Eat, Prey, Love

by Laura Durham

  “A pleasure to meet you both.” Carol Ann staggered forward, sagging against Daniel who put an arm around her waist to catch her. “I’m in charge of this trip.”

  I noticed a look of recognition pass across Mike’s face. “You’re from Atlanta?”

  Carol Ann giggled. “Have you been reading up on me?”

  Mike didn’t answer her, but I knew he’d probably researched all the names I’d mentioned during my phone calls.

  “Why don’t you and I go sit down?” Kate tried to pull Carol Ann away from Daniel, giving Fern a beseeching look to help her. She might flirt outrageously with men, but she didn’t appreciate it when other women did the same.

  Fern grabbed Carol Ann’s other arm, and he and Kate steered the woman to a nearby couch while she craned her neck behind her, batting her eyelashes at Daniel.

  “Fern might have given her half a Valium to calm her down,” I said. “She isn’t usually so . . .” I paused to find the right word. “Uninhibited.”

  “Any specific reason why a hairdresser is administering prescription meds?” Mike asked.

  “Carol Ann was a bit hysterical earlier,” I said, wondering how to bring up the reason she’d been so upset without sending Mike into full cop mode. “And it was only half a pill.”

  “Can you blame her?” Richard touched a hand to his hair, which had remaining remarkably in place despite the dousing. “If you hadn’t stopped her from drinking, she might be victim number four.”

  I glared at Richard as Mike’s mouth fell open.

  Richard looked from me to Mike and back to me. “Oops.” He backed away. “I should leave you two to catch up.”

  Mike took a deep breath. “Maybe now would be a good time to catch me up on what’s been happening while I’ve been in the air.”

  I led both brothers to the beige sofa across from Fern, Kate, and Carol Ann. Close enough to keep an eye on them, but out of earshot. “So how long did it take you to get here anyway?”

  “Over twenty hours,” Daniel said, readjusting a brightly colored batik pillow behind his back.

  I thought back “So you must have left . . .”

  “After I got your message about the photographer. That’s when I realized you were still poking around and might become a suspect, or worse, a victim. You have a bad habit of implicating yourself in crimes without even trying. I’ve heard enough about foreign prisons to know I don’t want you ending up in one.”

  “I’ll have you know I was never even a suspect.” I felt a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. The detective was right. I’d had the misfortune of landing on the suspect list for a few criminal investigations. I wasn’t thrilled he’d felt the need to fly halfway around the world to save me from myself, but I did feel relieved to have him sitting next to me holding my hand.

  “But you were almost a victim,” he reminded me.

  “How did you know. . .?” I began before I answered my own question with the obvious. “Richard.”

  “He’s just as concerned about you as I am. And he knows that you can’t help your compulsion to solve every problem you encounter, even when it isn’t your problem.”

  “How did he reach you when you were in the air?” I asked.

  “We had a quick layover in Taipei,” Daniel said. “Just enough time to check messages and get on the next plane.”

  Mike nodded. “I heard all my messages. I just didn’t have time to call anyone back.” He squeezed my hand. “In-flight calls are crazy expensive, and I blew everything on the flight over here.”

  I felt my face flush. “It must have cost you both a fortune to get last-minute tickets to Bali.”

  Daniel leaned back and cast a glance toward the beach. “There are worse places to end up.”

  “But we all leave tomorrow,” I said. “I hate to think you flew all this way for nothing.”

  Mike sat forward and a dark curl fell over his forehead. “We didn’t fly here for nothing, Annabelle. We came here because we have pertinent information about this case.”

  I stared at him. “How can you have information about a murder investigation in Bali? I know you’re good, but I don’t think you’re that good.”

  He smiled at me. “I had Daniel booking our tickets while I was talking to the Atlanta PD. I had a feeling that photographer didn’t have a random accident.”

  I looked around us to see if anyone could overhear, but everyone had gathered near the side stage, preoccupied by watching the purification ritual. “I thought it was a pretty big coincidence, but that would mean that Carol Ann had something to do with his death. She’s the only one who knew him, or knew he was supposed to come on this trip.”

