Ten Little Bimbos

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Synopsis: Ten strangers are brought to a remote island resort under false pretenses. The reason soon becomes all too clear.

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With apologies to Dame Agatha Christie, who did it first and better.

Cast of characters

Elizabeth Besting

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Socialite. Traveling to Beau Island to sign a modelling contract.

Hannah Evens

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Beau Island Resort maid.

Rena Lacke

-

Psychiatrist. Traveling to Beau Island to negotiate a contract for a talk show.

Dr. Cara Lin

-

Doctor. Professional medical license presently revoked. Reasons for traveling to Beau Island unknown.

Joan McKatt

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Private detective. Ex-cop. Reasons for traveling to Beau Island unknown.

Sam Morton

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Darkview strip bar owner/operator. Traveling to Beau Island Resort for vacation.

Eric Parker

-

Beau Island Resort chef. Married to Tori Parker.

Tori Parker

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Beau Island Resort manager. Married to Eric Parker.

Aubrey Rush

-

Professor of Archeology at University of Chrystal Heights. Traveling to Beau Island Resort to secure funding for next expedition.

Paul Straight

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Beau Island Resort security specialist.

Ten Little Bimbos

A.K.A.- And Then They Were Dumb

By: Chrystal Wynd

Part 1

"You bloody maniac!"

Rena Lacke

shook her head as she watched the motorcycle taillight shrink in the distance. The bike had blasted past her like she was standing still.

Crazy bikers. They were all over Chrystal Heights. It was amazing there were any left alive. Riding a motorcycle was practically a death sentence in Rena's book.

Granted, the biker wasn't likely to run into much traffic out here. In fact, he wasn't going to run into

any

traffic, since this road led directly to the dock. The biker was almost certainly a fellow guest at the Beau Island resort.

Rena shook her head in resignation. Considering the exclusive nature of the resort, she was surprised they'd take somebody who thought riding a motorcycle like a lunatic was a good idea.

Then again, Rena herself hardly qualified as an A-list invitee.

Not yet, anyway,

she corrected herself. But soon. Very soon. And why not? She'd certainly worked hard enough to get where she was.

Rena allowed herself a brief smile. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty when it came to getting what she wanted. This weekend would be no exception.

A repetitive car horn caught Rena's attention. Glancing into her rearview mirror, she saw flashing headlights. Then the lights moved from behind her and into the lane beside her, even though that lane was for traffic going into the opposite direction.

The car accelerated and effortlessly caught up with Rena, momentarily pacing her. Glancing over, Rena saw the vehicle was a powerful, high-end Lexus, driven by a red-haired woman who was every bit as gorgeous and chic as the machine she operated.

The red-haired coquette gave Rena a lazy glance, then pursed her lips and blew a kiss. A moment later she was gone, the Lexus taillights disappearing almost as quickly as the motorcycle's had minutes earlier.

Rena shook her head again. Crazy bikers and arrogant socialites. It could only get better from here.

*****

"You fucking wench!"

Aubrey Rush

pulled off her motorcycle helmet and glared at her silent black Harley Davidson. She held the glare for several seconds, then relented and resignedly ran her fingers through her short brown hair.

As motorcycles went, the powerful bike was normally very dependable. But not this time. And it wasn't very nice of her to leave Aubrey stranded out here in the middle of nowhere.

She briefly looked over the bike engine and checked a few hoses, but it was still too hot for a full going-over. Aubrey didn't have the time, anyway. She'd have to hitch a ride to the dock and worry about fixing the bike later.

Of course, someone would come along sooner or later. Anybody catching the ferry to the Beau Island Resort had to take this road to get to the dock, so at least she wouldn't be stuck here too long. And considering how desolate the immediate area was- there was nothing but trees in either direction from the road- her bike would likely be safe enough while she was at the resort for the weekend. So now all she had to do was flag a ride.

Aubrey walked the short distance to the road. Almost on cue a car appeared, growing larger as it drew closer. Aubrey stepped into the road and crossed her hands over her head.

The Lexus stopped, sleek and silver. The driver's window lowered.

Aubrey walked to the side of the car and looked inside. The woman driving the car appeared to be flawless, with smooth, sculpted features and untouchable perfection. The metallic-red shade of her hair obviously came from a bottle, but the long, straight style just as obviously came from a high-end salon.

