell knows about it and tolerates it. By Friday evening, it had all vanished. Clean as a whistle Friday night, all day Saturday, and Saturday night. You know as well as I do that the drugs come out on Saturday nights. My friend tried to engage some people we’d seen tooting up early Friday. Everyone played dumb. I’d think we were burned but I’ve never worked in narcotics, nor has my friend.”

“Ok, thank you Beth, and thank your friend,” I said. “I need to think what to do next. How did you like the resort?”

“You mean, did I like walking around naked, don’t you?” Beth replied.

“I was trying to be delicate,” I said.

“Don’t be,” Beth replied. “We loved it. I wish I’d started years ago when I was worth looking at. We may have to drop in and you and Allison sometime.”

“You’re always welcome,” I said. “I mean that sincerely.”

I didn’t get time to figure out what to do about what Beth had told me. We had left the security technology installed at The Cove over a year ago in place. It was just after midnight two days after I’d spoken with Beth when my phone alerted that the motion detectors had sense something in the street that bordered The Cove to the south. That wasn’t unusual. Someone had a large dog that occasionally got out at night.

I could remotely access the security cameras on that side of the property. When I did, I got a shot of adrenalin. I saw Tony Olmos pouring gasoline along The Cove’s outside fence. I also saw a large duffel bag sitting against the fence at the point closest to the hotel building. I didn’t bother to dress. I grabbed my .45 and was out the door.

I took me a couple of minutes to sprint barefoot to a service gate in the fence not far from where I’d seen Tony. The gate was for maintenance use only, but I had every security code on the property memorized. I went through the gate in time to see Tony, about ten yards away, lighting a homemade torch.

I assumed a shooter’s stance with the .45 pointing at Tony. From behind, I heard Ali yell, “Ian, down.” I dove as I heard a loud bang. Tony went down. He must have been sloppy with the gas because his lower body caught fire immediately. Thankfully, the flames did not spread.

Still holding the .45 in front of me, I started to stand up. Something moved to my right. A darkened car was parked beside the road. The driver’s window was coming down. I went flat again as two shots whizzed over me and shattered part of the fence. The car’s engine started. The dashboard lights illuminated a face I recognized. I raised to one knee and aimed carefully just in front of the driver.

The .45 obliterated the windshield in front of Pam Westerfeld. Undeterred, she put the car in gear and started to pull away. I put a round each into her front and rear driver’s side tires. She kept going until a deputy pulled his cruiser across the street in front of her a half block from 41.

Tony Olmos was on fire. I didn’t care about him. Ali was somewhere behind me. My concern was that she was ok.

Ali, unharmed, crouched in the shadows across the street from The Cove. Her gun was aimed at a woman lying on the pavement. I saw what I thought was blood beside the woman. A nine-millimeter pistol lay about a foot from her hand. I used a stick to pick the pistol up by its trigger guard. Ali and I went about ten feet further down the street and put the nine-millimeter and our two guns on the pavement. We then backed up another ten or so feet and stood nude, arms at our sides, as Pasco County deputies came towards us with guns drawn.

I told the deputies, repeatedly, about the duffel bag Tony had put by the fence. Apparently, the deputies thought that nothing a naked man said need be taken seriously. They had Ali and me sit on the pavement on our bare asses. Someone put Tony out with a fire extinguisher. Ambulances took him and the unidentified young woman away. A deputy with his weapon unholstered watched us.

Things improved when Pasco County Lieutenant Steve Paddorn arrived and took charge. I told Paddorn about the duffel. He had the scene evacuated and radioed his dispatch to make an emergency call for Hillsborough County’s bomb disposal team.

Paddorn was walking Ali and me, both still nude, to a cruiser. I said, “I work for that resort. There are security cameras that should show you exactly what happened.”

“Let’s go,” Paddorn responded.

