By the time I reached the ferry, the rage had simmered down. Now I was just hurt. And sad. What would she do without me? I straightened my slouched shoulders. She’s a grown woman with her own life. It’s not my responsibility to buy her Twinkies and wash her dishes. And it was time for me to have my own life, too. Still, I knew the guilt would come, fast and thick … it always did.
FIVE
An hour before class was to start I sat in lotus pose hoping to calm the monkey mind that had kept me up until three this morning. I should’ve gotten the best sleep of my life considering I’d been lying on the most comfortable mattress ever made. In fact, everything in the suite – from the solid gold bath fixtures to the custom furniture – was the best money could buy.
Priscilla Moon, billionaire heiress and dog lover extraordinaire, had spared no expense redecorating and revamping when she bought this island nearly fifty years ago. The story was, while vacationing with her three Yorkshire terriers, she’d been told she couldn’t bring them into establishments. So, she simply bought the island and fired everyone, creating a dog-friendly slice of paradise and turning this once posh human-only hotel into the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort.
Paintings of her Yorkies still hang in the lobby today, even though she passed on quite a few years ago. They’re a part of the island’s history and folklore. I’ve even heard some of the staff talking about Priscilla and her dogs haunting the Pampered Pup, but I’ve never personally seen them.
I rolled my shoulders. My back felt fantastic but the argument with Mom intruded and made me tense once again. Was she right? Was I judging her? The only thing I’d ever fought with her about before this was keeping Buddha. She had begrudgingly given in then. But, this was different. Let it go.
I took a deep breath and tried to follow the air slowly back out of my lungs, but my attention went immediately back to Mom. Oh god. Was I being judgmental? I was. Guilt kicked the door open with one giant foot and it slammed me in the face. My eyes opened in defeat. I had no right to judge the way she lived her life. My stomach rolled and clenched. A growl of frustration escaped my lips. I didn’t have to be there to watch her self-destruct though. I can help her without doing that. I’ll just mail her some money every month. I shook my head. This wasn’t working.
Untangling my legs, I pushed myself up, giving my back a long stretch on the way. Buddha silently watched me from his own version of a meditative position: sprawled out with his back legs stretched out behind him and his jowls melting on the floor.
‘We need to bring some calming energy into this space, Buddha.’
My deceased dog Angel’s visits had really brought home the idea of everything being about energy for me. Energy is neither created nor destroyed, just changed. Got it. No science books needed. Though, how it worked was still beyond my comprehension. I grabbed my keys and unlocked the large closet where I kept supplies: extra mats, rolling balls, straps. And in a separate smaller closet were my incense, candles, CDs and various other tools of relaxation. Grabbing my sage smudge stick and a lighter, I proceeded to perform a cleansing ceremony of the studio. Making sure I moved to each corner, I reverently moved the negative energy out of the room with the smoldering bundle. Watching the smoke curl up into the space, expand and then dissipate was a meditation in itself. When that was done, I turned down the lights, lit all the candles around the room and popped in my favorite Sounds of the Rainforest CD.
By the time the first clients came through the door, I was seated once again on my mat with a smile and a calm sense of well-being. ‘Good morning,’ I greeted the ladies easily as they filed through the French doors.
That feeling didn’t last long, however, as little Shakespeare the shih-tzu took advantage of Beth Anne turning away to roll out her mat, and began to assert his dominance over Ghost, the passive Weimaraner.
‘Shakespeare!’ Beth Anne gasped, jumping up to stop the little white and gray dog’s vigorous pumping on Ghost’s rear end. ‘Good Lord in heaven, Sweet pea. Stop that!’
Poor Ghost lay there frozen. The whites of his eyes showing in a way that made him seem both startled and comically horrified. His owner, Violet, had her hands on her hips, shaking her head of fiery-red hair as Beth Anne finally separated the dogs.
Beth Anne’s cheeks had pinked and she was breathless. ‘Sorry, Violet. He’s been extra ornery this morning.’
Violet waved a hand, sending her bracelets clinking together, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. ‘So was Fredrick. Must be somethin’ in the air.’
