Faux Pas

by Shannon Esposito

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  A Selection of Previous Titles by Shannon Esposito

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  A selection of previous titles by Shannon Esposito

  The Pet Psychic Mystery Series

  KARMA’S A BITCH

  LADY LUCK RUNS OUT

  SILENCE IS GOLDEN

  The Paws and Pose Mystery Series

  FAUX PAS *

  * available from Severn House

  FAUX PAS

  A Paws and Pose Mystery

  Shannon Esposito

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This first world edition published 2015

  in Great Britain and the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  19 Cedar Road, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM2 5DA.

  Trade paperback edition first published 2015 in Great

  Britain and the USA by SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD.

  eBook edition first published in 2015 by Severn House Digital

  an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Copyright © 2015 by Shannon Esposito.

  The right of Shannon Esposito to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Esposito, Shannon, author.

  Faux pas. – (A Paws and Pose mystery)

  1. Murder–Investigation–Fiction. 2. Yoga teachers–

  Fiction. 3. Pet grooming salons–Fiction. 4. Detective and

  mystery stories.

  I. Title II. Series

  813.6-dc23

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8539-5 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-642-8 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-699-1 (e-book)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk,

  Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  ONE

  Oh no … no, no, no! My heartbeat sped up as I lay stretched out in sphinx pose and watched my deceased, childhood dog saunter into my doga (doggie-yoga) studio. A low whimper came from Buddha, my seventy-pound bulldog mix, who had been demonstrating an excellent canine version of the pose next to me. He could see Angel, too. We both watched in fascination as Angel weaved her little, ghostly terrier self through the dozen human and dog clients in various states of the pose on their mats.

  This was not good. Not good at all. I was finally starting to feel like I had my life, my career – my insane mother – under control. Angel fancied herself my guardian angel, so her showing up today only meant one thing: a crap load of trouble was about to hit the fan in my world.

  As Angel came to sit on the other side of me, her soft spirit eyes shining, her tongue lolling in her signature happy-to-see-you smile, I glanced around at my clients to see if anyone else could see her. All humans and canines seemed oblivious to the new ghostly presence in the room. Only Buddha – now recovered from the surprise – eyed Angel with the uninterested gaze he doled out to most everyone. That’s what made him such a good assistant in my classes. Not much ruffled his feathers … or fur. Still, I found it curious he could also see my little childhood BFF. Was it because of his connection to me? I shook myself free of that tangled web of thoughts. Those kinds of questions only led to more questions, not answers.

  ‘OK, everyone, let’s slowly lift our hips back up into our last downward facing dog.’

  As I pushed my hips up – and my heels to the mat – my calves, back and shoulders stretched in a delicious way, inspiring an audible moan and then a sigh. I glanced at Angel’s ghostly form, then frowned. I loved the little bugger, but did not love what usually happened after she paid me a visit. ‘Thanks for the warning,’ I whispered to her. ‘I’ll watch my back.’

  She sneezed.

  I took that as: ‘Yep, good idea.’ Then she stood, gave me one more shiny-eyed stare, turned and disappeared into the mirrored wall behind me. I eyed the spot for a moment and then lowered myself to the mat.

  ‘OK, ladies and pups. Time for savasana.’

  These words also elicited an audible sigh of pleasure from the small circle of pampered, plumped, peeled and Botoxed women. I smiled to myself. If they only knew how easy I made my doga classes. It actually didn’t even feel like work, so sometimes I felt guilty for taking their money. Mostly we spent an hour doing a lot of stretching and twists for the ladies and massages for the dogs. Some of them would never come back if I put them through the challenge of a real yoga class. But, it did have health benefits for both them and their pets, so I tried not to feel too guilty. Plus, I needed the money. If I didn’t move out of my mother’s house soon, I was going to end up in a padded room or jail cell. I was thirty-five and done with her guilt trips, codependence and manipulating ways of controlling my life. Not to mention her serious Twinkie addiction. At least, I really, really wanted to be.

  Sighing, I patted Buddha on the rump, letting him know it was corpse pose time. ‘Savasana, Buddha.’ I’d been practicing yoga with him butting in on my mat time since I rescued him five years ago, so he knew the basic commands. He happily obliged, belly up, all modesty out the window, wiggling and snorting. I left him and picked my way through the room, rubbing a few dog bellies as I went to dim the lights.