The Lexus driver offered a tolerant smile. "Broken down, sweetie?"

Aubrey nodded. "Yes," she said. "You're going to the Beau Island Resort, I assume?"

"I am," said the redhead, "so don't worry...I'll let them know you're on your way. I won't let them leave until you get there."

It took Aubrey a moment to process the words. Then her eyebrows rose. "Wait...what do you mean? You won't give me a ride?"

The Lexus driver laughed. "Of course not, honey! You're covered in grease and oil."

"It's just my hands and it'll wipe-"

"Besides," continued the redhead, as if Aubrey hadn't been speaking, "I passed another car on my way here. I'm

sure

they'll stop for you. So just sit tight and everything'll be ducky, sweetie."

The redhead pursed her dark red lips then and blew Aubrey a kiss. Then she stepped on the gas and pulled away.

Aubrey stared incredulously after the disappearing Lexus, her jaw hanging.

Wow. The redhead had been amazingly rude. Hot as fuck, true, but arrogant as all hell. Still, annoying as the stuck-up witch had been, she'd been right about one thing. Another vehicle was already in sight.

This time the car pulled to the side of the road. The window slid down, revealing a woman with hair that appeared to be a variety of colors.

The driver smiled. "Bad day?"

Aubrey noted the slight British inflection in the driver's voice. "Yeah," she said. "Something like that. Are you going to the ferry?"

"I am," she said. "You are too, I take it?"

"I was," said Aubrey, "until Rhiannon decided to throw a ring."

"Rhiannon?"

"My motorcycle," said Aubrey. "That's her name."

"I see," said the driver, her slight accent giving the statement observational depth. "Your own fault, then. That's what you get for giving a Celtic name to a Japanese machine."

"Japanese?!" said Aubrey. "That's a Harley, you heathen. It's an American goddess."

"Heathen?! I just may make you walk for that. Heathen, indeed."

Aubrey said, "It's not my fault you have no taste."

The driver looked at Aubrey, a smile playing on her lips. "No taste, you say? I see. And what might your name be?"

"Aubrey."

"Very well, Aubrey," said the driver. "I am Rena. Now please get in so I can begin the process of explaining the concept of standards to you. Will her ladyship be all right here?"

"She'll be fine," said Aubrey. "Just give me a minute to get her away from the road and covered."

Aubrey grabbed the handlebars and rolled the motorcycle out of sight. She quickly cleaned the grease from her hands, then unstrapped her duffel bag and covered the Harley. She slung the bag over her shoulder then and walked toward the car.

As she slid into the front seat, Aubrey briefly wondered if she should tell Rena just how wet she was.

*****

The silver Lexus pulled into the parking lot and slid to a stop, occupying two spaces. The engine cut off and the driver's door opened.

Elizabeth Besting

stepped out of the sleek luxury vehicle, her red hair barely stirred by the wind. Her short skirt and refined blouse appeared to have fallen off a fashion model moments before landing on her and showed her figure to specific effect. She paused briefly as she exited the car, assuming what some might correctly call a pose. Then she shut the door and made her way toward the steps leading down to the dock, moving as casually in her four-inch heels as she might have in tennis shoes.

Elizabeth's moves were as polished as her features. Perhaps more. After all, she knew she had only one chance to make a first impression. And you never knew who might be watching.

Of course, she was on the verge of moving beyond worrying about others' opinion of her. In fact, this weekend would likely stand as her future reference point as to when her life changed.

The thought cheered her. She assumed an icy expression and made her way toward the small group gathered by the ferry.

*****

The two men and two women waiting on the dock next to the ferry admired both the car as it parked and the driver as she exited the vehicle. They watched as the red-haired woman made her way onto the dock.

Arrogant strut,

thought

Joan McKatt

as she watched Elizabeth descend the stairs to the dock.

Makeup straight out of a YouTube tutorial. Clothes are cutting edge fashion, acts like she couldn't care less. Friends probably tell her she should be a model and she believes them.

Appraisal finished, Joan mentally filed the socialite under

typical young rich bitch

. It had taken the black ex-cop less than two seconds to read and assess Elizabeth. Satisfied, Joan turned her attention to the tall, thin man with the shock of black hair. He was telling another story about his Darkview bar.

"So Starlight tries to do a 'Flashdance' move and

bam!

