A Palette for Murder

by Sybil Johnson

  “Business?”

  “He’s trying to get funding for an exercise product he invented. Not sure what it is, but I bet it’s awesome.” She picked up a pair of five-pound weights and began a set of bicep curls, her gaze fixed on the two men as they worked. Rory picked up a set of two-pound weights and mimicked the other woman’s actions.

  Lance glanced in their direction and a slight frown came over his face.

  Rory turned her back to him and focused her attention on Marcia, who was showing her how to do a triceps kickback even as she kept an eye on the personal trainer.

  His fans seemed to have Lance under constant surveillance while he was at work. Rory sucked in her breath as a thought struck her. Maybe one of his admirers had gone beyond looking. Her gaze flitted from one woman to the next, all middle-aged, all gaga over the trainer. Could one of them have killed Willow in a jealous rage?

  “Lucky woman, that girlfriend of his. Do you know anything about her?” Rory said in a quiet voice.

  “Some stick of a grandma. She must have money. Don’t know what else he sees in her.”

  “You’ve met her? Does she belong to the gym?”

  “I’ve seen her once or twice. She stops by occasionally. Don’t think she’s strong enough to exercise. Haven’t seen her recently. Evelyn, over there,” Marcia nodded toward a woman using the leg curl machine, “even talked to her once.”

  From the things she said, she didn’t seem to know Willow was dead. Or maybe she only wanted it to appear that way.

  Marcia gave a nervous laugh. “That sounded a bit stalkerish, didn’t it? Don’t worry. We’re not like that. We just appreciate a handsome man. Look, don’t touch, that’s what my mama always told me.” She looked over Rory’s shoulder. Her eyes widened and she hastily replaced the weights on the rack. “Nice talking with you. Hope you join,” she said before beating a hasty retreat.

  “Rory?” a male voice said from behind her.

  As she turned to face Lance, he stuck out his hand as if meeting her for the first time. “I’m Lance. One of the trainers here. Are you ready for your personal tour?”

  Rory could almost feel the jealousy radiating from the other women as he took her elbow and led her around the weight room, pointing out various pieces of equipment. As soon as they exited the room and were alone in the hallway, looking through a window at a Zumba class in progress, he leaned toward her and said in a low voice, “I know why you’re here.”

  Rory’s heart beat faster and her eyes opened wide. “You do?”

  “Look, I loved Willow. She wasn’t some fling to me. I know some men are capable of it, but I can’t think about dating anyone right now. You understand?” He placed a hand on her arm.

  “But I’m not—”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re attractive. I’m sure you won’t have any problem finding someone else. I just wanted to be upfront, make sure you understood the situation.” He glanced at a clock on the wall. “I’ll let you look around the rest of the gym by yourself. I’ve got another client to take care of.” He waved and left her standing in the hallway staring in disbelief at his retreating figure.

  Moments later, Liz found her still shaking her head over the incident. “You look odd. Everything okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.” Rory sketched out Lance’s belief she was interested in him to her friend.

  “Some men are impossible. Be nice and they think you have the hots for them.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “Doug was in my yoga class. We’re meeting him in the juice bar. He’s got the skinny on Luscious Lance. Come on.”

  The two headed toward the front entrance to the gym where the juice bar was located and settled into seats at a table where Liz’s date from Saturday night was sipping a smoothie.

  “Go on. Tell her what you told me.” Liz nudged him with her shoulder.

  Doug looked around as if to make sure no one was listening and lowered his voice. “Lance has issues.”

  “What kind of issues?” Rory said.

  “Two, no, three weeks ago, he got into it with another personal trainer.”

  “Do you know what it was about?”

  “Jealousy. Lance thought the other trainer was having an affair with his girlfriend.”

  “You mean Willow?”

  He nodded. “Happened right here in this gym. In the weight room. The other trainer was with a client and Lance walked up to him, shouted something about staying away from his girl and shoved him. It was completely unprovoked. He said he knew the other guy was secretly seeing her and he wouldn’t stand for it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Saw it myself.”

  “What happened then?”

  “The other trainer—Big Jim—denied it, said he was seeing Willow on a professional level. He has some health issue he wouldn’t talk about. Lance didn’t believe him. A member had to pull them apart. Lance almost lost his job because of the incident.”

  “I wonder why he thought they were having an affair. She has a natural healing business downtown. A lot of her clients must be men.”

  “Maybe he’s just the jealous type. You remember him at the press conference. He accused the chief of having an affair with Willow,” Liz said.

  “Big Jim told me later that he’d been seeing Willow at her house instead of the store,” Doug said. “Lance found out about it and got the wrong idea.”

  “Any idea why he didn’t go to the store?”

  “He didn’t want anyone at the gym to know about his health issues.”

  “Did Jim have any problems here at work after the incident?” Rory asked.

  “None that I know of. He’s still a personal trainer here. Hasn’t lost any clients either.”

  “This Jim guy wouldn’t have a reason to kill Willow, anyway. He’d have gone after Lance if he’d gotten fired or something,” Liz said.