  Mike looked at Carol Ann, who sat across from us, her legs splayed and her head lolled back against the cushions. “She couldn’t have been the only one. She’s not blonde.”

  “What does being blonde have to do with it?” I asked.

  “Because witnesses in Atlanta saw the photographer drinking with a young blond woman for hours before he drove off in his car and into a telephone pole.”

  “Grace did say he was known for being a ladies’ man. Are you telling me a woman got him drunk before he got in his car? That seems more like bad judgment than murder.”

  Mike shook his head. “There was very little alcohol in his system. There was, however, a toxin.”

  “What kind of toxin?” I asked, holding my breath in anticipation of the answer.

  “Ethylene glycol,” Mike said, his face somber. “Or what you know as antifreeze.”

  Chapter 31

  “You’re telling me he was poisoned with antifreeze just like Veronica and Dina?” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I could hear the rising panic make my voice sound shrill.

  “It wasn’t enough to kill him,” Mike said. “But police suspect it made him disoriented enough to run off the road.”

  I sank back onto the sofa, letting the information settle in my brain. Three people had been dosed with antifreeze and all three were connected to the Inspire scandal. I let my eyes close for a minute, and I breathed in and out a few times to slow my thoughts, which were muddled and chaotic. In the background, I heard the chanting of the high priestess layered over the lapping of the nearby waves as they reached the shore.

  “Annabelle? Are you okay?” Mike’s voice broke through my deep breathing.

  I opened my eyes. “I’m okay. I was thinking.” I let my eyes drift over the crowd, seeing Chatty Cathy standing with Seth and Topher next to the bar while Kristina stood a few feet away with Brett, wringing water from her hair. The priestess appeared to be wrapping up her ritual, and everyone seemed to be damp to some extent. Some, like me, had been in the front row and were thoroughly soaked, but others had stayed in the back and gotten a sprinkle. I searched the crowd but didn’t see the women I was looking for. “There are two blondes here who are from Atlanta.”

  Daniel sat up. “And is one of them connected to the victims?”

  “Actually, no.” I bit the edge of my lower lip. “At least not that I’m aware of. Both of them are pretty young and had never met anyone on the trip until we arrived.”

  Mike exchanged a look with his brother. “So we’ve got opportunity, but no motive.”

  “Where are these two now?” Daniel asked.

  I ran my eyes over the lawn. “There they are.” I indicated Carol Ann’s two assistants with my head. They sat with Cliff and Ted on a long sofa flanked by two matching chairs. Both women looked like they’d gotten the gentle misting version of the purification ritual. “Dahlia is the one with lighter hair, and Kelly has the pixie cut. Did the witnesses in Atlanta describe the woman?”

  Mike frowned. “The only descriptor I got was blond. I was lucky to get that much since I had no connection to the case.”

  Daniel watched the women. “They are young. Are they even out of college?”

  “At least one is,” I said.

  “Who are we talking about?” Fern called to me, leaning over so far he had to
catch himself with one hand before he tumbled onto the grass. “Dahlia and Kelly?”

  Carol Ann jerked up as if she’d been jolted out of a deep sleep. “My girls? Where are my girls?”

  Fern patted her hand. “You just relax, sweetie. Everything’s fine. Your girls are enjoying the party.”

  Carol Ann gave him a vacant smile through barely opened eyes. “It had to be an accident, you know. Neither of my girls would ever try to kill me.”

  Fern looked at me, a startled expression on his face, then turned back to the doped-up Southern belle. “What do you mean? You think one of your assistants had something to do with the attempt on your life.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “Never. They both know I would take their secrets to the grave.”

  I walked over and took a seat next to Carol Ann, pushing Kate out of the way. “What secrets would you take to the grave?”

  Carol Ann swung her head over to look at me and frowned. “You want to get people in trouble.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said, trying to make my voice sound as soft and sweet as I could, although I could never match the syrupy sweetness of her Southern drawl. “I want to help keep people safe. Don’t you want that, too?”

