Gossip Can Be Murder

by Connie Shelton

  When the waiter came back to make sure everything was all right, I commented on the fabulous chocolate concoction.

  “Yes, very good, isn’t it? It’s also very high protein, you know. Made with tofu.”

  I did a hard swallow. He chuckled and cleared the glasses. “It fools everyone,” he said.

  I wandered leisurely through the main lobby on my way to the spa, refusing to feel guilty about the two desserts. If they were made of tofu, even chocolatized, they had to be healthy. Besides, I’d eaten all my veggies—I was entitled. In the reception area of the spa building a dark-haired young man greeted me. After checking my reservation he handed me a folded cotton robe and pointed me toward the ladies dressing rooms.

  Ten minutes later I met my masseuse, Joanne, and was shown to a room where the light shone softly from indirect fixtures. Scented oil perfumed the air with a tantalizing aroma of spices and flowers.

  “I see that you’ve signed up for our signature massage, the Total Body and Soul Experience,” she said. “It’s designed to both invigorate and relax, to improve the flow of energy through your body, and to infuse you with a profound sense of peace.”

  A tall order. “Sounds fabulous,” I said.

  “I’ll leave you alone for a couple of minutes. Leave your robe here and lie down on the table, face up. Just close your eyes and relax.”

  After that big lunch I’d probably be doing well if I weren’t snoring before she came back.

  As it turned out, Joanne was absolutely right. I did feel both invigorated and relaxed by the end of my hour and a half. I floated out of the room wondering what it would take to hire her away from here and have her just stand in the corner of my office. I could go for one of those treatments every afternoon. I showered and changed, using the herbal shampoo and conditioner provided in the locker room.

  By the time I drifted back to the room for nutrition class, I felt ready to meditate some more then report for happy hour. The tension of the morning in Rita’s class was nearly forgotten. I did my best to focus on the information on food preparation, but they didn’t cover one single thing you could defrost and reheat in under five minutes. I’m not exactly a crack chef, you’ve noticed, and I found my attention wandering. Luckily, the handouts covered the important stuff for Linda’s benefit.

  When the class took a short tea break I surreptitiously peeked at the readout on my cell phone. I’d missed a call from Ron an hour ago. I ducked out to the courtyard and called him back.

  “Where are you?” he said querulously.

  “Geez, grumpy, you need to relax. You know where I am. Santa Fe. I told you about the whole thing with Linda.” I felt my mellow mood slip. Took a deep breath “What’s up?”

  “Drake’s deposition has been moved up to this week. I need copies of all of your simulator data.”

  Although I’d left notes about all this on his desk, I told him where to find it, working to keep my voice level. Clearly I was picking up on Drake’s attitude about the case; getting it over with might be the best thing to put everyone’s tempers back on an even keel. I spoke with Ron for another minute then made the excuse that I needed to get back to class.

  I trailed back inside, my former state of elation now almost completely gone. At least I wasn’t sleepy anymore, so I diligently began taking notes on the six food tastes and the importance of eating the right combinations of food for your body type.

  The entire group had made it for the afternoon session, including Rex Storm, who’d apparently taken the chastisement seriously after his cell phone incident this morning. He’d taken a seat as front-and-center as one could get, grabbing the limelight even here. Nicole was studiously taking notes while Gerald lounged in a half-sprawl in his chair. Dina sat straight up in her chair, obviously taking it easy on her tender back muscles.

  Trudie, I noticed, had stationed herself as near to Rex as she could and spent more of her time staring at him than watching the instructor. From my vantage point, it became clear that Trudie’s fascination with the aging rock star could easily border on obsession. I wondered if Rex had picked up on it.

  Chapter 9

  I left the afternoon meditation session, again feeling refreshed and relaxed all at once. I headed for the room, thinking it might be a good time to catch Drake.

  He answered his cell on the third ring and I could hear jukebox music and voices in the background. To keep from shouting above the din, he excused himself to someone there and told me he would step outside.