‘Fredrick? Is he your new flavor of the month?’ Whitley smirked, casually leaning back on her hands.
Violet shrugged and began to run her hands down Ghost’s smooth, gray fur to soothe him. ‘I’m not sure he’s going to last that long. He’s got a very annoying habit of whistling through his nose when he sleeps.’
Whitley rolled her eyes. ‘With as many men as you’ve gone through, Violet, I’m surprised you haven’t learned by now that all men do something annoying in their sleep.’
‘Well,’ Violet smirked back, ‘I don’t usually let them sleep.’
‘Y’all, maybe it’s the candles and the romantic lighting in here.’ Beth Anne grinned at me as she made Shakespeare lay down on the mat in front of her. She also began to run her hands along the length of his small body in a soothing manner. He barked and tried to get up. ‘No. Stay.’
I waited a few minutes and then rang a bell to get everyone’s attention. I didn’t know exactly how fast news traveled in their circles, but I figured we should say a few words about Celeste since this had been the class she attended for the past two months. When the chatter quieted down, I cleared my throat.
‘Everyone, if I could have your attention, those of you who were present for yesterday morning’s class know what happened. For the few of you who weren’t here, I regret to inform you that Celeste Green was found in the mudbath room here yesterday afternoon. She’s … well, she’s deceased.’
I waited for the buzz of questions, including how it happened, to die down. ‘I know it’s shocking. I don’t really know any more than that. As for how she died, that’ll have to be determined by the ME’s office. But, I thought we could start class with a moment of silence to remember her and wish her peace wherever she is.’ Everyone nodded in agreement. ‘So, let’s close our eyes.’
The rest of the class went smoothly. It was unusually quiet as everyone worked through their own thoughts and feelings about Celeste’s death. Or maybe they were thinking about their next shopping spree, who knew. I chose to think they were affected by the woman’s death so she wouldn’t be forgotten. Maybe I should make something for the studio in remembrance of her? I got a sudden image of Zebina setting whatever I made on fire. Speaking of Zebina … I glanced around the room. She wasn’t here today. I guess I shouldn’t have expected her to be. Surely Celeste’s ex-husband was notified about her death and so Zebina would know. I wondered how she was taking it. Was she glad her arch nemesis was gone? Or did she feel guilty that she treated her so badly? Or maybe … she had a hand in Celeste’s death. I thought about the smashed bottle of Botox in my glove box.
‘OK, everyone, let’s do one more happy baby before we end with savasana.’ I walked around the room as the ladies lay back with their legs in the air and grabbed their big toes. ‘That’s it. Rock back and forth if you like, massaging your spine.’ I liked to be ready to help if a dog decides not to cooperate while their owners are in this vulnerable pose. All but two dogs were resting quietly at the ladies’ feet. I let the mini dachshund and young poodle play. They didn’t seem to be disturbing anyone. It had been a learning curve for us all, having the dogs in class. Especially me being new to teaching. But, I had to say, it was working out better than I could have hoped. For the first time in my life I felt like I was doing something worthwhile … and enjoying the heck out of it.
After class was over I brought out a box of dog toys and dumped them in the middle of the floor so the dogs could h
ave playtime. Some of the women gathered around me while their dogs were occupied to hear more about Celeste’s death.
‘I really don’t know any more, sorry,’ I said. I wasn’t about to tell them she had come from an appointment with Ira. I’m sure that information would get out soon enough.
‘Maybe she finally pushed Zebina over the edge,’ Violet offered as she grinned mischievously. ‘I’ve dated three Greeks and they all had fiery tempers. Especially when you’re dating them all at the same time.’
That got a few chuckles.
‘Did the police think it was natural causes?’ Beth Anne asked, holding the end of a stuffed flamingo in a game of tug of war with Shakespeare. ‘Or maybe someone did kill her.’
‘Killed her? Good grief, Beth Anne.’ Violet shook her head. ‘I was only joking about Zebina. You need to lay off those murder mystery novels.’
‘They didn’t say anything about murder.’ Nope, that would’ve been me. I cringed inside. ‘I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, we’ll have to wait and see what the ME says.’