  “We should still talk to him,” Rory said.

  “I thought you might say that.” Doug shoved a business card across the table. “Here’s his number. If there’s nothing else, I need to get to work.”

  “Thanks,” Rory and Liz said in unison.

  After the man left, Rory said to her friend, “Jealousy could be a motive for Willow’s death. Lance accused at least two people of having an affair with her. Who knows how many others there are that we don’t know about.”

  “There must be some reason he thought she was being unfaithful. Maybe he confronted her and, when she admitted it, he killed her in a rage.” Liz plunged an imaginary knife into her own chest.

  “Lance wasn’t the only one who’s jealous. He’s got quite the following here at the gym.” Rory told her about the women watching him work in the weight room. “Some of them have met Willow and even talked to her.”

  Liz’s face lit up with excitement. “One of his groupies could have followed her home and killed her.” She made another stabbing motion.

  “Stop stabbing yourself in the chest. It’s unnerving. If Lance killed her, I doubt he would state so publicly his thoughts about her cheating.”

  “He might if he thought he had an alibi. Wasn’t he out of town?”

  Rory nodded. “In San Diego. He flew down there, but it’s only a two or three-hour drive, depending on traffic. He could have borrowed a car, driven back up here hoping to find her shacked up with someone. Maybe he saw the chief leave her place, assumed the worst and confronted her, killing her in a rage.”

  “It could have happened that way.”

  “He’s not the only possibility. There’s Teresa.” Rory told her what the woman had said during the cake tasting the previous day. “She’s been staying at the Akaw for a week now.”

  “Not being able to see your kids, that’s rough. She loves being a mom. What do we do now?�
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  “We need to check out both of their alibis.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “I’m not sure about Lance—yet—but I have an idea how we can check on Teresa.”

  Chapter 14

  The automatic doors whooshed open for Rory and Liz as they walked into the Akaw hotel in downtown Vista Beach a short time later. Guests milled around the lobby of the beach-themed hotel situated on a hill overlooking the ocean. A woman in a Hawaiian print dress with a badge pinned to her chest looked up from the concierge’s desk and smiled.

  “Welcome back to the Akaw. I haven’t seen you two since you attended that painting convention in June. What brings you here?” Nell Fremont said.

  “We’re visiting a friend, Teresa Mut,” Liz said.

  The hotel manager’s smile faded.

  “Is there a problem?” Rory asked. “She’s okay, isn’t she?”

  “No, no problem.” Nell sighed. “I love managing this hotel, but sometimes I wish I did something else. Mrs. Mut has, shall we say, overstayed her welcome.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “One of the owners has been allowing her to stay at the hotel free of charge during her recent…troubles. Weddings are now a big percentage of our banqueting business, largely thanks to her. But this is a busy time of year for us and we need that room. Plus her room service charges have been huge. Now the owner wants me to throw her out. As far as I can tell, she has nowhere to go. I hate the idea of tossing her out on the street. Maybe you two can help me.”

  “You want us to tell her to leave?” Rory asked, a shocked tone in her voice.

  “No, no, but you could help her find a place to stay until she gets back on her feet. Maybe with one of you?” Rory looked at Liz, who frowned and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

  “She could stay at my place,” Rory said. “But only if she’s willing. I’m not kicking her out for you, but I’ll make the offer.”

  Nell breathed a sigh of relief and the smile returned to her face. “I understand. You’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.” She furrowed her brow in thought, then her face brightened as if she’d come up with an idea. “Would you like a complimentary meal at the hotel restaurant?” She held out a coupon she picked up from a drawer in the desk.

  Rory waved away the piece of paper. “No thanks. We would like some information though. Do you happen to know if Teresa left the hotel Friday after about nine?”

  “Let me check.” They followed the hotel manager over to the front desk where she typed on a keyboard and studied the results on the display. “She had room service delivered at 7:35 that night. Nothing else after that.”

  “What about phone calls? Extra towels? Turn down service?”

  “I don’t see anything here. She probably used her own cell phone. Most people do. She has a car parked in hotel parking, but I can’t tell you if she took it out that night or not. We don’t keep track of entries and exits.”

  “What about security cameras? Is there one near the parking garage elevator or on any of the entrances to the hotel?”

  “Sorry, can’t give you access to those. We erase the footage every three days anyway. If there’s nothing else, let me call Teresa and let her know you’re here.” Nell picked up the phone and dialed. After a brief conversation, she hung up and gave them the room number.

  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Liz turned to Rory. “What are you thinking? Letting her stay with you? She could be a murderer.”

  “If she is, it must have been a spur-of-the-moment thing. She didn’t bring the murder weapon with her, it was on the kitchen counter. I don’t think she’s a threat to either one of us.”

  “I suppose.” Liz frowned.

  “She needs friends right now. We don’t know what her financial situation is. I don’t like the idea of her being homeless with no place to go, especially if I can do something about it.”

  “Maybe she’ll let something slip when she’s staying with you. Ooh, ooh.” Liz punched Rory on the arm. “We can get one of those nanny cams, something cute like a teddy bear. Put it on the dresser in her room. She’ll never know it’s there.”

