“Where’s George?” Forrest asked after he had come into the room. Before his wife could answer, he reached over and kissed her with gentle tenderness on the cheek.
“He just left to do the main pool,” Emily answered. “He wanted to get it finished so he could go into town later this morning. Something about the Little League finals.”
“Hank and Mary’s son is playing third base for the Tigers,” Linda added. “That makes four nudists in the series-two of ours, one from Glen Eden, and one from Olive Dell.”
As she finished, there was the sound of running bare feet and nine-year-old Carole erupted through the doorway. “I’m going to the game with George,” she announced without stopping. She hurried to the breakfast table and popped into her chair in a single continuous motion.
“Did you brush your teeth?” Forrest asked his younger daughter.
She looked at him and curled her lips in disappointment. “All right,” she said slowly, and raised her slight body from the wooden chair. As she turned to go, her father gave her a playful slap on her bare buttocks for a reminder.
“Teeth and hair brushed, and hands and face thoroughly washed,” he admonished. “No breakfast until you do-ever.”
With the appearance of utter weariness that a frustrated child can summon at an instant’s notice, Carole plodded back across the room and disappeared into the living quarters of the house.
Forrest turned again to his wife. “If the lumber gets here in time, I plan to spend most of the day on the sauna. There’s a couple with three children coming for an interview about eleven. Will you handle it for me?”
“Should I dress?” Linda asked.
Forrest nodded. “I think so; they have a sixteen-year-old son and this will be their first visit. Don’t put on a sun robe. I don’t want him to break his neck trying to look around corners.”
Linda smiled at him. “I know better than that. We’ll take care of them.”
As Emily Nunn turned back toward the range where she was preparing breakfast, her attention was caught by her son George, whom she saw emerging from the grove of trees that screened the pool area. When he started to run across the grass toward the house, she knew instantly that something was wrong. It did not need to be anything serious, but she looked quickly at her husband and silently flashed him a message.
Forrest Nunn read it correctly but did not allow himself to be unduly disturbed. George was twenty-four, but there was still a good deal of boy in him yet, and a clogged filter in the pool was about the worst to be expected.
When George came in through the outside doorway, Forrest looked at him and immediately changed his opinion. His son’s face had a mature set, with unusual tightness at the corners of his mouth. Something as minor as a mechanical problem would not cause him to look like that.
The young man crossed the room and spoke softly to his father. “Dad, can I see you for a moment?” There was urgency in his voice.
Forrest nodded and followed his son into the outside sunlight. As soon as the door had closed behind them, George turned. “Dad, there was a dead man, nude, floating in the main pool. I just pulled him out.”
“Who is it?” Forrest asked quickly.
“I don’t know him. Man of about fifty or so, floating face down. I got him out and thought of artificial respiration, but he was gone-cold as ice.”
“Go back and try to revive him anyway. You know what to do. Keep at it-he may still be alive no matter how he feels. I’ll join you as soon at I call the sheriff.”
George turned and ran back toward the trees and the pool. Almost as rapidly Forrest returned to the kitchen, threw a quick “It’s all right” to his wife, and went to the telephone. He glanced at the emergency-number list posted on the wall and then dialed swiftly. When he heard the ringing on the other end of the line, he consciously relaxed so that his voice would be normal when he spoke. “This is Forrest Nunn at Sun Valley Lodge. My son has just discovered a nude body floating in our main pool.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” the voice on the line commented.
“I didn’t make myself clear; this isn’t one of our people. I haven’t seen him yet, but according to my son he is a stranger. He’s being given artificial respiration, but George is sure that he’s dead.”
The voice at the other end became crisper. “Keep up the respiration until we get there. Mouth-to-mouth, if possible. Try not to disturb the area any more than is necessary. We’ll come as soon as we can.”
The line went dead.
Forrest returned at once to the kitchen to face his wide-eyed, worried wife and their two daughters. “Carole,” he directed, “I want you to go to your room and stay there until I call you. You’re a good girl and you aren’t being punished. Run!”
Carole looked very disappointed but nevertheless obeyed immediately.
When she was safely beyond hearing, Forrest said calmly, “George has found a man, a stranger, floating in our pool. He thinks the man is dead, but he’s applying artificial respiration anyway. I’ve sent for the sheriff’s rescue squad. Please stay away from the pool area and see that no one else goes there. Linda, dress and put the chain up on the gate. Don’t let anybody in, not even our members, until the sheriff’s squad arrives; then take your orders from whoever is in charge.”
“How about the new couple?” Linda asked quickly.
“If they come in the meantime, have them use the private driveway and offer them some coffee. If you have to, explain we have had something unusual occur and will be with them as soon as we can.”
Linda nodded her understanding and hurried after her sister.
“Is that all?” Emily asked.
“So far, yes. I’m going down to the pool to spell George. Handle things, will you?”
Emily nodded. “If you need me, call.”
Forrest reached for a pair of sun-bleached khaki shorts where they lay conveniently ready, picked up another pair for his son, and left. Emily watched him as he crossed the lawn with long swift strides and disappeared down the pathway through the grove that led to the pool area on the other side.
chapter 2
Along the stretch of public road that bordered the grounds of Sun Valley Lodge, there was a solid screen of shrubbery and trees unbroken except for the main entrance driveway and a smaller road some distance away for the private use of the owners. Opposite the principal gateway there was a sign, which read:
SUN VALLEY LODGE
Affiliated with the A.S.A. and W.S.A.
Visitors Welcome
(Please use gate phone)
Even though the public road was only a two-lane macadam-topped secondary highway, the thin stream of traffic it carried added up to a surprisingly large number of cars by the end of the long California summer. The road followed the foothills for some miles and then turned up toward the mountains and the high resort area, where it joined the main routes to Big Bear Lake and the winter ski sites. By taking a branch, the knowledgeable driver could end up at the El Cajon pass and cut many miles off the established through-way route from Los Angeles across the desert to Las Vegas.
Of the sum total of cars which traveled the relatively obscure cutoff route past the lodge, a few turned in. Many other drivers who glanced at the sign in passing weren’t even aware that the abbreviations represented the American Sunbathing Association and its regional subdivision, the Western Sunbathing Association.
Linda Nunn knew every part of the lodge grounds and every foot of its hiking trails; she had lived there since she was ten years old. As soon as she saw her father take off toward the sheltering trees that guarded the big pool, she hurried to her room wondering how any stranger, dead or alive, could have got to the carefully protected recreation area without having been seen from the house. Buried in the entrance driveway, there was a concealed treadle that rang a bell in both the office and the kitchen whenever a car drove in; the warning device had not rung the night before.