  Carol Ann closed her eyes for a moment, and then they flew open. “You’re trying to trick me, aren’t you?” She wagged a finger at me. “It won’t work. I thought about telling you. I really did.” Her eyes looked pleading. “But I can’t, and none of your tricks will get it out of me.”

  Daniel nudged me over and took my place next to Carol Ann, clasping her hand in his. “Would I try to trick you?”

  She focused on his face and her face melted into a nauseating smile. “Never.”

  Daniel returned her smile. “You’ll tell me your secrets won’t you, honey?”

  “Please tell me I don’t look like that when I smile,” Mike muttered.

  “You promise me you won’t tell a soul, sugar?” Carol Ann ran a finger down the side of Daniel’s face. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

  “Who didn’t mean it?” Daniel asked.

  “At first I didn’t think it could be true.” Carol Ann shook her head as if trying to dislodge a thought. “I tried to pretend it was random—that the two murders couldn’t be connected. I even thought Jeremy’s murder could have been by someone else. So many people despised him, you see. But when you mentioned the names being added to the guest list, and that Insider Weddings hadn’t added them, I knew. But I didn’t want it to be true.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Daniel said, his voice soothing. I wondered how many times during his career as a police officer he’d had to talk people off the ledge.

  “But then she tried to kill me.” Carol Ann’s face crumpled. “Little ole’ me. After everything I’d done. I still can’t believe it. She must know I’m one of the last people who knows the truth. And knows who she is.”

  I felt like shaking Carol Ann to get her to say the girl’s name, but I restrained myself. I noticed Mike jiggling his knee next to me and realized he felt as impatient as I did.

  Daniel put a muscular arm around Carol Ann. “Tell me who it is, hon, and I’ll keep you safe.”

  Carol Ann’s pupils widened. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing? You know, I’ve tried to be like a mother to her since Marilyn died. Her mother and I weren’t close, but I always felt awful I didn’t help her more when her life fell apart. I’ve tried to make it up to her daughter.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been amazing,” Daniel said.

  “You’re a doll to say so.” Carol Ann puckered her lips before she collapsed against Daniel’s chest.

  Kate gasped. “Is she dead?”

  Daniel put a finger under her nose, and shook his head. “Just passed out.”

  “She didn’t give us a name,” Mike said.

  “But we know it’s one of two people,” Kate said. “Why don’t we do eeny-meeny-miney-mo?”

  Fern shrugged. “We have a fifty-fifty shot of guessing the right blonde.”

  “Those are bad odds if you’re the innocent one,” Daniel said, as he extracted his arm from around Carol Ann.

  Fern tapped his chin. “Well, it’s either the one with the pixie cut or the one who dyes her hair.”

  “Dahlia dyes her hair” I asked.

  Fern rolled his eyes at me. “The one with long hair definitely goes blonder than she is in real life. From her roots, I’d guess her real shade is more of a sandy blond.”

  A recent memory bubbled to the surface of my mind. “Marilyn had sandy blond hair. I saw a picture of her.” I turned to Kate. “And do you remember when we first got here and Carol Ann told us how she’d been like a mother to one of her assistants?”

  Kate nodded. “It was Dahlia.”

  “Exactly,” I said, thinking back to the tidbits of information we’d heard throughout the trip. “Dahlia had just graduated from college when she started working for Carol Ann which means she would have been a teenager when her mother died.”

  Fern shuddered. “Are you telling me a teenaged girl planned all these murders to get revenge for her mother?”

  “Let’s ask her.” I turned to where Dahlia had been sitting, but her space was empty. Only Cliff and Ted sat chatting with Kelly.

  Kate grabbed my hand. “She’s gone.”

  Chapter 32

  Fern swiveled his head to search the crowd. “Do you think she heard us?”

  I stood up to get a better look. “She may have seen us talking to Carol Ann and figured it wouldn’t end well for her.”