‘Was there blood?’ Beth Anne asked, undeterred. She was normally a quiet, southern introvert. But, her dream was to write murder mysteries, so I could see the intrigue and possibility making her eyes shine.
‘No!’ I held up my hands. ‘Look, ladies, you’re asking the wrong person. I’ve told you all I know.’ I reached down and accepted the tennis ball being pushed into my calf by an eager pug, grateful for the distraction. I tossed the ball and straightened back up.
‘Well, I bet if she was murdered, that private investigator she hired to follow her husband around would know something about who’d want her dead,’ Whitley added. ‘Besides Zebina that is.’
Violet shifted her yoga bag on her shoulder, nodding. ‘Yep. He probably knows everything about her. Except the fact she’s dead.’
A private investigator? They were right. He’d be a great place to start to find out who would want to harm Celeste. Maybe he could even help figure out who killed her … if in fact it was murder. Or maybe I was worrying for nothing and the ME would find out she just had a heart attack or something else less nefarious than murder. But just in case, I decided to pay this PI a visit and see what he knew.
I hurried through my chores at the spa – which included performing capture and release on a spider for Novia, a young maid with a serious case of arachnophobia – so I could try to find the PI before my afternoon class started at four o’clock. Violet couldn’t remember his name but said he was the only PI on Moon Key.
After a quick stop to grab a veggie wrap and some fruit for lunch at De Luca Deli, Buddha and I headed out to find him. Didn’t turn out to be too hard. There’s only one main road that runs around the island, Moon Key Avenue, and only two office complexes on the island. His office turned out to be located in the first one, next to the fire station.
I parked my Beetle between a black Jeep and a white Range Rover, downed the last bite of my wrap with a swig of water and grabbed a banana. I peeled the banana and broke off a piece for Buddha. ‘Here ya go.’ They were his favorite treat and he swallowed it in one gulp. ‘Let’s try chewing next time, huh, big guy?’ He licked his chops and eyed the rest of my banana with determination. ‘Nope, the rest is mine. All right, let’s go see what we can find out about Celeste.’
The office door had been painted a bright lemon yellow and sported a shiny, brass handle. All that brightness and shininess, however, hid a stubborn streak. It seemed to be stuck. I shoved Buddha’s leash between my knees and the half-eaten banana in my mouth, so I could use two hands to grab the handle and push.
Unfortunately, as I pushed, someone on the other side of the door pulled, the door flew away and I was suddenly staring up at a man. A really, really attractive man with the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. Time seemed to stand still as we stared at each other from mere inches away. And then I watched in fascination as one corner of his incredibly sexy mouth turned up, producing a dimple.
‘Just got the door painted. Sometimes it sticks.’ His eyes traveled to my lips and his smirk grew wider.
Then, it hit me. In horror, I realized I still had the banana shoved in my mouth. Slowly, painfully, I reached up and removed it, feeling the heat begin to crawl up my neck and cheeks.
‘Sorry, I … um …’ Luckily, at that moment, a large brown dog with white paws and a tail like a whip appeared at our feet. He greeted me and Buddha with a hearty sniffing expedition. Smiling, I scratched under his chin, being careful to keep the banana out of both dogs’ reaches. ‘Hey there, cutie.’ I motioned to my own dog. ‘Oh, um, this is Buddha. Is it all right if I bring him in with me?’
The man was still clutching the top of the door with one hand, his other hand planted on his jeans-clad hip. ‘Sure, Petey’s dog-friendly as you can see. And you are?’
‘Yes, I’m dog-friendly. Oh, right.’ Mentally smacking myself, I switched the banana to my left hand and held out my right. ‘Elle Pressley.’
He slid his hand into mine. The warmth and solidness of his grip brought the heat back to my face.
‘Devon Burke. Nice to meet you. Come on in.’
