Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9) (3 page)

BOOK: Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9)
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Chapter 4
 

“Welcome to Torsten Resort.”

Lacy expected the man who greeted
them to have a German accent, like the storeowner from
Frozen. Woo-hoo, big summer blowout.
He didn’t, though. Despite his
blond hair, blue eyes, and obviously Nordic features, he spoke softly and
distinctly, as if to convey the image of wealthy refinement.

“We have a reservation under the
name…”

“Lacy? Lacy Steele?”

Lacy turned toward the sound of her
name and saw a man heading toward her, arms outstretched for a hug. She took a
step back and bumped into Jason, and then recognition hit. “Snaps? Is that
you?”

“It’s me,” he said. He reached her
and enveloped her in a bear hug, which she returned.

“I can’t believe this. What are you
doing here?”

“I’m here to lose the paunch,” he
said, patting his slightly protruding belly. “What about you? And don’t tell me
it’s to lose weight because I won’t believe it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” she said.

“Is this your husband?” His eyes
flicked to Jason.

“Boyfriend. Jason Cantor, this is
Snaps McKenzie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Snaps said. He
and Jason shook hands before he turned his attention back to Lacy. “I can’t
believe this, running into Lacy Steele after all this time. I have to
go—I have a scheduled appointment to keep. But I would love to get
together with you later and catch up. Maybe we could perform some of the old
numbers.”

“That sounds fun,” Lacy agreed. She
gave him a little wave as he walked away.

“Who was that?” Jason asked.

“That was Snaps,” Michael said.
“Obviously.”

“He was a friend from show choir. I
saw him at every event for years and then our senior year we ended up on the
district team together and became friends,” Lacy said.

“Is he good at snapping?” Jason
asked.

“I have no idea,” Lacy said. “Why?”

“I’m undoubtedly going to regret
continuing this line of questioning, but why is he called ‘Snaps’?”

“He had scoliosis. His back brace
made a snapping noise whenever he walked,” Lacy said.

“What an emotionally crippling
nickname,” Michael said.

“High school was full of them,”
Lacy said. She turned back to the reservation counter. “We have a reservation.
The name is…”

“Forget it,” Riley interrupted. She
ambled up to them, baby Lucy tucked into the cloth carrier on her front. “It
turns out that Tosh’s psychotic sisters decided to take their revenge on me by
booking us all into two rooms.”

“Two rooms?” Lacy repeated.

“That’s right. We four women in
one, the four men in the other. Apparently they’re so possessive of Tosh that
they wanted to make sure I couldn’t be in the same room with him for a couple
of days, despite the fact that we have a new baby and DESPITE THE FACT THAT
HE’S MY HUSBAND!” She turned to yell over her shoulder to no one in particular.
The only people Lacy saw were employees of the resort who looked panicked, as
if they had never heard a woman raise her voice above a genteel whisper before.

“Okay,” Lacy drawled. She needed to
decelerate Riley’s anger before she took off the baby and went hand-to-hand
with one of Tosh’s sisters. “Where do we bunk, roomie?”

“The staff will get your bags.” She
flicked her fingers toward the eager-looking bellhops standing by the entrance.
“Come and meet Sven.”

“Sven?” Lacy said.

“Sven,” Riley repeated.

“I guess I’m going to go meet
Sven,” Lacy said to Jason.

“Have fun?” he said.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” she
said.

“Okay, lovebirds, say goodbye
before I throw up in my mouth,” Riley said.

“So, how’s that sleep deprivation
coming? Is it having any negative effects? On your mood, perhaps?” Lacy said as
she trotted dutifully behind her sister who could walk alarmingly fast for
someone who had delivered a baby only a few weeks ago.

“Sleep deprivation isn’t what’s
altering my mood. It’s
them.

“How many of them showed up?” Tosh
had about a million sisters and brothers.

“Three, but one would have been too
many,” Riley said. “In here.” She opened a door and ushered Lacy inside. Her
mother, Kimber, and Tosh’s sisters were already there. They stood worshipfully
around a man, or at least Lacy thought he was a man. He might have been a
statue, so perfect was his physique. He was tall, six feet at least, and so
impeccably muscled that Lacy reached out to poke his bicep to make sure it
hadn’t been chiseled out of granite.

“Imprethive, ithn’t it?” he said.

Lacy blinked at him.

“You could have muthles like thith,
too, if you follow my advithe.”

