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Authors: Kate White

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BOOK: A Body to Die For
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It
is
my concern, was all I could think as he left the room. I could still feel Anna’s cool lips on mine. She was a total stranger
to me, yet there’d been a moment in which I’d thought I could save her life. Now I was overwhelmed with a need to know how
she’d died—and who had killed her.

I walked next door to find Danny curled on the love seat, asleep, a frown on her face. I flashed back suddenly to a moment
the two of us had shared years ago. She had taken me to get my first manicure and pedicure. I was only twelve, and the pedicure
had tickled so much that I’d kept balling my foot up reflexively. Danny had nearly doubled over in laughter. It seemed strange
to have the roles reversed, to feel the need to comfort
her.

I gently jostled her shoulder and called her name a few times. As she woke, focusing on my face, she moaned softly.

“I thought for a moment that it was just a nightmare,” she said. “But it’s not, is it?”

“No, it’s not. The detective’s gone now, Danny. We can go to our rooms.”

“All right. Though I can’t imagine how I’ll ever fall back to sleep.”

“Would you like to talk for a while? I know I’ll never get back to sleep, either.”

“Yes, I’d like that, actually. I’ve got so many questions. Why don’t we go into the lounge.”

She stood up from the couch, still in her jacket and PJs, and led me down the corridor to the lobby. The inn was absolutely
silent.

“Did any guests come down tonight?” I asked.

“A few did. They could see the madhouse from their windows, and they seemed totally distressed. I know this sounds so selfish
of me to say with someone lying dead on the premises. But I keep thinking about the inn. I’ve worked so hard the last few
years. And now it’s in danger of being ruined.”

“That’s not true. You’ll get through this—and the inn will survive.”

“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I don’t see how we can survive now. This isn’t the first death we’ve had here.”

CHAPTER 4

I
CAUGHT MY
breath. “What?” I exclaimed. “Who? When?”

“Let’s not talk about it here,” Danny said softly. “I don’t want anyone to hear me.”

She led me out into the lobby and across to the lounge on the far side. The front door of the inn was partially open, and
I caught a glimpse of two cops standing on the front step talking, their faces illuminated by the lantern lights on the front
of the inn. Once Danny and I were inside the lounge, she slid the wooden pocket doors partially closed. She lit two table
lamps and used a remote control to ignite the gas flame in the fireplace.

“Okay, so tell me about this other death,” I urged as we both sank into the sofa.

“It happened this past July,” she said, her voice laden with discouragement. “A man who’d come for a massage died of a heart
attack in the men’s locker room.”

“Was there something suspicious about his death?”

“No, no. I didn’t mean to imply that,” she said. “He was in his late sixties, and the autopsy showed that he had a weak heart
valve, one of those things that had never been diagnosed. But to have two deaths here… The next thing you know, people will
be saying the inn is
cursed.

“Did the police get involved?”

“Yes, actually Detective Beck. The man who died—William Litchauer—was fairly prominent, and his wife and son were all up in
arms. They threatened to sue, but there were absolutely no grounds. Everyone who has a treatment here signs a waiver that
stipulates we aren’t liable in these matters—unless of course there’s negligence on our part. And the police found nothing.”

“What’s your impression of this Beck guy?” I asked. My voice sounded oddly bright as I spoke.

“He can be brusque, but he was also very thorough. He interviewed a number of people at the spa and seemed to give the case
his full attention.”

“On the surface, the two cases certainly don’t
sound
connected,” I said. “We’re not even sure whose body was lying there tonight.”

“I’m almost positive it’s Anna,” she said mournfully. “Detective Beck asked me for her emergency contact number because they
found her purse in the employee locker room—and besides, there’s no sign of her in her room.”

“You said earlier that Anna had a nine o’clock appointment. Was she in charge of locking up the spa tonight?”

“Yes. Josh, the manager, usually leaves about six, and either Piper or Anna closes up. This was supposed to be Piper’s night,
but Anna apparently switched with her earlier in the week.”

“Have you called Josh?”

“No, I couldn’t with that policeman sitting there. I’ll try him first thing in the morning. He’s going to be as devastated
by this as I am.”

“I wonder if he’ll have any ideas on who might have done it.”

“Are you thinking it might be someone who works at the
spa?
” she asked, clearly distressed.

“I feel it’s got to be someone who either works at the spa or is
familiar
with it. Like someone in Anna’s personal life—or even a client. Because how else would the person have known about the Mylar
paper?”

Danny pressed her hands tightly to her face, her eyes closed. When she opened them, she looked at me pleadingly.

“Bailey, you’ve got to help me. Please.”

“Of course I will, Danny. You know you can lean on me.”

“No, I mean you have to help figure out who did this. Your mother told me how you solved that murder last spring—of your boss’s
nanny. If the police don’t find Anna’s killer, it will hang like a pall over the inn and the spa.”

She was right, of course. If the murderer wasn’t apprehended quickly, the spa’s business could suffer. One death was bad enough,
but now there were two. And though one had been an accident and the other a homicide, people would connect them in their minds,
assuming that there really
was
something cursed about the inn and the spa—kind of The Golden Door meets
The Shining.
My mother’s final onshore request suddenly rang in my ears over the sound of the crackling gas fire: “Keep an eye on Danny.
I’m worried about her.”

“I’ll do whatever I can, Danny,” I said.

“Oh, Bailey, thank you,” she said, squeezing my arm.

