by M. Z. Kelly
The last thing I wanted was the full Monty, but the prospect of having my shoulders and back rubbed won me over. I went to the locker room, slipped out of my clothes, and put on one of the inn’s fluffy robes.
When I rejoined my friends, I said, “I’m going to ask for a private room when Rosie gets here.”
“All the private rooms are booked,” Nana said. “You’re just afraid to show us the meat and potatoes.”
“Come on, Kate,” Natalie said. “We all know you got small breasts and your vajayjay is bald.”
“I don’t have…” I saw that the technicians working on them were laughing. “Forget it.” I went over to a corner of the room and did my best to discretely disrobe, keeping a towel on my unmentionable regions as I got on the massage table.
“You’re acting like a schoolgirl,” Nana called over to me. “Rosie will take care of your shyness.”
I started to ask her what she meant but I was exhausted. I lay on my stomach and closed my eyes. I had just drifted off to sleep when I felt some hands on my back—big hands.
I lifted my head and nearly jumped off the table when I saw there was a man working on my shoulders who looked like he belonged on a football team.
The man smiled. “I’m Rosie. I’m supposed to give you an all-over.”
I pulled my towel tighter around myself. “I don’t want…”
Nana interrupted, telling Rosie, “Whatever you do, don’t let her up.”
Despite a lengthy protest, pleas to Natalie and Mo to intervene, and me begging Rosie to let me go, nothing worked. After several minutes of him kneading my shoulders, I finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep.
Almost an hour later, I opened my eyes and saw the faces of Natalie, Mo, and Nana hovering over me.
“What happened?” I asked, sitting up and moaning.
“Rosie gave you an all-over while you was sleepin’ like a baby,” Natalie said with a grin on her face.
“We thought you was dead,” Mo added.
“Until you started snoring like a freight train,” Nana said. “That was before you had the orgasm.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I glanced around the room. “Where’s…Rosie?”
Nana smiled. “I think he just went to have a cigarette.”
I saw Natalie lowering her gaze and realized that my towel had slipped down, exposing my breasts. “Looks like the nosh nozzles are happy ‘bout the way things went,” she said.
I wrapped my towel tighter as they all laughed.
“Get yourself dressed,” Nana said. “I’ve got a problem, and we need to talk.”
A half hour later, we had all gathered around a table on an outdoor patio, ordered drinks, and Nana told us what was on her mind.
“As you all probably know, Claude’s relatives are contesting his will. They’re trying to take away the fortune that I rightfully inherited, and I’ve got that hearing coming up.”
Our drinks came over. When the server left, our elderly friend continued. “I’m in need of someone who can put a curse on Claude’s mother, Wilhelmina. She’s the one who’s rallying the others to take me to court.”
“You mean like somebody who can put the evil eye on her?” Natalie asked.
“Exactly,” Nana confirmed. “I want her to break out into warts and start retching until she gives up and accepts that I’m the rightful heir to Claude’s fortune.”
“Sounds like you need somebody who knows voodoo,” Mo said. “And there’s only one person who fits that bill.”
For some reason they all looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said, “but my voodoo skills are a little rusty, and I haven’t cursed anybody since…” I thought about Darby. “…since this morning.”
“But you know someone who does,” Nana said.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Griselda Lugosi.”
“Lady Prince’s friend, the one with the moustache,” Natalie said.
“She’s a doctor from the old country, where Claude’s relatives are from,” Nana said. “A doctor of potions, spells, and incantations.”
“I betcha Griselda’s from Transylvania,” Mo said. “She probably gives blood transfusions to vampires in her spare time.”
“You ask me, she’s like some kinda Jedi Knight, maybe Yoda with a moustache,” Natalie said. She looked at me. “You need to help Nana out. If she wins the court hearing, she’s agreed to give us all lifetime free massages here at the Mission Bell.”
“And I’ll personally see to it that Rosie is assigned to you,” Nana said to me. She looked at my friends. “I think Kate really did have an orgasm during her massage.”