I followed him deeper into the office, scolding myself for the way my body was reacting to him. Get a grip, Elle. You’ve seen an attractive man before. But, I couldn’t turn it off. There was something primal about the way this man made me feel … alert and drowsy at the same time, aware of my own body and the fact I hadn’t bothered to even glance in a mirror before coming. I was suddenly so self-conscious; I almost turned and bolted for the door. Instead I gave in, dumped the banana in a trash can by his desk, admired the smattering of framed photographs on his walls and sat down awkwardly in one of the two white wicker chairs positioned in front of the desk. I began to compulsively twirl a stray wave of hair on my neck. He leaned down to give Buddha a good scratch before he took a seat at his desk, folded his hands in front of him and then stared expectantly at me.
‘What can I do for you, Elle?’
You can say my name again. What was that accent? Irish or Scottish? I cleared my throat and forced myself to sound calm. ‘I was told Celeste Green was a client of yours?’ I ran my hands over my green Lycra yoga pants, wishing he would stop staring at me so intensely. Was he judging me? I’m sure everyone else who entered his office did so in something that didn’t come off the Walmart sales rack. Dressing could be considered a sport on Moon Key.
His mouth was set in a grim line, but his eyes were soft and kind. ‘I can’t talk about my clients, I’m sorry.’
If he were judging me, at least he wasn’t treating me with contempt. I returned his kind gaze. ‘Even if they’re deceased?’
Though his body remained still, his eyes flashed with surprise. Then he shook his head as if clearing his ears. ‘Celeste Green is dead?’
I nodded. I had the feeling this man didn’t get caught off guard too often. ‘I work at the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort where her body was found yesterday.’
Devon Burke leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve been off the island on business. What happened? Was it a heart attack?’
I tried to keep my attention on his face, but I now had a perfect view of the black dress shirt pulled taut over his muscular chest and arms. I’m sure the concentration it took not to stare made me look constipated. ‘I don’t know.’ My voice cracked. ‘She was found face down in our mudbath room.’ I knew I had to be up front with him if I was going to get him to help me. ‘Here’s the problem. She’d just come from a Botox appointment minutes before her death, with Dr Ira Craft. You know of him?’
‘Dr Craft? Yeah, sure. I also know Celeste was planning on suing him for a thigh lift she felt made her look worse than before. Why would she go back to the bleedin’ man for another procedure?’
I shrugged. ‘That’s one of the questions. The other question I was hoping you could answer … is there anyone you became aware of during your investigation who might want to harm Celeste?’ I didn’t want to put Zebina’s name in
his mouth.
He leaned forward once again on the desk and his eyes met mine. ‘Do you think she was … harmed on purpose?’
I crossed my arms. My foot wiggled nervously. ‘I don’t know. But, Ira Craft is a friend of mine and the police told him not to leave town. So, I promised his wife, Hope, who’s my best friend, I’d help get to the bottom of Celeste’s death to clear Ira.’ Pinky promised. But I wasn’t about to explain to this beautiful specimen of man the significance of a pinky promise.
Devon blew out a breath and ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair. ‘Well, she was fond of suing people, so I’m sure there’s a long list of folks who wouldn’t shed a tear at her death. And I’m sure her ex-husband and his mistress won’t be too distraught, either. But, to actually commit murder. That’s a whole different ball game.’
‘Exactly. He’s not someone who would cross that line, even if angered. That’s why, even if she was suing Ira, he shouldn’t be a suspect. Unless …’
‘Unless what?’
I fought to keep the tears at bay, but I knew my eyes were glistening with them. I didn’t dare blink for fear of sending them cascading down my face. ‘Unless Botox is what killed her.’ In my heart I knew Ira wasn’t responsible for her death, but if Botox did kill her, Ira would be the only rational suspect.
Devon stared at me. I could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he seemed to come to some conclusion as his expression softened. ‘So what do you need from me?’
My mind flashed on what it’d be like to slip into his arms. Stop. It. I forced the thought away. ‘If it turns out Celeste didn’t die from natural causes or some freak accident … which seems likely considering their warning to Ira not to leave town, I’d like to hire you to help me find out the truth.’ I mentally smacked myself as I questioned my motives on this, considering my savings account now needed to be spent on deposits and rent for a new place. I had been hoping by staying with my mother and taking care of her, I’d be able to save enough to buy my own place. That wasn’t happening now. Complete hormone-induced lunacy.
Faux Pas Page 4
