by Gemma Bruce
Andy wasn’t smiling. Don’t trust him.
“I think the police were overwhelmed last night,” said Loubelle, keeping the conversation away from the indelicate topic of autopsies, like the well-trained southern matron she was. “The way they stood around gaping at us as if we were engaged in a wild Roman orgy.”
“Well, you have to admit,” said Evelyn. “They come speeding in, sirens whirring, and jump out of the cars to find nearly a hundred people dressed in togas and tunics, all of us showing more skin than we’d dare show to anyone we know. Wine and food piled on the buffet tables. A roasting pig. Torches. It’s amazing their eyes didn’t pop out of their heads.”
“Or arrest us for indecent exposure,” said Loubelle, her eyes growing large at the thought.
“They were downright rude,” said Jeannie. “And the way that sergeant, or whatever he was, looked at me. I had to hold my hands together not to wipe that smirk off his face.”
Everyone relaxed. Jeannie in a pissy mood was much better than the sad, lost woman of a few minutes ago.
Jeannie sniffed. “And the things he said to me. Me, Jeannie Jenkins. If I’d been his mama, I would’ve washed his mouth out with soap.” She frowned. “Not that I’m old enough to be his mama.”
Almost old enough to be his grandmama, thought Andy, but she kept it to herself.
When the breakfast hour was over, they all adjourned to the auditorium where Dr. Bliss was going to address the entire retreat. Something inspiring no doubt. Though Andy wondered how she was going to manage to turn Demetri’s demise into a growth experience.
As they left the room, Andy caught a glimpse of Dillon carrying empty coffeepots into the kitchen.
Don’t trust him.
Shut up, she told herself. Why shouldn’t she trust him? She wanted to trust him. She did trust him. She had damn good instincts, and her instincts were saying, He’s all right.
Andy wasn’t even sure she’d heard Katherine correctly. Maybe what she thought she heard was her own fears. The thought could be coming from her own mind. That sometimes happened in meditation. Stuff came from nowhere and blindsided you.
Maybe he was a killer. Maybe he was using her. She might be a tad too close to him to be objective. The only way to remedy that was to keep her distance, so she could think rationally. So she’d better stay away from him.
No, called a distant voice, a voice that she knew well. Her optimistic voice, her hedonistic voice. The voice that always got her into trouble.
She wouldn’t listen to it, either. She had to be careful. She needed a clear mind, free of Dillon thoughts. Depend on no one, trust no one but herself.
“Ariadne, is something wrong?” asked Evelyn. “You’re frowning.”
“No. Nothing’s wrong.” Except that her whole world had just gone haywire, and she didn’t know how to make it right again.
Chapter 22
Dr. Bliss stood at the podium and looked over the goddesses seated before her. She was alone on the stage, looking larger than life, suitably serious. As always, she was perfectly controlled, open but not too open, compassionate, but not gushing. Andy wondered if she ever got a run in her panty hose, or left lipstick on a wineglass. She couldn’t imagine her writhing out of control under Bernard Bliss’s eternal ministrations.
Andy shoved that thought away. Not only was it inappropriate considering the moment, but it was something too icky to contemplate. High priestesses were meant to be worshipped; not in the same league with the rest of them. Fiona Bliss was the perfect high priestess. But was she happy?
Jane and Carmen hovered at the edge of the stage, like two dogs waiting for a dropped morsel. They couldn’t stand each other, but they would do anything for their leader. Would that include murder? Andy tried to remember seeing them at the bacchanalia the night before, but only came up with the image of them crying in each other’s arms after Demetri’s body was discovered. Where had they been before that?
And why did Andy care? She didn’t even like Demetri. And even though it was a sad thing to happen, she had other, more pressing problems to deal with.
Dr. Bliss began speaking, and Andy forced her attention back to what she was saying. Something about how tragedy, as hard to accept as it was, could lead to a growth experience.