“I did not…” I looked at Natalie and Mo, who smirked and raised their brows. “Did I?”
Natalie answered. “All we can say is that you were screaming stuff like God yes, oh please, and don’t stop.”
After more denials and me feeling like a fool for even entertaining the possibility, I said to Nana, “I don’t have any relationship with Griselda, so I’m not sure how I can help.”
“Just slip her my card,” Nana said, pushing a business card across the table to me. “I’ve heard she only works based on referrals.”
I took her card and read the motto on the front aloud: “An International Woman of Refinement and Culture.”
“Please help me out,” Nana begged. “If she doesn’t put a spell on Wilhelmina, I’ll have to go to court, and my fate will rest with that lawyer of yours.”
“You really hired Hermes Krump?” I said, laughing.
Nana nodded. “He’s now a partner with Mean Gene, the Suing Machine. They think they can win.”
“If those two are working together, it would be nothing short of a miracle.” I put the card in my purse, adding, “I’ll see what I can do.”
After Nana went home, Natalie insisted on ordering us all a round of something called Rum Dumb Bum’s, a concoction she said that she personally worked with the Mission Bell bartender on perfecting. We then all got into the hot tub, where I cautiously took a sip of the drink, remembering that Natalie’s cocktails had a tendency to sneak up on you and floor you with a roundhouse punch.
“I heard a rumor at Nirvana today,” Mo said. Even though she was in her swimsuit, she was still wearing a curly red wig, and steam rose above her head. “According to one of the staff, that Marisha Dole woman and Bert were still going at it hot and heavy.”
Natalie said she’d heard the same thing, then added, “You ask me, Bert was doin’ the squirt with the agent to get the upper hand on things.”
I played dumb. “What do you mean?”
Natalie used the umbrella in her drink to pierce a cherry and pop it in her mouth. “One of the production assistants for the show took a shine to me. He said rumor had it that the show was in the red and losing viewers. Marisha was supposedly helping cover some of the expenses using money owed to Lady and the tramps.”
“Lady and who?”
She laughed. “That’s the nickname they use for her daughters.”
“I think there’s a financial angle to your case,” Mo said. “Me and baby sis are gonna keep digging ‘till we get to the bottom of things.”
Natalie agreed. “Mo and me are gonna stay on the trail of this case, sniffin’ it out like a bag full of buttholes.”
“Now that conjures up an image.” I said. Maybe the reference to buttholes brought Darby to mind as I added, “Just be sure to keep a low profile. I’ve got to investigate the case and can’t have anyone saying you’re interfering.”
“Interfering?” Mo said. “We’re the best investigators you got. Me and Natalie are like a couple of moles, working the case from the inside.”
I decided not to push the issue, since my friends had a tendency to get upset if I tried to rein them in. Instead, I changed the subject, mentioning Bernie. “He’s supposed to be released in a couple of days.” I looked at Natalie who had already finished her drink. “Do you think you could watch him during the day and may
be take him to physical therapy for me until he’s back on duty?”
“Not a problem. I’ll have him chasin’ bitches ‘round the mobile home park before you know it—and we all know that place is full of bitches.” She then asked about Noah. “What’s the latest with you and Dr. Doggy?”
“I’m taking things slow. We exchanged texts, and he wants to meet for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Slow,” Mo said. She looked at Natalie. “That means Kate’s magic muffin’s back in the fridge.”
“There’s nothing worse than a cold vagina,” Natalie said. “I still got that Mr. Kong ‘round here somewhere if you wanna use it.”
Natalie had gone shopping with Nana a few days ago, and they’d bought vibrators. She’d showed me her Mr. Kong, and it looked intimidating, at best, painful, at worst.
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I said. I was already feeling the effects of my drink when I saw the server bringing over more drinks.
Natalie insisted that I have another Bum as Mo said to me, “You have a chance to talk to Pearl yet?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been busy with work. I’m hoping to go by this weekend.”