  “She can’t go far,” Reese said. “We are on an island, after all.”

  “But it’s a pretty big island,” I reminded him.

  Alan walked up, brushing droplets of water from his short beard. He stopped when he saw the Reese brothers. “What do we have here?”

  “This is my . . .” I paused for a moment not knowing exactly how I should describe my relationship with Mike.

  “Boyfriend,” Kate supplied for me. “And he’s a cop from DC who’s here to help us catch the killer.”

  Alan nudged me. “G’donya, mate.”

  Mike eyed Alan briefly before turning away to look for Dahlia. At least he and Richard would have one more thing in common—their jealousy of my new Australian friend.

  “Have you seen Dahlia?” I asked Alan.

  “Dahlia?” He turned to sweep the space with his eyes. “I saw her rush across the lawn a few minutes ago. I figured it was a party-planner emergency.”

  Fern pointed toward the ocean. “Isn’t that her running along the beach?”

  I followed his finger and saw that the assistant had shed her sarong and was running in white capri pants and a loose white blouse toward the main building of the resort.

  I pulled off my sarong, turning back to Mike. “You and Daniel run around the front in case she tries to escape by the main entrance and we’ll chase her to you.” I waved to Kate and Fern to follow me. “Come on, you two.”

  Fern stood up and began hopping toward me, flailing his arms like he was in a three-legged race. “This fabric has no give. Go on without me.”

  I pulled at the sarong, unwinding it from his waist to reveal a pair of white gym shorts that left little to the imagination.

  “What?” he said as Kate stared at his short shorts. “You know I don’t own much white. It makes me look like a house.”

  “You look fine,” I said, knowing full well I couldn’t fit into his tiny shorts even if I used a shoehorn. “Now, come on.”

  The three of us dashed across the lawn and onto the hard-packed sand of the beach. I slipped off my sandals and felt the coarseness under my toes as I ran parallel to the water.

  “She’s cutting through the hotel,” Kate called to me, hitching up her white minidress so she could go faster and, no doubt, so she could flash more thigh. If anyone could pick up a guy while chasing a suspect, it would be Kate.

  We followed Dahlia around the pool, dodging waiters carrying trays of coc
ktails and swimmers wrapped up in towels. When we reached the glass wall panels leading into the lobby, we stopped short.

  Fern bent over and put his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily. “Where did she go?”

  I swept my gaze down the long wall of glass. All the panels were closed, but I could see a flash of blond hair as Dahlia hurried through the lobby. How had she gotten inside?

  “Over here.” Kate pointed to a tall knobless door to the far right of the glass wall. She pushed hard, and the door swung in, revealing a closet that connected to the lobby.

  Fern pushed me into the closet and squeezed in behind me. “Pivot, ladies. The only way out of here is to turn on the spot like you’re in a beauty pageant. Twist and pivot.”

  We twisted and pivoted, pushing open the door on the other side of the glass wall and spilling out into the lobby.

  “That may be the strangest connecting door I’ve ever seen,” I said, giving a final glance to a broom that stood in the corner of the closet-cum-passage.

  Fern waved a hand in the air. “She’s heading for the entrance.”

  Dahlia looked over her shoulder as she ran under the covered portico and jumped in a waiting golf cart, taking off up the curved driveway.

  “She’s got wheels,” Fern said in a tone of disbelief.

  “So do we,” Kate said, making a beeline for an empty golf cart and hopping in the driver’s seat. I slid into the seat next to her, and Fern got in the back.

  “Do you know how to drive one of these things?” I asked as the cart lurched forward, and I grasped the top for balance.

  “It can’t be harder than driving a car,” she replied, gunning it up the drive.

  I decided not to mention that her driving didn’t often inspire confidence as Fern slid from one end of the back bench seat to the other, catching himself before flying onto the pavement.

  “There she is.” Kate pointed as we closed the distance between our golf cart and Dahlia’s. Luckily Dahlia’s cart had a pair of suitcases in the back seat weighing her down, so she wasn’t able to surge ahead.