  A hushed argument suddenly broke out on the right side of the room. Celeste Green’s Chihuahua, Princess, began yipping. I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath. Not very yogi of me, I know, but this feud between Celeste and Zebina was getting out of hand. I needed to nip it in the bud before I started losing clients who came here to lower their blood pressure. Of course, I couldn’t imagine why anyone living full-time on Moon Key would have stress. No, that’s not fair, Elle. Money doesn’t solve all problems in life. Even obscene amounts of money.

  Moon Key is a Gulf coast barrier island that you can only get to via private ferry. There are around a thousand permanent residents here during off season. That triples during snow-bird season. My best friend, Hope, got me this job teaching doga classes at the Pampered Pup Spa & Resort, but I have to give up the glass slippers every evening and return to my childhoo
d home in the ghettos of Clearwater. Actually, it was our childhood home. We both grew up there. Hope just happened to marry into money and so now enjoys Moon Key as a full-time resident.

  I’m saving up though. I have my eye on this beach bungalow that had an electrical fire a few months ago. Luckily, no one was there at the time but word around the island is Mrs Yates refuses to use it for their vacation house now. The only real estate agent allowed to sell property on Moon Key, M.J. Morgan, told me personally he’s already put an offer in on one of the condos for the Yates when they come back in October. Says he might be able to convince them to ditch the two-million-dollar bungalow cheap. I’m crossing fingers and toes that by cheap he means what they paid for the LED lit, climate-controlled, blessed-by-the-Pope refrigerator inside the bungalow. A girl can dream.

  ‘Ladies.’ I crossed my arms and plastered on a smile as I stared at the feuding women. ‘Can I see you both outside, please.’ My voice cracked. Celeste snapped a thin leash on Princess’s bejeweled collar and smiled up at me, though her eyes glowed like radioactive embers. ‘Of course, Elle.’

  Zebina growled, flicking her silky, dark ponytail over a toned, exfoliated shoulder and scooped up her plump Boston terrier, who grunted as she tucked him under her arm.

  I started my deep breathing exercises as I led them out through the studio’s French doors. They both followed me into the hallway, and I shut the door on the gossiping whispers already starting behind us.

  ‘That’s it, I’m getting a restraining order and filing harassment charges, you crazy cow!’ Zebina’s dark eyes flashed dangerously.

  Celeste, a petite blonde in her early fifties, smiled up into the taller woman’s face and moved her French-manicured hands on to her hips. ‘Go ahead and try it, you selfish, home-wrecking slut. This is the United States of America. Home of the free to do whatever the hell I want, wherever the hell I want to do it!’

  I held up a shaky hand between them as the familiar rush of anxiety coursed through my blood. I fought the urge to claw at it. The anxiety, not the women. ‘Whoa, let’s take a few deep breaths here, ladies. We’re all adults. Surely we can figure out how to deal with this um … situation peacefully.’ I took a few deep breaths of my own, trying and failing to stop the tightening in my chest and my quivering stomach. ‘Please?’ I wasn’t above begging.

  ‘No, no we can’t.’ Zebina shifted Max in her arms. He grunted. I swear his bulging eyes were pleading with me to help him escape. I’m sure my eyes were saying the same thing to him. ‘We can’t because she doesn’t want peace. She wants to harass me, to drive me insane.’ She poked an accusing finger into Celeste’s face.

  ‘Not a very far drive,’ Celeste spat back. Princess yipped again and turned circles nervously at Celeste’s bare feet, getting tangled in her leash.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, counting to ten. Today, I was definitely earning my money. This was going downhill fast, and I was only one more finger poke away from a full-blown panic attack. ‘Celeste, please. Princess can feel your energy, and you’re making her very nervous.’ I pointed down at the little panting, white dog. ‘This is the exact opposite of the purpose of doga.’

  Celeste’s eyes flicked to me. ‘Elle, you … you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine. Just bad with confrontation.’ I straightened my spine and did my best impression of exuding confidence. Fake it until you feel it, right? ‘OK, here’s the deal. Celeste, I understand your anger with Zebina …’

  ‘The husband stealer!’ She screeched, her focus off of me and back on the other woman.