“What you gonna do if he says he is your daddy?”
I finished my first drink and picked up the second one. “I’ve given that a lot of thought. I think I’m going to say it was wrong for him to hide in plain sight all these years, not admit he was my father.”
Mo fixed her large brown eyes on me and nodded. “In a way, I’m not surprised he might be your baby daddy. I thought you might have some sister blood in you all these years.”
They clinked glasses as Natalie said, “Kate could be a sister from a brother.”
I laughed, now really feeling the effects of my drink. “If he is my father, maybe I’ll invite him to my upcoming family reunion.”
“You might wanna give that some thought,” Mo said. “He just might disown you again.”
What she’d said was intended to be funny, but it hurt me, knowing that he’d never made an effort to be a part of my life.
Natalie must have seen my distress. She slapped me on the back and said, “Not to worry, Kate. Your real family is right in front of you.” We all clinked our glasses together as she made a toast: “Sisters forever, always together.”
TWELVE
The next morning, I groaned and sat up in bed, feeling a little rum dumb from Natalie’s drinks. After a long, hot shower, my head began to clear, and I started to focus on the day ahead. Noah had offered to take me to dinner tonight, but I hadn’t yet confirmed with him. The truth was, I was feeling a little conflicted about seeing him, unsure where our relationship was headed.
I called Pearl to see if he could meet with Leo and me this evening, knowing that if he could meet, I’d have a legitimate excuse for not seeing Noah. The call went to voice mail, and I left a message for him to call me.
I was about to head out the door when my phone rang. It was Joe Dawson, an FBI agent I’d worked with in the past.
“How are things in La La Land, Buttercup?” Joe asked.
I’d let Joe take some liberties with the nickname he’d chosen for me, given that we’d bonded over some tough cases we’d worked together. “I’m actually staying at a spa up in the hills of Malibu for a couple of days, getting a little R&R in between cases.”
“Malibu, huh? Sounds like my kind of place.”
Somehow I couldn’t see Joe Dawson staying at the Mission Bell Inn. I couldn’t really see Joe staying anywhere or even taking a vacation, for that matter. His whole life was chasing bad guys, most of them killers, who he delighted in putting away for life. When he did have some free time, I had the impression that he filled it up with too much booze and his second passion, crossword puzzles.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, feeling my anxiety rise because I knew he was probably calling about my sister.
“Just wanted to give you an update. That informant we have agreed to work undercover. We dropped him off outside of Nashville yesterday. He thinks some of the Swarm are there and they could have Lindsay.”
The Swarm was a group of radicalized killers that had taken my sister hostage a few months back. Joe had a theory that Lindsay had purposely gone with her kidnappers to infiltrate the group and possibly turn them into the authorities if the circumstances eventually permitted her to act. I desperately hoped that was true, both for my sister’s sake and because they were a group of domestic terrorists who would stop at nothing to destroy our way of life.
“Does the informant think they’re holding my sister captive?”
“He thinks she’s gone over to the dark side, but I’m still holding out hope she’s batting for our team. Time will tell.”
My anxiety turned to desperation as I said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’ll let you know. Greer wants to see how things play out for a few days.”
John Greer was Joe’s boss. He’d been instrumental in allowing Joe to work the case for the past several months.
I thanked him for the update and was about to end the call when he asked, “So, how are things going with you and the vet?”
We’d shared a lot of personal information over the past several months, and Joe knew all about my difficulties with Noah. “I’m not sure, actually. He asked me to dinner tonight, but I’m still trying to decide whether the relationship will work.”
“You want my opinion?”
I laughed. “Why not? Everyone seems to have one when it comes to my love life, including Natalie and Mo.”
We chatted about my friends for a moment before he said, “My opinion is that this Noah guy isn’t good enough for you. The fact is, I’m not sure anyone’s good enough for you, Buttercup.”
