I put together the five bags in record time, giving myself a pat for having thought to buy lots of extras of everything. Though I altered their bags a little. I left off the sachets and doubled up on the snacks and chocolate. I added bottles of sparkling water and I was ready to go. I checked Fifi’s water and gave her a few pets before I shut the door to the crate, grabbed the packed bin and went to the door.
I went looking for Cloris and found her on my first stop. She was sitting at one of the tables in the Cora and Madeleine Delacorte Café. I pulled the bin up to the table and must have seemed a little breathless.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Sorry to interrupt your break,” I said, and then told her about what I was doing for the Silicon Valley bunch.
“No problem interrupting. I find breaks boring. I’d rather be doing something. Just tell me what you need.” She smiled at me. “And take a breath. Whatever it is, we’ll get it done.”
I hated to admit it but I was a little overwrought. I did as she suggested and took a deep breath before continuing. “I promised them drinks and snacks for the workshop this evening. I’ll bring a tin of cookies.”
“But you need drinks.”
I nodded. “I suppose you could do a setup like my group has. And I need to get these bags into their rooms.” I gestured toward the bin.
“So you need access to their rooms,” she said with a shrug. “No problem. Like I said, I’d rather be doing something.” She followed me out and picked up the master key from the clerk at the registration desk.
“I knew that Mr. St. John’s way wasn’t going to fly with that group,” she said when we were outside where no one could hear. “His mantra is no extras. I like the way you do your retreats so much better. That’s why when that woman called inquiring about the birthday weekend, I turned it over to you.”
I turned to her with surprise. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment to wonder how Aileen had found me. “Well, thank you,” I said. “Kevin St. John certainly wouldn’t like that.”
“I won’t tell,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. “It’s too bad one of them brought a dog.” She shook her head and let out a sigh. “Mr. St. John is adamant about pets, even on the grounds.”
I assured her that I’d just seen Fifi and she was in my guesthouse.
“Good, because I heard him say that if he found the dog on the premises, the guest would have to leave even if it was the middle of the night.” She leaned a little closer. “It’s almost like he wants to find the dog in the room.”
That wasn’t anything I wanted to hear, particularly since I couldn’t control what Deani was going to do. “I can’t worry about that now,” I said, checking my watch. “I want to get these bags in their rooms before their workshop lets out.”
“No problem,” she said in an efficient voice as we walked up the small hill to the Sand and Sea building. She had the list of names and room numbers and it turned out the five of them were in rooms across the hall from the birthday group. She opened each door and told me who was staying where. I tried to be quick about it, but I couldn’t help taking a quick look at the rooms. The first room belonged to Elex. His black duffle bag matched his clothes. It was open on the bed but appeared still packed. A couple of books were next to it and I glanced at the titles. Both were on mindfulness. One said something about it being an antidote for anxiety and the other promised to clear the way to better business decisions. A computer bag with some papers sticking out sat on the bed. I put the paper shopping bag and bottle of sparkling water next to the clock radio.
When I got back in the hall I looked at my watch and realized there was no time for being nosy. Cloris announced the next room belonged to Tim Moffat and I remembered he was the one with Elex when he’d made the arrangements. He stood out from the others thanks to his light hair and preppy attire. I rushed in, barely noting that his incidentals were lined up along the sink in the room. As I moved toward the table with the clock radio, my jacket caught on his open laptop sitting on the bed. I grabbed it just in time to keep it from falling and must have hit a button because the screen came on. I got a quick glance and saw a picture of a bag of something. My heart was still thudding when I got back in the hall. I didn’t want to think of the consequences if the laptop had hit the floor and broken.
A floral scent greeted me as Cloris opened the next door. A pile of clothes sat on the bed and several pairs of women’s shoes were on the floor below. No surprise the room belonged to the sole woman in the group, Julie Stanton.
“These guys are sharing,” Cloris said, opening the last door. “Their names are Jackson Gordon and Josh Williams.” They had so much stuff in the small room I felt claustrophobic. I had to step over their suitcases and computer cases to get to the table. I dropped off the bags of treats and bottles of water and left the room quickly. I assumed that since they were sharing a room they must be underlings.
Cloris said she’d drop the key off and then she had to get to the kitchen and start work on dinner. She assured me the drinks would be in the meeting room in time for the evening workshop.
When I went back to the Cypress building both meeting rooms were empty. I knew my group had free time until dinner and I remembered the other group had some sort of walk. I did a quick cleanup of our room and moved the tote bags with their work off to the side. I was glad that I’d marked them with their names before I’d given them out so there wouldn’t be any mix-ups.
The next stop was the Lodge. I told the desk clerk to expect something to be dropped off. I looked out the window at the fading afternoon and let out a sigh. I felt like I’m been rushing forever and I needed some time to reenergize. My favorite go-to was taking my knitting to the beach. The fresh salty air mixed with the rhythm of the waves and the movement of my needles always left me feeling restored. I felt in my pocket for the circular needles and ball of pink yarn. I left my tote bag at the front desk, wanting my hands to be free. More people had checked in and were hanging out in the gathering spot. I deliberately didn’t check to see if any of my group was there and went out the door on the deck side.