Yeah, right, thought Andy. But not for Demetri. She could hear sniffling a few chairs away. She glanced past Evelyn to where Jeannie was sitting. Jeannie was crying, but so was the woman next to her. And the woman next to her. Everywhere women had pulled out Kleenexes and were dabbing their eyes.
Andy wondered at her own lack of emotion. Normally she was the first one to start bawling. Anything could set it off. A sad movie. A Hallmark card. A Kodak commercial. A song on the radio. What was wrong with her? She didn’t feel a thing. She stifled a yawn. Her head drooped; she jerked up.
Evelyn frowned at her.
Jeez. She felt as if she’d downed a couple of Valium. Now, there was a thought. What if Demetri hadn’t been drunk or taking drugs? What if someone had drugged him, waited for it to take affect, and then pushed his head under? There would be toxicology reports. The drug would be traced back to the killer.
Or maybe the man just had a weak heart and really bad timing.
“And so as we go through today and the next few days, let’s keep Demetri in our hearts. Be open to life in a way we might not have been open to it before. Appreciate the time we have here on earth. Be kind to one another.”
Well, if goddess training ever fell off, Fiona Bliss could become a televangelist.
She left the stage and Katherine Dane took her place. She didn’t try to out-compassion the doctor, just said very calmly, “I have a few announcements. Please listen carefully. The police have asked that we not use the pool area until they have finished their on-site investigation. During that time, lunch will be held solely in the dining room at one o’clock. The afternoon schedule will remain the same as posted.” She glanced at her watch. “The morning session will resume in fifteen minutes. Go in strength.”
Andy rolled her eyes. All they needed was to throw a little holy water over them and they would be absolved. She stood up. Loubelle and Evelyn were helping Jeannie out of her chair, and Andy felt a pang of real compassion. Without her sauciness, her makeup, and her big hair, Jeannie looked twenty years older. Andy hated seeing her this way. She was so much fun, so full of life. And Andy suspected she had been that way long before Dr. Bliss and her goddess program hit the airwaves.
She followed the three women into the hallway, where they stood while the other goddesses hurried toward their shortened workshops.
“Let’s stick together,” said Loubelle.
“I have to fix my face,” said Jeannie through her wad of tissues.
“We’ll all go,” said Evelyn and led them down the hall to the ladies’ room. Andy went, too. It was the least she could do for the women who had befriended her when they thought she was a lonely, unhappy spinster. They had been thrilled with her sudden transformation, chalked it up to goddess training and Dillon’s attentions.
So Andy stood while Jeannie ran water over her face, then rummaged in her purse for her mascara, her lipstick. They all left the ladies’ room together, just as a commotion rose from the hall. Naturally, they hurried to see what was going on.
Jane had Carmen by the hair. Carmen was scratching at Jane’s arms, trying to break free.
“You’re a traitor, Carmen Gutierrez.”
Carmen stamped on Jane’s foot and, when she recoiled, twisted away from her.
“You just keep your mouth shut,” said Jane, limping toward her and backing Carmen down the hall.
“I won’t. Something weird is happening here. I’m leaving.”
“Go ahead, you fair-weather friend. But don’t even think you can spread your venom about us.” Jane lunged at her.
Carmen jumped back. “You should be happy to see the back of me.” She laughed spitefully. “But you’ll probably have to get used to Penny Culpe
pper as Dr. B’s other right hand.”
Jane stopped. “Not her.”
Carmen nodded. “She’s just been waiting for one of us to give up or get the axe.”
“Never.”
“And she can have it, because it’s getting too dangerous around here.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re a gutless wonder. You don’t deserve to be a priestess.”
Carmen rounded on her so fast that Jane didn’t have a chance to retreat. Carmen’s fingers closed around her throat, Jane grabbed Carmen’s hair, and they went down, locked in a very ungoddesslike embrace.
“Oh, dear,” said Loubelle and jumped out of the way as they rolled past her.
Andy just watched. She hadn’t enjoyed anything so much in the entire week.
But they were about to be stopped. Running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. A minute later, Hans and JoJo pulled the women apart and held them until Dr. Bliss, who was following close behind them, arrived.