“Look, I’m not sure how much I can accomplish between now and Monday, but since I’m staying right here in the inn, I may be
able to learn a few things. People might be more comfortable talking to me than to the cops. We just have to be careful not
to interfere with their investigation. And I wouldn’t let this Beck guy know I’m asking questions. Trust me, he’ll be less
than thrilled.”

“Fine. And since I’d planned for you to talk to Josh, why don’t we just proceed with that. I’ll tell him that we’re going
ahead since you’ve made the trip.”

“Good idea. Now tell me about security at the spa. What’s the general procedure when it comes to locking up?”

“The back door of the spa is
always
locked—or at least it’s supposed to be,” she explained. “The front door is locked after the last local guest arrives, and
the door that goes directly to the inn gets locked last, usually after the last inn guest arrives.”

“Who has keys?”

“I have a set, and so does George. Josh. Piper and Anna, since they’re assistant managers. And the manager of the inn has
one—he’s out of town this weekend for a wedding, by the way.”

I stood up from the couch and walked the short distance toward the fireplace. I wanted to feel the warmth of it on my body,
but the gas flame gave off so little heat, it was like holding a votive candle to my butt.

“Of course, the killer didn’t necessarily have a key,” I said. “Anna could have let him in after all the guests had gone.
What do you know about her as a person?”

It turned out not to be a great deal. Anna, Danny reported, had been in her late thirties, attractive, single, and extremely
aloof. Like Piper, she lived on-site. She had moved here a year ago from Manhattan, where she’d done her massage training,
and prior to that she had lived all over. Her file had listed one emergency contact: a sister in Florida.

While I waited, Danny went back to her office and returned with a group shot that included Anna. She was not only attractive,
but there was something tantalizingly sexy about her. Dark eyes and dark hair—worn short and provocatively shaggy—and she
stared at the camera as if she had decided to seduce the person taking the picture. She was about five four or five five,
I guessed, from eyeballing the various people in the picture. Her body was curvy and sensuous. A killer body, I thought as
I stared at her image, and then groaned to myself over the words I’d chosen.

“Did she have a boyfriend?”

“A while back something was apparently going on with her and Eric, the therapist, but it supposedly fizzled. He’s second-generation
Indian and fairly quiet. It’s hard to imagine him holding his own against Anna.”

“Oh boy, the police are going to focus on him big-time since he was there on duty with her tonight. Anyone new on the scene?”

“We got a new tennis pro this past summer and lately I’ve noticed him buzzing around her a bit, but I have no idea if there
was anything going on between them. You know me, I like to reach out to people, but Anna was not receptive to that. She liked
to keep to herself.”

I asked if that was fairly typical of women in her line of work, and Danny explained that in her experience, massage attracted
several different kinds of women. There were the earth mothers, for whom massage was just another way to connect with people.
There were what she called the yoga types, free spirits who were into taking care of their bodies and couldn’t bear to set
foot in an office or be pinned down in any way. And there were the odd birds, women searching for something, anything, to
make them happy. Anna, she felt, had been sort of a combination of the last two.

“How did she get along with the people she worked with at the spa?”

“I know most people found her distant, too. She made one friend when she first came here, but that woman moved last winter—she
left the field entirely. There was—No, that’s meaningless.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, it’s just there was a little rivalry among the female therapists over the number of clients they each had. Anna—and
Piper, too—got more repeat business than the other girls, and there was some resentment, especially about Anna, because she’d
been here for just a year. It’s partly because of all her business that Josh made her an assistant manager after just nine
months.”

“Anyone more resentful than others?”

“Cordelia,” she said after a pause. “She’s one of the girls who’s been with me the longest, and she’s very, very good. She’s
an earth mother type, strong as an ox. But, you know, it’s not always strength that matters. Sometimes a therapist has something
else—a hypnotic technique, for instance—that people love even more than powerful hands. I suspect too that Cordelia may be
a bit chatty, and most people can’t bear that.”

As I listened to her, I saw that she looked exhausted, even tinier than usual, and it was clear she needed sleep. I suggested
that we turn in and talk again first thing in the morning. She agreed, suddenly seeming distracted.

“Danny, what is it?” I asked. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

She looked at me, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yes and no,” she said finally. “Something
is
bothering me, but the reason I’m not telling you is that I don’t know what it is. For the past few months, I’ve felt as if
something odd is going on at the spa. I’ve tried to spend more time over there, but I haven’t come up with anything concrete.”

Ah, so this was what my mother had tuned into when she’d sensed distress on Danny’s part.

“Can you be more specific?” I asked.

“Mainly it’s this vibe I started picking up. From Josh, but also from a few of the others, including Piper and Anna and this
other girl Lauren, though she moved to Hawaii in August. I’ve caught them shooting glances at each other when I’m over there,
as if they had some secret they’re keeping. If I offer to help in any way, they discourage me from staying.”

“Did you mention this to the police?”

“No, because what could I
say
—that I had a bad feeling?”

“How’s the spa business?”

“It’s excellent. And that’s why I haven’t said anything to Josh about this. He’s been here just two years, and he’s made the
spa a huge success, especially this past year since we redid some of the interiors. So there’s no question of them slacking
off or not doing their work correctly. Josh is very prickly, and I’m afraid he’ll be furious if I accuse him of something
so vague.”

“I wonder if they’re skimming money? Do you review the bills and paperwork?”

She said she did, but not nearly as closely as she should. I told her that one of the first things I’d do tomorrow was take
a look at the financial records and see if anything odd popped out. It would give me something concrete I could attack immediately.

“When does George get back, by the way?” I asked as she switched off lights.

BOOK: A Body to Die For
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