I took the boardwalk that went across the dunes. The area on either side was covered in tall bushes and squat plants. I was sure there were probably some deer wandering through the plantings.
The boardwalk ended at an archway that marked the end of the Vista Del Mar grounds. The street that ran between the grounds and the beach was quiet, but even so I made sure to look before I crossed. With all the curves a car could appear out of nowhere. Particularly now that fog had started to roll in.
When I got to the beach side of the street I saw that shimmering mist was coming in on long fingers that shrouded some areas in mystery and left others completely clear. I considered changing my plan, but then I knew the area so well I could find my way in the fog.
In an effort to protect the native plants growing in the sand from being trampled, the whole area along the street was fenced off and an entrance had been created that led to the expanse of beach. My feet sank into the silky white sand and I stopped when I got to the end of the entranceway. The tide was coming in and the waves were loud as they rolled in, reclaiming the beach they’d backed off of earlier. It was a little scary and thrilling to realize I was on the edge of the continent.
The fog kept shifting with clear spots and invisible areas. Even without being able to see it, I knew there was a big Danger sign on the rocky area to my right. The rocks they warned about went all the way out into the water almost like a pier, but as the tide came in more and more of it would disappear under the crashing waves.
I was surrounded by the good kind of ions and took a deep breath. I forgot about the workshop and the baking I still had to do after that. I chuckled to myself, realizing I was having my own mindful moment.
I heard some noise I couldn’t place and caught sight of something black in my peripheral vision, but before I could identify it, it had disappeared. I walked back to the street to
check but it was deserted.
The fog cleared over the rocky area as I returned to the beach. I was looking it over thinking of the tide pools that must be hidden in the crevices when I noticed something light-colored against the dark rocks. I ignored the Danger sign and climbed onto the uneven surface to get a better look.
It was still impossible to tell what it was. I knew I should let it go, but I also knew it would bug me if I didn’t check it out. I was glad that nobody could see me because I was hardly graceful as I made my way over the jagged surface. I looked again and this time got a better view. Now I could see there was another color. Red, bright red and lots of it. I upped my speed as I reached a smooth mound of rock.
As I got closer I recognized that it was a man wearing a blue shirt and he was sprawled on his back. The red was blood on his face, and shirt. I fell to my knees and leaned over him. Instinctively I reached for his neck to check for a pulse. I thought I felt something.
Just then I heard sirens in the distance. “Thank heaven help is on the way,” I said out loud, hoping the figure on the ground could hear me. The siren got louder and then abruptly stopped. A moment later people in uniforms were climbing over the rocks coming toward me.
There was a lot of shouting, though I couldn’t make out the words. When the paramedics reached us, they pushed me away and scooped him onto a stretcher and rushed back over the rocks—as much as you could rush on such a bumpy uneven slippery surface. It was only then that it registered that it was Tim Moffat. The pale blond hair and preppy outfit were the giveaway.
Two cops had come with them and they were yelling something at me. Whatever it was got carried off with the breeze. The next thing I knew one of them had grabbed my arm and was pulling me away.
I’d started to protest, but he pointed toward the water and for the first time I saw that the tide had brought the waves almost to the spot where I’d been kneeling. A few more minutes and Tim and I would have been pulled out to sea.
Chapter 8
“Do you want to explain what you were doing on the rocks hovering over the victim?” Lieutenant Borgnine said to me. He was wearing the rumpled herringbone jacket that seemed to be his uniform. The scowl seemed to be his default expression. He had a build like a bulldog and had bristly, mostly gray hair with an open spot on top.
I would have liked to say no, but clearly it wasn’t an option. At least he wasn’t rubbing his temple this time. Or at least not yet. Dealing with me seemed to bring on a headache. He was a seasoned cop and I’d had just a few weeks’ experience of working for a private investigator, and yet I’d solved a number of murders that he’d been wrong about. It really bugged him that he’d used my help on occasion. On a positive note, he was a fan of my baking. Whatever I said was going to cause trouble.
As soon as the ambulance had driven away, the cop who’d pulled me off the rocks had taken me across the street to a bench on the boardwalk. Instead of taking a statement from me, he’d made me wait for the lieutenant’s arrival.
I’d offered the officer a thank-you for getting me away from the incoming tide. I knew that he knew who I was because it was a small town and because of my relationship with Dane, but he stayed in official police mode, calling me ma’am and saying he was just doing his duty.
“It’s not how it looked,” I said to Lieutenant Borgnine. “I went to the beach for a little solo knitting time and I saw something on the rocks and went to investigate.” His scowl deepened at the last word and I wished I had chosen a different one. Why poke the bear?
“Investigate?” he bellowed. “I thought we were in agreement about that.” If there was an agreement it was on his side only. He wanted me to stay out of his business because, well, I had solved a number of crimes. I think it bugged him that I’d worked for a PI, too. Frank was always telling me that cops didn’t like private investigators.
“Poor choice of a word,” I said, hoping I could diffuse things. “When I realized it was a person I went to see if I could help.”
“Then you know the victim?” he asked.
“It depends on your definition of know,” I said.
“Don’t be cute,” he said with a groan.
