by Lotta Smith
“Wow,” I muttered. “So, basically, it was total chaos.”
“Yup.” Jackie nodded. “It was fun—except being slightly adult themed. Sophie, we want you to enjoy a little more time with Bugs Bunny and SpongeBob.” She floated by the stroller.
“Bunny!” Sophie lifted her bunny toy.
When the three of us were giggling, Rick and Detective Rogers came out of the office—with Ken who didn’t try to conceal his irritation.
“Da-ddy!” Sophie happily called to Rick as she saw him, which made him super delighted.
“Hello, darling.” Picking her up, he cooed. “You’re in the mood for cuddling now, right, baby?”
“Yes, she is,” Jackie agreed. “You want to enjoy as much cuddling as possible when she’s feeling open to this activity.”
When I whispered her message into his ear, he let out a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah. I wish she were always as welcoming as now.”
“Is that your daughter?” Ken asked, blinking his red eyes.
“Yes, she is. Look at her eyes—the same shade of green as mine,” Rick told him proudly.
“Oh…okay. How lovely…” Ken mumbled, and he looked like he was itching to say something more such as “I can’t believe you brought your baby daughter to a murder scene!” but he knew better—as he kept whatever opinion to himself.
Detective Rogers led Ken Blanchett to the locker room to recreate the scene when he and Denise discovered dead Shannon.
“Hello, Mr. Blanchett.” Shannon offered him a welcoming smile, but, of course, he didn’t respond. Perhaps, greeting customers was something deeply ingrained in her bones.
“I was standing behind Denise. When she opened the door, she froze for a moment, and then she dashed inside. I didn’t know what was happening, but then my eyes registered on someone collapsed on the floor…” he explained.
“And?” Detective Rogers looked at him.
“I was standing here like an idiot for a while, but Denise started shrieking like mad. At this moment, I knew something terrible had happened. So, I approached her and realized it was Shannon on the floor…” Ken gulped and took a deep breath. “She was horribly wounded in her head. I checked for her pulse but couldn’t feel it. By that time, people who heard Denise’s shriek were gathering here, so I said ‘Someone, call 9-1-1!’ I had my phone inside the locker, and Shannon was laying in front of my section.”
Shannon was silent as she listened to him. Her face was tight, looking paler than a minute ago.
“Did you see who made the call?” Rick interjected.
“A guy in a dark suit,” Ken replied. “The store manager, I guess. The 9-1-1 operator told us to keep on CPR procedures. So, the male esthetician and I took turns on doing that. I’ve had my share of CPR training, but I’ve never even imagined I’d use that on this day.”
“Okay.” Detective Rogers crossed her arms.
“The ambulance arrived in five to six minutes. The paramedics came here and carried her on the stretcher. Though I didn’t see them out of this spa, I imagine they’d taken her to the hospital. The guy in a suit came with them.” Ken gave the detective a nervous glance.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I don’t recall anything he said.” Shannon knitted her eyebrows.
“Perhaps, you died instantly,” Jackie said. “But on the bright side, you didn’t suffer a lot.”
“Mr. Blanchett. Did you know Shannon was quitting this spa by the end of this month?” Detective Rogers asked.
“Oh, really? I didn’t know that.” Ken widened his eyes. He seemed truly surprised.
“Mr. Blanchett.” Rick cleared his throat. “According to the sources, the victim happened to know a secret of yours, right?”
“Wh-what? Excuse me?” Ken stuttered, his gaze moving fast like a fly on meth.
“It appears that Shannon used to say that she had a dark secret belonging to Mr. Blanchett.” Rick lowered his voice.
“Hello? I didn’t say I was talking about Mr. Blanchett’s secret,” Shannon corrected, but neither Rick nor Ken heard her.
“Oh…” Ken shut his eyes, shaking his head. “She promised me never to tell anyone about that… She told me she’d completely erased that from her visual memory. How could she?”
“What did she know?” Detective Rogers asked.
“I can’t tell that to anyone!” Ken snapped.
“Are you afraid of being prosecuted?” The detective furrowed her eyebrows.
“No way! It’s…it’s just my personal—”
“We have a confidentiality clause, Mr. Blanchett,” Rick said.
Ken’s shoulders heaved. For a moment, he was holding his head, mumbling something incoherent, but when he raised his head, he looked determined. “I have…well, my belly button happens to be protruding…” He was turning all red in his face and ears.
“Pardon me?” The detective furrowed her eyebrows as if she seriously doubted if she’d heard him right.
“I said I have a very outgoing belly button!” he snapped. “Look, it was an accident. When Shannon was giving me a lymphatic massage back in May, the towel around my torso fell off…and she saw my happy belly button.”
“Oh, now that he mentions it, I remember that,” Shannon said coolly. “Fixing a protruding belly button is a job for cosmetic surgeons, not for us.”
“Did you kill her to keep your secret from being shared?” Detective Rogers looked at Ken with sharp eyes.
“Oh my God! Did you?” Shannon’s eyes widened in apparent shock as she stared at Ken.
“Of course not!” He shook his head fast and furious. “Going through a cosmetic surgery is way easier and less scary than committing a murder!”