“Um…,” Lacy said. It wasn’t that
the lisp bothered her so much as the incongruity of a speech impediment emerging
from such perfection. Casting about for something to say, “Is Sven your real
name?” was all she could come up with.

He laughed. “No, they make uth take
Thwith-thounding nameth. They wanted me to be Thor, but I chothe Thven.”

“Really? On purpose?” Lacy said and
Kimber elbowed her in the ribs.

“Okay, ladieth, I want to know who
ith ready to get thkinny,” Sven said. Lacy raised her hand. She was the only
one.

“I’m here for the massages,” Kimber
said.

“I want a mud bath,” Frannie said.

“I want to sleep,” Riley said.

“We’re here to ski,” one of Tosh’s
sisters said.

“You’re dithmithed, have a
wonderful vithit at Torthten Rethort,” Sven said before focusing his crystal
blue eyes exclusively on Lacy. “Lookth like it’th jutht you and me. What’th
your name, thweetheart?”

“Joan,” Lacy said. She hadn’t meant
to lie, but she couldn’t hear him call her “Lathy” all weekend and keep a
straight face, she just couldn’t.

“All right, Joan, begin with
thith.” He handed her a large glass of dark green liquid. Where had it come
from? Had he been holding it the whole time? The lack of answers made the
potion seem more magical.

“What is it?” Lacy asked in an awed
whisper. She took a sniff, but it didn’t smell like anything.

“I will anthwer thith quethtion and
then no otherth: thith ith juithe. It will invigorate and detoxth you. And from
now on, you will trutht my judgment completely. Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal, Sven,” Lacy said
and downed the juice. It was bad, but she’d had worse. In her current
self-flagellating mood, the green goo rather cheered her. At least she was
being proactive in her move to get her body back under control.

“Let’th get thtarted with our
extherthithe.”

“Now?”

“Now, and don’t complain. You could
have it worthe—you could have Jill.”

“Who is Jill?” Lacy asked.

“You’ll thee,” Sven said, his tone
sounding ominous.

A half hour later, Lacy knew who
Jill was. She was Snap’s trainer, unfortunately for him. While Sven liked to
pretend he was a mystic who had somehow conjured the secrets to a smoking hot
body, Jill took the drill sergeant approach. She yelled at Snaps who proved
that he had grown in the years since high school. There had been a time many
years ago when one negative word from his choir teacher had sent Snaps into a
torrent of tears. Lacy could remember distinctly the time he missed a note and
ran off stage—his scoliosis brace snapping in time to his sobs. And now,
while being called a pathetic slob by an attractive fitness instructor, he
maintained his smile and even managed a cheery wave at Lacy.

“You know him?” Sven asked.

“An old pal from high school,” Lacy
said.

“What’th hith name?”

“Tim,” Lacy lied. She couldn’t hear
him called, “Thnapth,” not when she was trying to lift half her weight in
kettlebells. Besides, for all she knew Snap’s real name might be Tim. No one
had ever taken the time to find out.

“Feel the bad vibeth thlipping away
ath you exthale,” Sven whispered as Lacy did rep after rep. She was going to
giggle, and then she would drop the weight on her foot and crush it. She tuned
Sven out and focused on Jill.

“Come on you roly-poly mealworm.
Pedal, pedal, pedal. Pretend there’s a doughnut at the end of this ride. Do it,
do it, do it,” she shouted to poor Snaps who was already pedaling at such a
furious pace he was wheezing. He had asthma, Lacy remembered. She hoped he was
carrying his inhaler. With the way Jill was working him, he was going to need
it.

“Time for thquaths,” Sven said,
interrupting her reverie. These he did with her, only he felt compelled to yell
the word, “THQUAT!” every time they reached the crouching position until Lacy
thought she might explode if she didn’t find an outlet for her suppressed
snickers.

She put up her hand. “Can I have a
bathroom break, please?”

“Ath long ath you thwear you’re not
going to thtuff your fathe with thomething,” Sven said.

“No way,” Lacy said. The words “I
thwear” had almost popped out. She would have to be extremely careful about
what she said in case she accidentally adapted his manner of speech. He would
never believe she wasn’t making fun of him. Worse, she couldn’t be sure she
wasn’t. It was better to avoid saying anything with S’s for the duration of her
time with him.

“Be fatht,” he said.