I felt my eyes growing heavy and wasn’t sure how to respond. I was still searching for what to say when he said, “I’ve got to run. I’ll be in touch.”
After the call ended, I decided to take a couple of minutes to sort out my feelings. I took a cup of tea out to my balcony overlooking the ocean and thought about my sister and my family situation.
Lindsay had been raised by our biological mother, Judie Crawford, and her father, Ryan Cooper, the man who had eventually gone on to murder my love-dad. I hadn’t even known that I had a sister until a few months back when she’d surfaced after learning that her father had been stalking me. Lindsay had shot and killed him before he could kill me, saving my life, but also leaving her with some deep emotional scars.
I’d eventually convinced her to go to counseling with me, where she revealed that her father had sexually abused her as a child. That disclosure, and the opening of old wounds, had resulted in her making some bad choices and becoming involved in an abusive relationship. Her last boyfriend had been a member of the Swarm and had been instrumental in her being taken hostage.
I stood up and walked over to the railing, breathing in the cool morning air. I realized that Lindsay and I were alike in many ways. We were both lost souls, trying to cope with the devastation brought about by our shattered family life. When Ryan Cooper had murdered my love-dad, I’d believed he’d acted out of jealousy over his past relationship with Judie Crawford. In recent months I’d learned otherwise, that my love-dad’s death was probably linked to the murder of Jean Winslow.
My love-dad had worked part-time doing security work at Wallace Studios at the time; the same studio where Winslow had been under contract as an actress. While her death had officially been ruled a suicide, a few weeks back I’d learned that Donald Regis, the former head of the studio, might have been involved. Regis and Winslow had been lovers before she made demands to be let out of her contract. Despite her death having been ruled a suicide, I had my suspicions that Regis had been involved. There was also the possibility that a secret organization called The Revelation had a hand in what happened.
The Revelation was said to have a lot of control over the stars and the studios in the early days of Hollywood. I’d recently learned that a couple of
power players, Collin Russell and Harlan Ryland, had taken control of the organization about twenty years ago and formed something called the Tauist Society. The Tauists believed in a form of enlightenment and that they would eventually take over and change society. Russell had gone missing in recent weeks after telling me that he’d known my mother years ago and giving me some letters she’d written. As for Ryland, he had become a recluse, living in seclusion on the grounds of the Tauist Retreat, in the hills not too far from Hollywood.
I’d recently met with Winslow’s niece, Laura Trenton, who had shown me some old photographs belonging to her aunt. I’d found my love-dad in one of those photos, along with Ryan Cooper and Kellen Malone, Collin Russell’s son. I was still in a state of shock over also finding my former lieutenant Ozzie Powell in that same photograph. As you know, both Oz and my partner Leo knew my father back when they were all rookie cops. I wasn’t entirely convinced that Pearl was my biological father, but his name was the last word spoken by Oz.
I checked the time on my phone and realized I was running late. I resolved to put my family circumstances aside, at least for the day. We had a high profile case to work and a lieutenant that wasn’t happy about the way things were going.
***
“The brass is making my life miserable,” Edna said after all the same players had gathered around the conference table in the bat cave after arriving at the station. “I’m taking more heat on this case than a dead pig in the desert.”
“We weren’t able to get ahold of either Marisha Dole or Lady Prince last night,” I said. “We’re planning to go by Nirvana again this morning.”
“Make it happen,” the lieutenant said. “And make room. Mel Peters is going with you.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t fucking kid. The Media Relations Section and the chief are holding hands. They want Peters there all the way.”
“What’s your problem with Mel?” Darby asked me.
Melvina “Mel” Peters had been Darby’s partner a few weeks back. The haughty detective’s only real interest was in climbing the LAPD career ladder, and she didn’t have patience for anyone that got in her way. She’d also recently pumped me for information about my family issues. I was convinced that she’d helped kill any chance I had of convincing the department to reopen the investigation into my love-dad’s death.