...she knocks Cinnamon right off the stage! Cinnamon lands hard, takes out two tables and is laying on the floor, eyes crossed, ass in the air. Everyone is silent. Then Cinnamon stands up and says, 'Andre, I'll have the veal parmigiana. Make it to go.' Everyone pops their nuts laughing. Cost me a small fortune in free drinks, but it worked out fine."

Sam Morton

smiled as the other man laughed appreciatively at his story. Sam noted that the two women did not appear to be amused. He mentally shrugged. They were probably on the rag or something. Chicks always had some kind of phantom condition or something going on.

Women weren't bad once you trained them, of course. Teach them their place, teach them what they're for. Give 'em some big popping titties, put 'em on stage, teach them how to show off the goods, teach 'em how to bring in the money. Once they learned how to suck a mean cock, take it up the ass like a pro, how to shake that fucking ass, then they were worth something. Not much, but at least they were worth something then.

Women

, thought Sam,

are just life support systems for pussy.

Dr.Cara Lin

glared at the back of Sam's head as if she knew what he was thinking.

Typical man,

she thought.

They're all the same.

The short Asian woman shook her head slightly and looked away. She decided to think positive thoughts in an effort to control her revulsion.

After a few moments, she nodded. A few small improvements would almost assuredly make that bar owner Mr. Morton much more likeable, thought Dr. Lin. Dr. Lin smiled at the sudden mental image of Sam with large, rounded breasts, smooth supple limbs, lovely curved hips. Clean lines. No ugly external genitalia. Pretty face. No course black stubble.

Art. He would be art then.

Paul Straight

was still smiling at Sam's story. Sam was an abrasive asshole, to be sure, but an amusing one. Probably fun to drink with.

Paul looked around the dock. Almost everyone was here. They'd be loading the ferry soon and heading to Beau Island. It was almost sure to be a good time. Pretty women, guys who liked to have fun...it was promising.

It would be fun for other reasons too, Paul had no doubt. After all, he knew more about the guests than they knew about him.

*****

Phillip Warton stepped off the boat onto the dock. The grizzled ferry pilot looked around at the passengers. It looked like everyone had arrived. Quite the colorful gathering, it seemed.

Warton's attention was immediately drawn to the redhead, Elizabeth. No surprise, of course. The thin woman was striking, if aloof. Quite the looker, but icy as a December wind. A man could catch a chill trying to talk to her, no doubt.

The tall man with the black hair and coarse laugh was Sam Morton. Now there was a guy who knew how to have a good time. He owned a strip bar in Darkview that was supposed to be one of the best. Had a shady reputation, but that was Darkview for you. Word on the street was that a lot of girls who disappeared ended up dancing on stage at Sam's club, but that was probably just urban legend.

The non-descript guy standing in the group was Paul something...Paul Straight. Seemed low-key, but he was supposedly in charge of security at the resort. He acted laid-back, but his eyes never stopped moving and he probed everything on the dock. He smiled at everybody, but the smile never touched his eyes.

The short Asian woman was Dr. Lin. Warton shook his head in disapproval. She had lost her medical license a while back for something she was involved in. He wanted to ask her about it, but he was pretty sure he'd regret it if he did. Dr. Lin hadn't said much since her arrival, but she didn't have to. It didn't take a genius to read from her body language that she hated men. Paul and Sam would be wise to watch themselves when Dr. Lin was around. Sam in particular. Warton was pretty sure the little doctor would be perfectly happy to decorate the area between his shoulder blades with a shiny scalpel.

The private detective with the dark mocha skin was McKatt. Tough-looking, she was, and didn't seem the type to take guff from anybody. She'd been a cop for a while, but she got kicked off the force for some thing or another. She had her own practice now and seemed to be doing all right. Not one to cross, though, if Warton was any judge of people.

Another car pulled in and parked. Two women got out of the vehicle.

Warton shaded his eyes, then nodded. The driver with the multi-colored hair-style had to be Rena Lacke, the shrink. Good-looking woman. Was supposedly a candidate to be a talk show host or some such. Very confident. Probably good in bed, but had a thing for women, if he remembered correctly. Warton mentally shrugged. Other fish in the sea.