“I know his name is Tim and he’s from Silicon Valley.”
Before I could say more, Kevin St. John and Sky had joined us. The manager seemed beside himself and Sky froze when he saw me. I tried to send him a signal that I hadn’t said anything about my arrangement with the group. I wasn’t good at this signal thing and it came across as me making a bad attempt at flirting.
“I just heard there was an accident,” the manager said. He looked at me and the blood on my hands. “What did you do, Ms. Feldstein?” he demanded.
“Nothing. I got there after he fell. But that’s just conjecture. I’m assuming he fell. It’s not like I saw him fall. When I got there he was lying on his back.”
“Who was lying on his back?” Kevin St. John demanded.
“She said his name is Tim and he’s from Silicon Valley,” Lieutenant Borgnine said, referring to me.
The manager turned to Sky. “He must have been on the mindful walk. What did you tell them?”
Sky put up his hands defensively. “I didn’t tell them anything. I read them what you wrote about how to make the walk a mindful experience. They were supposed to go by themselves and experience the moment.”
“You should have told them not to walk on the rocks,” Kevin St. John said angrily. “Somebody has to go to the hospital.” He gave Sky a dubious look. “I better go. You stay here and take care of the rest of them.” The manager rushed off with Sky following behind him.
“What’s going on with them? Isn’t the barefoot guy the one who opened that yoga store?” Lieutenant Borgnine asked.
“I think it’s called a yoga studio,” I said.
“I knew that,” Lieutenant Borgnine said. I gave him the rundown on the retreat that Kevin St. John had set up.
“Mindful?” he said, glancing in the direction that Kevin St. John had gone. “I get it, and he has the yoga guy working it.”
He looked at my hands and clothes with a disparaging shake of his head. “How did you end up like that again?”
I explained leaning over him while I checked for a pulse.
“So there wasn’t an altercation between the two of you?” He looked me in the eye.
“No. I told you I saw him lying there and went to—” This time I stopped myself.
“So did you find a pulse?” he asked.
“I think so. But it was weak. And that’s all I know,” I said, trying to end it. I was absolutely not going to tell the lieutenant anything about enhancing the retreat.
Just then two uniforms arrived to take the place of the earlier cops. One of them was Dane. I saw him swallow hard when he saw the blood on my hands.
“Are you sure that’s all you know? I could certainly arrest you. You were hanging over the victim and you say you were looking for a pulse, but someone else might think you’d been fighting with him.” I think he enjoyed the look of panic that came across my face.
“Really? You’re not serious.”
“I said I could, not that I was going to. It was just an encouragement for you to tell me everything.” He shrugged, and I tried to hide a guilty look knowing that I’d left out my relationship with the group. “As much as I’d like you out of the way, I don’t think you are responsible for what happened. Most likely it was an accident. Another fool ignoring the signs so he could prove how daring he was.” He gestured to Dane. “Will you help her out of here.” He leaned closer to Dane and said something I didn’t hear.
“I can manage myself,” I said, standing up. The lieutenant looked me in the eye as Dane moved in closer.
“I’m sure you can. I know you want us all to think you’re supergir— uh, woman, but with all this, this . . .” He gestured toward me and I realized there was blood spattered on my clothes too. “Well, you might be more shook up than you realize.” Dane took my arm as I too
k a step. Much as I hated to admit it, Lieutenant B. was right, sort of anyway. I did feel a little like I’d gotten a punch in the gut. As we started to walk away, he called out after me, “I’ll be wanting to talk to you again, so don’t leave town or anything.” It was impossible for me not to roll my eyes at his comment. Was that his idea of a joke?
Despite experiencing a slightly wobbly feeling as soon as we were out of Lieutenant B.’s line of sight, I tried to pull away. “I can take it from here,” I said, trying to get my arm loose of his, but Dane held on fast. It was not my style to be leaning on someone.
“My orders are to take you home,” Dane said in his cop tone. Then he leaned in. “It’s no shame to accept some help from time to time.”
“I would if I needed it,” I countered. “But I’m fine. Just fine.” I couldn’t see his face, but I sensed he was shaking his head with consternation. Dane certainly knew a thing or two about taking care of needy people. His mother was an alcoholic and as kid he’d had to take care of her and his sister, Chloe. Actually, he still did. Every time his mother relapsed he had to step in. His sister was on her own for the moment but who knew how long that would last.
Before I could suggest another way, Dane led me up the steps to the Lodge and said we’d cut through it. We got a lot of strange looks. I could see why. The way Dane was holding my arm and steering me, it wasn’t clear if he was marching me through as a suspect or helping me.
“This was Lieutenant Borgnine’s idea, wasn’t it,” I said, twisting my head back to face him. His lips curved into an impish grin.
“Yes,” he said with an air of resignation. “Sorry, but it was this or I’d have to work the graveyard shift on Christmas.”
Just then we approached the man I’d met that morning when Kevin St. John’d had the flurry of early check-ins. His name reminded me of peanut butter and then it came to me—it was Reese, like the peanut butter cups. He eyed me with concern and I remembered the mess on my hands and clothes and rushed to explain.
Knot on Your Life Page 6