  “Sorry, hon,” he said. “Those guys can’t seem to just quietly drink a beer after work.”

  “I talked to Ron earlier. He told me about your deposition being moved forward.”

  He made a snarling noise. No surprise.

  “Maybe we could meet in Santa Fe for dinner before you go back to Albuquerque?” I suggested.

  He jostled the phone a little and I heard him flipping pages in that little notebook he keeps in his shirt pocket. “Yeah . . . day after tomorrow should work. I think we’re finishing up the job here by early afternoon. Could we make it a late lunch? Early dinner?”

  “Either. You set the time and I’ll be there. Meet at the airport?”

  We’d just finalized the plan when I heard a key card in the lock. “Linda’s back—gotta go, love you.”

  “So, did you pick up any more gossip from good old Pat?” I teased as Linda came into our room.

  “Sheesh—that woman!” She kicked off her shoes and flung herself onto her bed. “I’m amazed she made it through medical school. Truly, she spends more time poking into everyone else’s business than studying the material.”

  “Speaking of which, here are the notes I took in class today.” I handed her several sheets, along with the handouts Shirley had given us. “And you were right about the massages. The one I had today was fabulous.”

  “I told you. Boy, I could’ve used one myself.” She rolled over and rested her head on her crossed forearms. “I think I’ll schedule one for tomorrow.”

  As it turned out, we ended up at the spa at the same time on Tuesday. After another of Rita’s contentious yoga classes, I was more than ready for it.

  “I hate to agree with Pat, but I can’t believe Rita still has a job. Especially at a place like this,” I told Linda as we made our way to adjoining changing rooms. “She’s alienated everyone in the class already, and it’s only the second day. Dina didn’t even come. She’s nursing a sore back from the first class. And Gerald Mayhew skipped too. He strikes me as a guy who doesn’t put up with a lot.”

  I gathered my clothes and stuffed them into a locker. Here I was, being as bad a gossip as Pat. I better watch my mouth.

  This time I got an entirely different massage treatment, one that involved dribbling warm oil over my forehead. As awful as the description sounded, the reality was quite pleasant and I found myself once more leaving with a sense of peace and contentment.

  “I’m not calling Ron at all today,” I told Linda as we sat in a bubbling hot spa an hour later. “He and Drake are just going to have to work out their own stuff on that helicopter case. I’m not getting into it. I’m here to enjoy myself.”

  “Live in the moment, Charlie,” she said. Her voice sounded drowsily happy.

  “It sounds sensible, doesn’t it?”

  “It is sensible. All this worrying takes its toll on your body, you know.”

  “Yes, doctor.” I grinned as she squinted at me.

  She was right about that and I knew it.

  Dinner consisted of a big salad with a wonderful variety of greens, dotted with spicy chunks of tofu. More of that stuff. I’d never found anything appealing about it, but had to admit that the chefs here knew what they were doing. Everything was delicious. Dessert this time was a warm fruit cobbler with a crispy topping. I couldn’t spot any tofu in it, but you never knew.

  After dinner, Celeus Light gave an inspirational talk in the courtyard. Everyone bundled up in sweaters and sat on cushions around the glow of an
open fire pit. Beyond the plantings of bright chrysanthemums and the low adobe wall, everything was velvet black. Light’s talk was about letting go of anger and stress in our lives. His charismatic voice flowed in soothing tones, softly coaxing us to shed negative feelings, switching them for an attitude of joy. He glided among the participants, his flowing long jacket brushing at shoulders as he passed through the group.

  I sat cross-legged on my cushion, as did everyone, with my hands lying in my lap. With my head slightly bowed and eyes nearly closed I checked out the rest of the group. Once again, Gerald Mayhew didn’t seem to be taking the class very seriously. He clearly was here at Nicole’s wishes, although I couldn’t help but remember her comment in the hallway, about his health being their reason for attending. Rex Storm, surprisingly, was very much getting into the mood, eyes tightly closed, body swaying slightly as Light talked. Trudie, his forty-something groupie, sat close and timed the swaying of her own body so that she could occasionally bump shoulders with Rex.