The other woman had to be Aubrey Rush. Athletic build. Walked like a cat. A predatory cat. Yeah, she was a professor of archeology or something. Led a real adventurous life, by all accounts. Made the news a year or two earlier for losing some grad students on a dig or something. Something to do with the natives, if Warton remembered right. Leading that sort of life came with risks, he supposed.

And now that everybody was here, it was time to load up. He held up his hand.

"All aboard," said Warton. "If yer headin' for the Beau Island Resort, anyhow."

Then Paul Straight held up his hand. "All aboard," he said, "

after

I see your identifications, please."

"Oh?" said McKatt. "And who are you?"

Straight said, "Paul Straight. I'm in charge of security at the resort."

"I see," said McKatt, leveling a flat stare at Paul. "And do you really think someone could steal

my

identification?"

Paul gave her a tight grin. "No, I don't," he said. "But my job is to check I.D.s, so I'm checking I.D.s."

Rena glanced around, then stepped forward. "The sooner we show him our I.D.s, the sooner we can get to the resort," she said. "Here you go, Mister Straight. I respect that you have a job to do. I'm Rena Lacke and here is my identification. Let's just get to it, shall we?"

Straight made a show of checking the identification card. Then he looked up. "Thank you, Miss Lacke. Welcome aboard. Next?"

*****

The ferry was loaded in short order.

The seven passengers were seated on opposite sides of the open-air, tarp-covered boat. Morton and Straight sat on opposite sides of Elizabeth, with the bar owner telling another story while the redheaded socialite stared at her phone. Dr. Lin and McKatt sat next to each other, oblivious to potential conversation. Rena and Aubrey sat together.

Aubrey turned to Rena. "So what brings you to the Beau Resort?"

Rena smiled. "Negotiations," she said. "I'm a psychiatrist with a practice in Chrystal Heights. For some reason, the networks appear to feel I'd be a good candidate to host a talk show and they've arranged a weekend at the resort during which they'll attempt to woo me. Are you familiar with the resort, Aubrey?"

Aubrey shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "This is my first time. I'd never heard of them before now, honestly. Their website said they've been around for a while, though."

Rena breathed deep, enjoying the smell of the salt water. "And your reason for riding her ladyship out here? Are you on holiday?"

Aubrey hesitated only a moment before answering. "Holiday. Yep. Taking a break. I figure drinks next to a pool on an island is just the thing I need right now."

She's lying,

thought Rena.

I wonder why?

Out loud, she said, "That sounds like a lovely idea. Perhaps I could join you?"

Aubrey smiled. "I'm hoping you do."

Unable to pry Elizabeth's attention from her phone, Paul decided to enjoy the boat ride. The open-air aspect of the boat was perfect for enjoying the sea air. Paul reached over the side of the boat to see if he could reach the water with his fingertips.

The grizzled boat pilot shook his head and said to Paul, "I wouldn't do that if'n I was you. At least not if you're attached to yer fingers."

Paul's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Why not?"

"Sharks," said Phillip. "Big 'uns. They're all over this cut between Beau Island and the mainland. The beach on the island is fine- the waters too shallow for 'em. But you don't want to go past the rocks into the blue water."

That got everyone's attention.

Aubrey's eyes were bright. "Big sharks?"

"Yup," said Phillip, his eyes looking ahead. "A couple 'o fishermen caught a fifteen-footer last week. Had to toss it back in 'cuz it was too small."

Rena stared at the boat pilot, looking for body language signs of a lie, but Phillip didn't smile.

Everyone kept their hands inside the boat after that.

*****

Beau Resort proved to be farther out than any of the guests expected.

The island appeared to be a bare rock. The highest point of the island was the side facing the mainland. A sheer wall rose from the sea, waves crashing against the stolid rock. From that high point, the landscape sloped down and leveled out before sloping once again to the beach. It was on the level ground that Beau Resort sat.

Beau Resort had an old-fashioned look, reminiscent of turn-of-the-century hotels, but a number of modern tweaks gave the architecture a retro, art deco feel. It was a strange combination of design philosophy that, despite the contrasting presentation, somehow worked.

As the boat navigated into the small landing bay, the guests looked up toward the resort, taking in the whole island from their perspective. There was little to see outside the resort itself.

"Not quite how it's presented in the pamphlet, is it?" said Aubrey, her eyes rolling over the bare landscape, the flatness only broken by the occasional copse of trees.