“Oh…” Shannon looked at Jackie and me. “I think his logic makes sense.”
“Me, too,” Jackie agreed with Sophie happily nodding in her stroller.
“All right, you can go back to the reception area.” Detective Rogers sighed.
“As I said, I expect my secret will remain in this room, okay?” Emphasizing this phrase over and over, Ken left the room.
When he was out of earshot, the detective looked around at us. “What did you think about him?”
“I felt that he was telling the truth about not killing me,” Shannon said. “He’d rather have a surgical procedure to fix his belly button rather than committing a murder—I felt it quite rational.”
“I agree with you,” Jackie chimed in. “Besides that, killing you off almost nine months later is ridiculous.”
“That’s true.” I nodded and passed on their words.
“I see. If he wanted to silence her to keep his secret, waiting for such a long time seems ridiculous.” Detective Rogers tilted her head.
“Exactly,” Rick said. “The only problem is that his alibi is still shaky. Still, in my opinion, I don’t see a reason why he would have used the facial machine to kill her. It would have been easier to use the belt of his spa robe to strangle her.”
“I’m betting on Denise the stalker,” Jackie voiced her opinion. “Having heard about her snatching her love interest’s used tissues, I can’t help but feel the presence of something deep, dark, and creamy.”
“Creamy? What do you mean?” Shannon raised an eyebrow.
“I was trying to describe her dark side,” Jackie replied. “I know creamy isn’t a commonly used word for that, but imagine her stealing dirty garbage with her crush’s bodily fluids. That takes the word gross to a whole new level.”
“You’re right.” Shannon made a face. “That’s truly gross.”
While listening to the ghosts, I passed on their conversation to Rick and Detective Rogers, and we came to the conclusion that the chances of Ken Blanchett being the killer were slim.
CHAPTER 9
Cameron Errol, another client at the spa when Shannon was killed, turned out to be a handful too.
First of all, while Sophie and I were relaxing in the reception area, he came storming out of the office, shrieki
ng something like “Oh my God, oh my God, ohmigod! I’m dying of embarrassment!”
“Wah?” Sophie looked at him and then at me questioningly.
“Ahh!” Still shrieking, he stormed out of the spa, and before the door closed, I caught him punching the buttons for the elevator door and jumping inside.
“Ahh!” Sophie imitated him by swinging her arms and screaming at the top of her lungs, attracting everyone’s attention in the place.
“Darling, that’s not funny. We want to be quiet,” I whispered into her ear. “Miss Bunny says she wants some quiet time.”
“Qwait?” my daughter whispered.
“Yes, quiet,” I said and changed my tone of voice into a high-pitched one. “Thank you, Sophie. For a nice quiet time.”
“Bunny!” Sophie hugged the rabbit and giggled.
“Bunny loves you, darling.” Whispering to her, I was happy to see her seemingly forgetting about Cameron—who stormed out of the place shrieking and barefoot, wearing nothing but that spa robe. His long blond hair and perfectly manicured nails with glittering nail polish were at odds with his voice that was slightly too low, husky, and beasty. Throwing a temper tantrum dressed as he was, he looked hilarious, but I didn’t laugh. I didn’t want to risk Sophie thinking it was okay if she threw a temper tantrum.
“Sophie, would you like some tea?” I offered her a baby mug of decaf tea, which she accepted with a smile.
As I tried to act casually, Jackie came to us and informed me about what led to Cameron screaming and throwing a fit. “He demanded to be treated like a lady, and then he tried a pickup line on Rick, openly saying he’d fess up to any crimes—even those he didn’t commit—just to see a smile on Rick’s face.”
My eyebrows lifted, and speechless, I stared at Jackie.
“He was so lame but at the same time hilarious!” Jackie hadn’t stopped laughing since she came out of the office. “With the makeup and everything, he almost passes as a woman, but his five o’clock shadow is just showing, and it’s only fifteen minutes to four o’clock. I can’t believe he thought Rick would fall for him.”
“Okay. How did Rick react to her?” I asked casually.
“Oh, he’d put on his signature poker face, looking the other way, pretending he didn’t hear that guy.” She shrugged. “All right, let’s get to the part about the case.” She walked me through the rest of the interview.
Cameron Errol had openly admitted to disliking Shannon. She’d sold many products and packages to him, but he hadn’t attained the beauty Shannon had possessed.
Today, Shannon had greeted him in the reception area. When she led Cameron to the locker room, he didn’t notice the facial massager in that room. He had fifteen minutes of alone time in which he could have killed Shannon.
“Why did he run away?” I asked Jackie. “He was shrieking something like he can’t go on with his life.”
“Oh, that’s because Detective Rogers mentioned his secret before he answered,” Jackie said nonchalantly. “When she told him that Shannon seemed to know his secret, he became super agitated, blurting out ‘I should have offed her myself!’ which made the detective super serious and rather aggressive in questioning him. So, Cameron fessed up that his name Cameron Errol was his stage name, and Detective Rogers was like ‘So, what? We know your legal name is Steve Bassett,’ and that’s when he started screaming.