  Pat and her two doctor friends formed a tight little group on the opposite side of the fire pit. They were all clearly enthralled with Dr. Light. Dina listened closely, but kept her eyes open and hadn’t yet fallen under the power of the swaying bodies around her.

  Light was in his element. Clearly, as I listened to his cadence I could tell that he picked up the mood of the audience and fed back from it. The longer the talk went on, the more they swayed. The more they swayed, the richer his voice became. I felt myself being pulled in, yet I held back. There was just something too cult-like about it.

  I glanced over at Linda. Her eyes were closed but she must have sensed my gaze. She peeked at me and puckered the dimple at the side of her mouth. Well, at least she wasn’t lost completely in the trance.

  Wednesday morning dawned clear and chilly, with that special brightness that New Mexico autumn mornings have. I groaned and looked at the bedside clock. Six. The sun had not cleared the mountains yet, but I needed to move.

  “I think I’d like a walk before starting the day’s festivities,” I said to Linda, who yawned widely and groaned. “Want to come?”

  “Yeah, I’ll make myself get moving.”

  We dressed in jeans and sweaters and put on our walking shoes. The chill morning called for jackets, so we grabbed them and headed out.

  “I’ve wanted to explore the grounds ever since we got here,” she said, once she’d stretched her muscles a little. “Gotta balance classroom time with some physical activity.”

  We headed down the long driveway, planning to turn around once we got to the main road, then walk along the hillside past the parking area and back up to the dining room in time to catch some breakfast. The morning air felt crisp, the air tinged with the scent of wood smoke and chrysanthemums, reminding me that my birthday was coming up in a little over a month. Those autumn smells always bring back the reminder that the final family cookout each year was usually my birthday lunch, a picnic with a bunch of friends. This year, Drake and I had the added bonus of our planned trip to Kauai in November. Despite his misgivings about the deposition, it was probably a good thing that they’d moved the date up. He could be done with it and enjoy the vacation.

  Linda and I conversed little at first, using the brisk pace and high altitude to wake ourselves up and get the blood flowing. When she asked about Drake I admitted that the camaraderie between my husband and brother had seen better times.

  “I’m meeting Drake in Santa Fe this afternoon, maybe grab a late lunch, talk things out.”

  “Well, watch out that you don’t get caught up in their whole conflict, yourself.”

  “Hey, I’m not feeling at all angry toward either of them. I’ve let go of my negative emotions, just as Dr. Light suggested.” I negotiated around a pothole in the road. “Just don’t ask me about it next week. My positive outlook may be a bit strained by then.”

  We passed by the portico and circled to the left, beside the spa building, then cut through the parking lot. At the edge of the hill we picked up a walkway that would lead us through the rear courtyard and back to the guestroom wing. About the time the tip of my nose felt like it would freeze, we got there.

  “Do you know that guy?” Linda asked.

  I looked up to see a dark-haired man staring into one of the rooms, hands cupped around his face at the window. He turned and gave us a quick stare. I didn’t recognize the slender form, dressed in khaki slacks and dark blue bomber jacket, or the stern facial features under black brows. When he noticed that we’d stopped walking, he jammed his hands into his pockets and quickly followed the sidewalk toward the lobby entrance.

  “Odd, don’t you think?” I said

  “He’s not one of our group. Could be another guest, though.”

  “Staring into someone’s window?”

  “Not very logical, that’s for sure,” Linda said.

  We watched as he entered the lobby and disappeared from sight. I noted the window he’d been peeking into, wondering who he’d been spying on. Entering our hall through a side door, I counted rooms. We’d caught him at the window of Room 14, right next to ours.

  As soon as Linda had unlocked our door, I strode to the telephone and called the front desk.

  “There’s a man who just entered the lobby a minute ago,” I said. “Has dark hair and he’s wearing khakis and a dark blue jacket.”