  Rory rubbed her arm. “We can’t do that.”

  “Right. No video in the bedroom. Audio then. Voice-activated digital recorder hidden in a plant. I know where I can get one.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  Liz gave her friend an exasperated look. “Some detective you are,” she mumbled as the elevator doors opened onto the second floor.

  By the time they knocked on a door halfway down the hall, Liz was back to her usual chipper self.

  Teresa answered, a smile on her face. “How nice of you both to visit. Come in, come in.” She pulled two chairs from around a table, placed them at the end of the bed and sat down facing them. “I was surprised when I heard you were downstairs. What brings you here?”

  Rory and Liz settled down in the chairs. Liz raised an eyebrow and nodded, indicating Rory should start the conversation.

  “We’re worried about you. I was wondering if you would like to stay with me until things get resolved. I’ve got a guest bedroom.”

  “You want to know if I’d like to stay with you?” Teresa’s face registered surprise.

  “Just until you get back on your feet. It must be lonely staying in a hotel,” Liz said.

  Rory could almost hear the wheels turning in the woman’s brain as she considered the offer.

  “The hotel wants me out, don’t they?”

  “I would have asked anyway,” Rory said. “Come stay with me.”

  “Really? You would do that for me?” Teresa took off her glasses and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Can I use your kitchen?” A wistful expression appeared on her face. “I miss baking for my monkeys.”

  “My kitchen is yours.” Rory frowned as a sudden thought struck her. “You’re not allergic to cats, are you? I’m taking care of Willow’s cat right now.”

  “Sekhmet? She’s a doll. We get along great. Cats aren’t an issue for me at all.” Teresa pushed her glasses up her nose and sat up straighter. “I know you work at home so I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. I’ll only stay a few days until I can make other arrangements. I’ll earn my keep. Cook, clean, do laundry, whatever you need me to do.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist.”

  Before they left, Rory arranged for Teresa to move in the next morning, giving Rory the rest of the day to make sure her place was ready for company.

  “You can’t back out now even if you want to,” Liz said as the hotel room door closed behind them.

  When they exited the hotel and parted ways, Rory felt as if someone were watching her. As casually as possible, she looked behind her at the Akaw’s entrance but saw no one acting suspiciously. She dismissed the thought and headed to her car. On the drive home, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Several times, she spotted a silver SUV two car lengths behind her, mirroring every one of her movements, changing lanes when she did and turning onto the same streets after her. The SUV stayed far enough behind her she couldn’t see who was driving or read the license plate. She wasn’t even sure if the driver was a man or a woman.

  Instead of taking her usual route home, Rory drove in the opposite direction, turning onto several streets she usually didn’t go down, checking her mirrors after each turn. The suspicious vehicle followed her at a distance for a while, then sped down Main Street past Rory, its driver not even glancing at her as the car passed by.

  Rory’s shoulders relaxed. Either she’d been mistaken or the culprit had realized she knew someone was tailing her and had stopped the pursuit.

  As she turned onto Seagull Lane, she saw the gate into Willow’s backyard swing shut as if someone had walked through it seconds before. Curious. The last
time she drove past the house, the gate had been latched. Crime scene tape still encircled the property, but the police hadn’t left anyone on guard.

  Figuring Lance had been given the go ahead to pick up his things, Rory parked her car in her own driveway and headed to Willow’s house to talk with him. She ducked under the yellow tape and went through the gate into the backyard, her footsteps muffled by the grass.

  She had one foot on the bottom step of the deck when she spotted two figures through the open French doors, neither of them the man she expected to see. Dressed all in black, they walked toward the bookcase in the living room next to the kitchen. The hoods of their sweatshirts covered their heads, obscuring their faces. Their backs to her, the taller of the two reached for something on the top shelf.

  Rory backed away as silently as possible, crouched down by a plant and dialed 911 on her cell phone. In a whisper, she explained the situation to the operator. After she hung up, she thought about leaving the way she came, but she was afraid she would make too much noise and alert the intruders to her presence. She quietly crept forward as close to the bush as possible so they wouldn’t know she was there. When her foot hit one of the rocks that formed the border of the flower bed, an involuntary cry sprang from her lips.

  “What was that?” The taller intruder looked toward the back door.

  Rory crouched down by the shrub and stayed as quiet as possible, her gaze fixed on the living room.

  The intruder listened for a moment, then dropped what he was holding and said, “I don’t like this. Let’s get out of here.”

  Their heads bent down, the two scurried out the French doors and raced down the side of the house toward Seagull Lane. Keeping a safe distance behind them, Rory followed, but by the time she reached the street, they were long gone.

  Seconds later, a patrol car drove up and slid into a parking spot in front of the house. A uniformed officer stepped out and walked toward her. After she explained the situation to him, he went through the gate into the backyard to make sure no one else was in the house. By the time he returned, Detective Green had arrived in his own car. The two conferred, then the uniformed officer left.