The two women stopped struggling, the fight confined to spiteful looks.
Dr. Bliss merely considered them for a moment, then said, “Jane, Carmen, I am very disappointed in your behavior. What kind of example does this set for the other goddesses?”
They both hung their heads.
“You are relieved of your classes for the rest of the day. You’ll spend that time in the Bower of Bliss while you reconcile your differences.”
The Bower of Bliss? Andy couldn’t imagine much of anything but death to the finish, coming out of such close proximity. A shiver ran up her spine as she remembered the few hours she’d spent there with Dillon. She didn’t think Carmen and Jane would get the same value out of their time there.
On a nod from Dr. Bliss, JoJo and Hans released the women, who mumbled apologies and scurried away. The last thing Andy heard before the entrance door closed behind them was Carmen saying, “This is all your fault.”
Dr. Bliss turned her serene countenance on the crowd that had gathered. “As you can see, there are always little setbacks in our quest for self-fulfillment. That’s to be expected and embraced as a sign of true growth. And you’ll see that when Carmen and Jane have had time to confront their differences, they will be stronger, more understanding women. Better able to deal with the way the world deals with them. Now hurry, or you’ll be late for this morning’s workshops.”
She smiled over them, then left, trailed by JoJo and Hans, two of the most mismatched handmaidens that Andy could imagine.
“Well,” said Evelyn, when the crowd had dispersed. “Always something new and interesting at Terra Bliss. Shall we decide on a workshop to attend?”
They chose Turning Jealousy To Juice. Seemed appropriate, thought Andy, trying not to make any guesses about what the juice might be. She followed the others inside.
The session was led by a priestess whom Andy had seen only from a distance. She was bubbling with enthusiasm. “For any of you that might have witnessed the little altercation between Jane and Carmen just a minute ago, you’ll soon understand why my workshop is so important for daily living.” She smiled at them, which was the goddess way, but instead of blissful she seemed downright gleeful. Maybe she was in line for a promotion.
“Even priestesses succumb to jealousy.” She had a tinkly little laugh that grated on Andy’s nerves. Just watching all this smiling made her jaw ache. She stifled a yawn. “But who of us hasn’t felt jealousy? We can all identify, can’t we?”
Nods around the room. It wouldn’t be long before everyone was jousting to get to tell about their jealousies.
“What’s important is to understand our jealousy and learn how to turn it around for our benefit. What are some of the things we envy most?”
There were a lot of them. Andy’s eyes grew heavy.
“How can we change that envy into a powerful goddess force?”
Hands went up.
Andy’s eyes closed.
———
Someone was shaking her. Andy’s eyes fluttered open. Evelyn stood over her, looking concerned.
“Is it over already?”
“Already. Come on. It’s time for lunch.”
Numbly, Andy began gathering up her things.
“Loubelle and Jeannie went ahead to snag our table,” she explained as they hurried out of the classroom. “The dining room will be packed today.”
Loubelle and Jeannie had managed to get their usual table. Andy dropped heavily into a chair. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Must be the fresh mountain air,” said Evelyn.
“Or long nights with a certain handsome slave.” Jeannie lifted her eyebrows. It wasn’t as good as usual, but it was progress.
“Maybe it’s all the meditation you’re doing,” said Loubelle. “Miranda took the same course last session, and she said it didn’t do anything but make her sleepy.”
Andy was suddenly wide awake. “Miranda?”
“You remember,” said Evelyn. “We were talking about her the first day at the pool. She left in the middle of the last session.”
“Oh, yes. I do remember,” said Andy.
Evelyn laughed. “Remember the night at the movies? What were we watching? A thriller of some kind. We were all biting our nails and sitting on the edge of our seats, and suddenly we hear this strange noise, but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. When the lights came on, there was Miranda, her head lolling back in the chair, snoring like there was no tomorrow.”
Like aunt, like niece, thought Andy. Though usually, stillness just didn’t run in the family.