  “Um, I don’t see him, ma’am. Shall I page him?”

  “No. I just caught him peeping into the windows of Room 14. Is there security here at the hotel?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. Of course they can’t be everywhere at once, but I’ll . . .”

  “Yes, get the word out. He’s probably leaving the grounds by now, but have them watch for him. Who’s registered in Room 14?”

  “Well, I can’t divulge that information, ma’am, but I will let the guest know about this.”

  It was the most I could hope for. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t use my own resourcefulness. I went back out into the hall and knocked on the door of Room 14. Shuffling noises came from within the room and an unsteady hand fiddled with the door knob. When the door opened, I found myself facing Trudie Blanchard.

  Chapter 10

  Trudie was fully dressed, although her hair still held the tangles of sleep and her face seemed thinner, with puffy bags under her eyes. Her restless eyes darted back and forth, not staying on my face for more than a second or two.

  “Did you just see a man peeking in your windows?” I asked.

  “Uh, no,” she murmured. “I just got up.” She rubbed her hands together and tucked them against her ribs, under crossed arms.

  I quickly explained what Linda and I had seen and gave her a description of the man. Her eye movements quickened.

  “The front desk should be calling. I asked them to. But I thought I’d tell you myself.” In answer, the phone rang at that moment. She jumped. “There you go,” I said.

  I turned and heard her close the door behind me. Trudie was a hard one to figure out, but I’d done my part to warn her. I went back to our room, where Linda was fluffing her hair in the mirror. I gathered my yoga clothes and other items for the morning classes. We headed for breakfast a few minutes later. I noticed that Trudie didn’t show up.

  The yoga room felt chilly. Most everyone was moving around to warm up. Gerald Mayhew finally decided that was ridiculous and he turned up the thermostat. Trudie wandered in, looked around—I guessed she was hoping Rex Storm would be there—then parked her mat next to mine. Following the others’ example, I stood and stretched a bit. After twenty minutes of this we all began to wonder where Rita was. She’d been late the first morning, but this was pushing it. I looked around and sensed the indecision in the rest of the group.

  “Well, we could all go out for a nice strong cup of coffee,” I said.

  “No,” said Dina, “we should be to sticking with our program.”

  Heads nodded, some reluctantly.

  “If everyone does not mind . . . I ha
ve taken many yoga classes. I can perhaps show?”

  “Great idea,” Nicole chimed in. “Dina, you know the postures really well. Why don’t you lead the class?”

  “Yeah. You’re a whole lot nicer than the grump,” Gerald said. Nicole shot him a look.

  “I can lead until she comes,” Dina offered, looking around the group.

  Everyone agreed enthusiastically and took their positions on the mats. Within minutes, Dina moved us into the first pose and explained the purpose of the mind/body connection in yoga. This was something Rita hadn’t talked about and I found myself really feeling that I was getting something from the exercise. I began to agree with Gerald. The class was much more productive without Rita at the helm. I wondered if we could convince the directors to dump Rita and keep Dina for the rest of the week.

  As we ended the class with savasana, I felt the rejuvenating energy flow through me. Finally, everyone began to quietly gather their things. I noticed that not one person had left during the class. Even Trudie seemed more centered, less jumpy than at any other time since I’d met her. I caught the eye of one of Shirley’s assistants and gave her a thumbs up. She let me know with a nod and a smile that the word would get to the right people.

  I wandered through the lobby on my way back to the room to change clothes again. At the front desk, complete with entourage, stood Rex Storm. Surrounded by about two dozen pieces of luggage, undoubtedly all filled with black clothes, he was in the process of gushing to Shirley about how sorry he was to cut the visit short. Prior commitments, and all that. So much for detoxifying. In three days? I aimed a little wave in his direction and headed down the hall.

  When I entered the classroom for the morning’s nutrition discussion, I noticed a smaller than usual crowd. I helped myself to a cup of tea at the back of the room. Shirley came in and set a plate of cookies near the tea setup.