We walked through The Cove’s front entrance. Heading to the interior office with the monitors, we ran into Paul and Lilith. I gave them a quick synopsis of what happened, said that Pam had been arrested. Paul and Lilith both looked like they’d been gut-punched.

The security camera did all I’d hoped for. We saw a white car come down the street slowly, go out of frame, come back the opposite way, and park just off the street. Tony got out and took the duffel and a five-gallon gas can from the trunk. As he placed the duffel and started spreading gas, the unidentified woman got out and moved into the shadows. We saw me come out the service gate with Ali a few steps behind me. I had forgotten that Tony put down the gas can and backed up before he lit his torch.

We replayed the next few seconds in slow motion to get the exact sequence. The unidentified woman stepped into street. I went down almost simultaneously with the flash from her gun. Tony went down. A fraction of a second later, Ali’s gun flashed. The unknown woman went down. I started to get up and a gun in the car flashed twice. The car lit up and my gun flashed three times. The car kept going. The camera showed the back of the car clearly. It was a Mercedes 350. We could read the Florida plate number. I learned later that Paul and Lilith had given the car to Pam the preceding Christmas.

The woman Ali shot was Isabella Olmos, Tony’s little sister. Tony was severely burned, but the autopsy determined his burns were mostly post-mortem. Isabella’s shot had gone through Tony’s aorta. At that distance in that poor light, it was a hell of a shot even if Isabella had meant to shoot me.

The duffel bag was packed with dynamite. Tony had soaked the duffel with gasoline and apparently assumed fire would detonate the explosives. I was told that was unlikely. If it had worked, it would have destroyed The Cove’s hotel building and several surrounding houses. Police estimated that such an explosion that night would have killed between 10 and 25 people.

Isabella Olmos and Pam Westerfeld were both charged with committing terroristic acts for placing the dynamite, attempted murder of me, conspiracy to commit arson, and felony murder because Tony was killed during those other crimes. In theory, they could each get the death penalty.

Isabella cracked and made a deal with the State. She pled guilty to attempted murder and arson and spilled her guts. Paddorn shared her story with me.

The Olmos family, led by their mother Consuela, were relatively small-time dealers in Miami. Isabella, the youngest, was Consuela’s favorite and mother insisted that Isabella go to college. Isabella met Pam Westerfeld in their freshman year at USF. The women became close friends. Isabella dropped out during her junior year when a larger, more violent dealer in Miami gave the Olmos family specific reasons to leave South Florida.

Pam got the Olmos family to move to Tampa Bay and developed a plan for them to deal drugs at The Cove. Isabella said that Pam resented that her parents had “made” her go to USF. Pam thought she should go to the Ivy League instead and believed that she couldn’t because her parents’ money went into their resorts instead of her education. Paul and Lilith lived at The Cove and were attached to it. Pam thought that The Cove’s business would be destroyed when word got out that drugs were dealt there. That would be her retribution for the “unfair” treatment from her parents.

When Ali and I showed up, the Olmos clan was making good money at The Cove and Tony was fucking the barmaid Kim Bowen. Tony figured that Ali and I were the cause when Ricardo and the others were busted that Labor Day weekend. Tony was enraged at Kim for introducing us to them and killed her the day after the bust.

Isabella said that Pam was also fucking Tony by that time. Pam gave Tony the information he used to take shots at Ali near USF. Our boat trip with Pam and Mitch was arranged to give Tony a chance to kill Ali and me. Tony got a scumbag buddy to drive. He was the shooter who wounded me and killed a small child.

After the boy was killed, Pam and Tony chilled for a time. When Lilith and Paul gave Pam management of Cypress Stand, Pam decided a nude resort was the perfect place for Tony, wanted for Kim Bowen’s murder, to hide. Sex was also more convenient. Tony decided that they could make money selling drugs at CS. Isabella came to CS to help and, by her own admission, often made a threesome with Pam and her brother.