“Quick,” she promised and dashed
out of the room. She rounded the corner and ran headlong into Jason, Michael,
Tosh, and her father. Her dad was holding a basketball. She collapsed against
Jason, so thankful to be able to laugh freely that she began to giggle
maniacally.

Jason shook her gently. “How many
of those seaweed blobs have you eaten?” he asked.

“It’s not that, it’s my trainer.
He’s….I can’t even…”

“So, you’re actually laughing. This
isn’t the mental breakdown it appears to be,” Michael said.

Lacy nodded and wiped her eyes.
“I’ll fill you in later. I have to get back. I promised to be fatht.”

Jason caught her hand before she
could dart away. “Hey, apparently they have an awesome restaurant here. Want to
have dinner? With just me, the two of us, no one else?”

“It feels as though he’s trying to
tell us something, but the subtlety is lost on me,” Michael said.

“That sounds awesome. I can’t
wait,” Lacy said. She gave him a peck on the cheek and ran back to Sven in time
for him to hand her another green drink. She was about to ask him if she had to
drink it even though she wasn’t hungry. One of his eyebrows quirked, reminding
her she had promised to trust him. She downed the icky drink in four gulps and
they continued their training.

An hour later, he handed her over
to Uma. Lacy was fairly certain that was an assumed Swiss-sounding name because
Uma was black. “We’re here to help you on your detox journey,” Uma said.

“I’ll thee you later,” Sven said.
“Follow the thcript I gave you, Joan.”

Lacy promised him she would be good
and stick with his program.

“First, we’re going to scrub you,”
Uma said.

Lacy didn’t like the “we” part of
that sentence. She imagined a pit crew of people sponging her unmentionables.
But it turned out that Uma was the type of person who said, “we” for
everything, like the queen. She handed Lacy a tub of sea salt scrub, told her
to slather her body, and then instructed her to soak on one of the large tubs.

“We have this water dehydrogenated
for our guests,” Uma said.

“So, it’s just oxygen?” Lacy said,
but Uma ignored her. When Uma left, Lacy dutifully slathered the salt all over
her body and slipped into the tub. Whether it was because of the
“dehydrogenation” or because it was warm and soothing, Lacy found the bath to
be extremely enjoyable. She could have stayed in there all day except for the
fact that Sven poked his head in.

“Thweat out thothe toxthinth,
Joan,” he said. He gave her the thumb’s up and disappeared before Lacy could do
more than put a hand over her stomach. Why her first instinct was to cover that
spot when so much more of her was exposed she had no idea. At first she was
incensed at the invasion of privacy, but when she studied the tub, she realized
it was too deep and too angled away from the door for Sven to have seen
anything.

Uma returned a short while later
with another green drink. “Compliments of Sven.” Lacy, who was thirsty after
her long bath, downed the juice without question. Maybe it was her imagination,
but the drinks were beginning to taste kind of good.

“Next we’re going to do a wrap,”
Uma said.

“You can beat box?” Lacy said.

“A
seaweed
wrap,” Uma clarified.

“Oh,” Lacy said. And, with no way
to recover after that, she lay quietly while Uma wrapped her in a seaweed
concoction. It occurred to her how many ways she was coming in contact with
seaweed this weekend, first in her snack wads, then through the bath. She was
also fairly certain there must be some in the putridly green drink.

“If seaweed is so good for you,
whales and dolphins must never get sick. It’s a wonder they don’t live
forever,” she mused.

Uma didn’t reply.

After the wrap was finished, Uma
sat Lacy down for a little talk. Lacy thought for sure she was going to
question her mental wellbeing, but she didn’t. Instead she wanted to talk about
cosmetics.

“Your deodorant is killing you,”
Uma announced in the same voice she might have said, “The sky is cloudy.”

“I did catch it holding a knife the
other day,” Lacy said, but Uma’s expression remained unchanged. Lacy tried
again. “How so, Uma?”

“By altering your body’s natural
chemistry, by denying beneficial bacteria.” She reached into a drawer and
pulled out a pink rock. “Do you know what this is?”

“The Dark Crystal?” Lacy guessed.

“It’s salt, and it’s Mother
Nature’s deodorant.”

“I didn’t know Mother Nature had
B.O.,” Lacy said and immediately began to wonder how much longer it would be
before Uma punched her in the face. Judging by her placid expression, she had
awhile to go.

BOOK: Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9)
8.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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