“I miss her,” said Loubelle. “Though I’m glad I got her slave. Rusty’s a sweetie.”
“How long had M—your friend been doing meditation before she left?”
“Let’s see,” said Loubelle. “Evelyn, do you remember?”
“Not I. I was studying for the Initiate test. The first week or two went by in a blur.”
“A week,” said Jeannie. She’d been so quiet that Andy had forgotten she was there. “She said she was going to quit. It was cutting into her playtime.” She sniffed. “Now she’s gone, too.”
“Gone? How?” blurted Andy.
“I just mean . . . She’s not here. Demetri is dead. Everything is changing. Excuse me.” She pushed her chair away and hurried out of the room.
They were finishing lunch, when the police arrived in a motorcade of cars. Two stopped at the Pantheon, just below the dining room windows. Three others continued around the drive toward the Spa.
“I hope Jeannie’s back in her room and doesn’t have to witness this,” Evelyn said and got up. She and Loubelle hurried away.
Andy finished her lunch in solitude and pushed her chair back just as the black sedan came to a stop next to the two police cruisers. But when the back door opened, the police detective got out. That was odd. Where was the—The second door opened and a tall, sandy-haired man got out. Today he was wearing a light gray suit, but he was the same man from last night. They passed through the entrance columns and disappeared from view.
Andy hurried into the hallway to see if Dillon would meet them, but there was no Dillon and no man in a suit. JoJo was ushering the detective toward the stairs. “Dr. Bliss has offered you the use of her office. This way please.”
The detective nodded and followed him upstairs.
Maybe Dillon and the suit were outside. She started for the door, just as two regular policemen entered, escorting a frightened Jeannie between them. She saw Andy and cast a pleading look at her.
Andy stepped forward. “What’s going on?”
“Just some routine questions, ma’am,” said the shorter of the two and readjusted the clipboard that he held under his arm.
“Why me?” whimpered Jeannie.
“Like I said, ma’am. We’re just asking everybody to go over their statements from last night. Nothing to be upset about.”
“Ariadne?”
“Do you mind if I walk with her? She’s had a very r
ough time.”
The officer frowned. “You are?”
“Ariadne McAllister.”
He pulled out the clipboard and consulted it. “Might as well. You’re next.”
She waited in the hallway while Jeannie was inside. There was no place to sit, so she passed the time pacing up and down and pausing at the door to eavesdrop on the interview. Unfortunately, the door was thick, and she could hear only an occasional murmur.
After twenty minutes, the door opened and Jeannie stepped out. She was followed by the detective in charge. He motioned Andy inside, but instead of following her in, he closed the door behind her.
Andy whirled around. The suit was sitting in one of the wing chairs, legs crossed at the knee, one eyebrow raised.
He motioned to the couch, and she sat down, but not before she noticed him flick a look from her face to her toes. It appeared purely disinterested, but she knew that was deceiving. She bet he could judge someone in even less time than he’d used on her. At least she wasn’t wearing a toga, but she felt just as exposed.
“No cause for discomfort, Ms. McAllister.”
Andy realized she was sitting debutante-style on the edge of the couch. She pushed back onto the seat and tried to look relaxed. “And you are?”
His mouth quirked. “Grayson Talbot. If you’d please tell me what you were doing and what you saw and heard leading up to the time you found the deceased.”
“I—”
“Already told the police. Just humor me and tell it again.”
Yeah. She’d heard those lines plenty of times on the set of one movie or another, right before they hauled the perp off to jail. She knew the drill by heart. She’d waited on the set of Some Kind of Woman while the actress coolly answered the detective’s questions: the pursuer and the pursued confronting each other at last. She’d watched the actress glance past the de-tective’s shoulder, then leap across the room and hurl herself at the open window. They cut. Set up the next scene. Andy took the actress’s place, this time filmed from the back. She leapt across the room, sprang onto the windowsill, and jumped six feet down to an air mattress. Later, an exterior shot, with the camera below, Andy perched in a window, five floors up. Then “Action” and Andy jumped.