Pam recognized Beth Potter when Beth went to CS. Pam knew Beth was investigating the April marina shooting. Pam concluded Beth’s presence at CS meant Tony and Pam had been connected to that shooting. Things seemed to be falling apart. Pam blamed her parents. Tony blamed Ali and me. They attacked The Cove as retribution against all of us. Pam knew about the security system. She wanted to be detected and wanted me to come out. Tony had a gun and was supposed to shoot me. Isabella was the back-up to shoot Ali if she came with me. The fire and dynamite were for mom and dad.

Pam Westerfeld never told her version. Pam refused any plea deals and went to trial the winter after what media called the “Nudist Resort Shootout.” Pam was convicted of everything except felony murder of Tony. She got concurrent sentences, the most severe of which was 25 to 40 years. She was convicted in Orange County of conspiracy to sell drugs at CS and got another 10 to 12 years. If Pam kept a spotless record in prison and said all the right things to the parole board, she might be out in just under 30 years.

Pam did hurt her parents’ business. Adverse publicity about the crimes CS’s general manager killed that resort. Paul and Lilith closed it and sold the property. Although The Cove was their home, Paul and Lilith talked about closing it. The residents and some regulars formed a support group for the Westerfelds and The Cove survived.

I had expected Paul and Lilith to resent our role in Pam’s downfall. However, they seemed grateful and gave Ali and me a twenty-year rent-free lease on Unit 7. In return, we agreed to “supervise” security at The Cove.

I talked to Beth Potter many times and lunched with her occasionally after the “Shootout.” Those conversations never mentioned her first experience with social nudity, at my request. Then, Beth called on a Friday about a year after the “Shootout.” “Ian,” she said, “you remember after my friend and I came back from Cypress Stand, I said that we might visit you and Ali at Bougainvillea Cove?”

“Yes,” I said.

“May we come up next weekend?” Beth asked. “My friend and I can both take next Friday off.”

“Sure,” I replied. “I can get you a hotel room or you’re welcome to our guest bedroom.”

“Your guest room is free?” Beth asked.

“Yes,” I replied with a chuckle.

“Great!” Beth said. “We’ll take the guest room. I’ll call next Friday when we’re leaving down here.”

Beth called around noon the following Friday. After I hung up, I got a strange anxiety about being nude in front of Beth. “Do you think we ought to get dressed at least to greet them?” I asked Ali.

Ali laughed at me. “Ian, this is a nude resort. Beth and her friend are coming here so they can go nude for the weekend. No, we are not getting dressed to greet them.”

Ali and I were nude when we answered the door. Beside Beth stood a tall, slightly older woman with copper-colored hair. “Ali, Ian,” Beth said, “this is my friend Sarah Jane Stancik. She goes by Sally.” We said our greetings. Something bothered me. I didn’t recognize Beth’s friend, but I had heard her name. Finally, I simply asked why her name sounded familiar.

“I expect you’ve heard of me because I was promoted to SAC of the Bureau’s Tampa office late last year,” she said. “I was deputy SAC here for 18 months before that. I understand you used to work in our office Ian.” That was not a subject I wanted to talk about.

Beth quickly said, “Where can we put our clothes? I want to get to the pool.” Ali led the women upstairs to the guest bedroom across the hall from ours. A few minutes later, Beth and Sally came downstairs carrying beach bags. They were nude except for flip-flops.

Ali and I led our guests to the pool. I pulled together four empty lounge chairs and got us drinks. As I walked carefully back from the bar, I saw Beth and Sally kiss quickly.

Cops, and ex-cops, love to talk about old cases. As we sunned and drank, the obvious topic was the Olmos/Westerfeld case. Ali and I recounted everything we’d learned. When we finished, Sally asked, “Wasn’t Pam Westerfeld the person who initially brought you together?”

“That’s right,” Ali said. “Ian needed a woman to accompany him here and Pam recruited me.”

“Why did she do that?” Sally asked.

“I haven’t figured that out,” I replied.

Ali reached from her lounger and took my hand. “I’m damned glad she did,” Ali said.