“He thought he’d been putting on a perfect disguise as a photogenic transgender woman, but he was still shying away from gender reassignment surgeries and legally changing his name into a more feminine one. He knew he wanted to be Cameron Errol, but the legal processes and the paperwork gave him the willies, so he still kept his birth name, Steve Bassett—concealing it as his top secret.
“Anyway, Shannon had accidentally found out about his real name when he left his Chanel wallet with his driver’s license. Of course, Shannon swore never to tell his secret to anyone.”
“Oh, did he call that a secret?” I tilted my head when Jackie finished explaining. “Still, he seemed like an eccentric person, so that trivial secret might have been huge enough for him to commit a murder.”
“Maybe.” Jackie shrugged.
“Hey.” Rick joined us, coming out of the office. “How are you doing, darlings?” he said, doing a high-five with Sophie, who offered her hand and said, “Dadd-y!”
“We’re good. Jackie just walked me through the interview. Cameron Errol, a.k.a. Steve Bassett, went running out of the salon and jumped into the elevator,” I informed him, pointing at the door.
“Fine.” He nodded curtly. “He won’t make it that far. A bunch of uniforms will get him at the building’s exit.”
“Hmm, that’s a good point.” I chuckled, recalling Cameron—or rather, Steve—running in that spa robe.
“Besides, it’s doubtful that he’s the killer.” Rick shrugged. “When the first responding police officers arrived here, he was fast asleep while soaking in a detoxing bath. The uniform who found him said he was drooling and it took a while to wake him up. Not to mention the towels were unused, and there were no wet footprints.”
“If that’s the case, he’s just a pathetically weird guy,” I commented.
“Yup. He’s a slightly neurotic weirdo,” Jackie concluded.
“Right. Can you come with us to the locker room again?” Rick said, and I stood up.
When I asked Shannon to tell us about Cameron, the ghost looked confused.
“I don’t think Ms. Errol is my killer.” She shook her head.
As I relayed her words, Detective Rogers said, “Then again, she said she was jealous of your beauty.”
“Oh, did she? Still, cosmetic surgery would be the only solution if she wanted to change her looks. The difference between me and her had everything to do with the skeletal structures,” she said matter-of-factly. “Besides that, she was genetically a male, needing a ton of hormonal therapy and everything.”
“Oh…okay.” Jackie furrowed her eyebrows. “Did you tell that to him?”
“Of course not. He’s my client.” Shannon covered her mouth with her palm. “I mean, she, not he.”
Rick cleared his throat. “According to Ms. Errol, you went out of the room with the detoxing bath at around eleven twenty-five, and never came back.”
“I believe so.” Shannon nodded. “Even though I don’t recall the time, but I remember going out of the detoxing bathroom making sure Ms. Errol had started the session.”
“After leaving the bathroom, did you come here directly? Or did you drop by the office?” Detective Rogers asked.
“I must have come here directly.” Shannon’s frown deepened. “Considering that the office is in the opposite direction to here from the detox bath, leaving the bath, dropping by the office, and then coming here is an improbable route. At least, I’ve never taken such a complex route before. I’m talking from my habits.”
Detective Rogers and Rick listened in silence as I passed on her words.
“So, Shannon, does that mean you came to the locker room at around eleven twenty-six?” Rick asked into midair where the ghost floated.
“I suppose so.” Shannon nodded.
“Did you get hit in the head immediately after you went inside? Or was it a while later?” He went on with more questions as I relayed her response.
“Well, let me see…” Shannon thought for a while. “I think I was alive for some time while here in the locker room. I usually check out each locker starting with the one closest to the door.”
“That means the approximate time of your death is sometime between eleven twenty-eight to forty,” Detective Rogers muttered.
“I…believe so.” Shannon bit her lower lip.
* * *
Robin Clement, a younger esthetician, was the last interviewee. He was in the facial treatment room with Brian when Shannon was found murdered. This time, the interview started in the office and moved to the facial treatment where Detective Rogers and Rick made sure his stated time line check
ed out with the one Shannon had provided.
Sophie and I joined them at the facial treatment room—mostly because Sophie got bored with staying in the reception area. I tried to distract her with Looney Tunes on YouTube, but that didn’t work.
The facial treatment room resembled something like a high-end hair salon and was large enough to accommodate Sophie’s stroller. The chairs in that room resembled dental chairs. Robin stated that he and Brian went into the treatment room at around 11:20 a.m. and that the room was usually equipped with three of the Sonictron massagers, but one of them had been moved to the locker room—to be used as a murder weapon. When he treated Brian, he didn’t count the machines, so he wasn’t sure if it was in that room or missing. As for Brian, he wasn’t paying much attention to the number of machines, either. So, the mystery of when the machine moved to the locker room wasn’t solved.
During the treatment procedure, Robin and Brian didn’t notice anyone moving in or out of this room. They never left the room during the process. While Brian talked like the Brian Powers appearing on his megahit TV shows, full of confidence with a touch of charisma—in spite still being clad in a spa robe—Robin’s tone was calm, bordering on shy. Indeed, he answered the questions asked but nothing more. I had a hunch he wasn’t as good a sales rep as the late Shannon.