  ‘Yes. OK, the husband stealer.’ I shrugged helplessly at Zebina as she shifted her glare to me. ‘But that’s none of my business. And I can’t have this kind of energy in my class. It’s not good for anyone.’ My breathing was so shallow now; words were riding on short puffs of breath. ‘So, I simply can’t have you two in the same class any more. Zebina, you’ve been coming here the longest. You choose. Morning or afternoon session?’

  Her eyes darkened behind layers of expertly applied mascara as she glared at Celeste, a mean little smile pulling at the corners of her pink, glossed lips. ‘I’ll keep coming to the morning session. Since my fiancée needs me in the afternoon.’

  Oh crap. I leaned against the wall for support. My whole body went into fight or flight mode as I watched the murderous look morph Celeste’s delicate English features. I did understand where the rage was coming from. After all, Zebina was the reason Celeste’s husband of twenty-some years had just divorced her. And Zebina rubbing it in her face by calling him her ‘fiancé’ was just cruel. But, I had classes to run. And I had no idea how to deal with all the complicated drama people created, except to keep them separated.

  ‘It’s settled then.’ I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my heart rate. My face felt like it was on fire and sweat had beaded up around my hairline. I noticed all this in the background as I pushed the words out. ‘Celeste, you are welcome to bring Princess to the afternoon sessions. They start at four.’ I wasn’t sure she’d be interested in coming at all if she couldn’t harass Zebina. It seemed to have become her singular purpose in life. She hadn’t even started taking my classes until two months ago when her divorce was final. So, I had probably lost a client but gained some sanity. ‘Please … gather your things for today.’

  To my surprise, Celeste didn’t resist. Maybe it was out of pity. She eyed me sideways with a frown. ‘Fine, Elle.’ Scooping up Princess under one arm, she yanked the French door open, then turned back to Zebina. Her eyes narrowed to glittering slits as she bared her pearly teeth in a pseudo-smile. ‘See you at Zumba.’

  I busted into the gift shop, sending the crystal dog bones on the door crashing into one another and sucking in air like an asthmatic horse. I’m sure my eyes were wild as they met Bonnie’s. One glance at me and she abandoned her customer and ran to the back room, emerging with a paper bag.

  As she grabbed my elbow to steer me behind the counter and pressed the open bag over my nose and mouth, all I could think about was how I was going to die while still living with my mother.

  ‘Come on, sugar. You got this. Just concentrate on slow breathing.’

  I nodded gratefully as Bonnie helped me slide down the wall and put my head between my knees. Her take-charge attitude really helped. Giving up control of the body that was trying to kill me was exactly what I needed.

  ‘Just breathe slowly in and out. That’s all you have to do right now. Just breathe.’

  Her voice sounded far away, muffled behind the wall of pure terror my mind had erected and the concert-worthy drumbeat of my heart. Was it possible for a heart to burst through a person’s chest? The scene in Alien flashed in my mind. If an alien could do it, surely a human heart beating this hard could? No. Stop it, Elle. Focus. In and out.

  I sucked in stale air and blew out shallow, hot breaths, expanding and contracting the paper bag. The crinkling sound it made, and the fact I had eaten horseradish with my eggs for breakfast, distracted me quite nicely. Bonnie grabbed my face between her hands and made me look into her eyes.

  ‘Slow your breath, Elle. Breathe deeper.’ She demonstrated with her own breath. Her eyes were gray-blue with specks of gold around her pupils. They were earnest. Fierce. I should obey. ‘That’s it. In and out.’ She moved one cool, dry hand to push the damp hair off my forehead and neck. Then she began to hum and rub my arms. A single tear of humiliation rolled down my face and neck. I moved my attention back to my breath, followed it as it filled my lungs and then the paper bag. Again. And again. Until finally my whole body shuddered and the panic attack released its hold on me.

  The back of my head hit the wall as I collapsed in exhaustion, dropping my arms and enjoying breathing like a normal person again. I had survived. Now I was just embarrassed.

  Bonnie squeezed my hand. ‘That was a pretty bad one.’

  I opened my eyes and rolled my head to look at her concerned expression. ‘I’m OK now. Thanks, Bonnie.’ This wasn’t
the first time she’d had to deal with one of my panic attacks in the nine months since I’d been working here. I was grateful she understood and never judged me for it. That made one of us.

  She cocked her head and smiled. ‘It was Celeste and Zebina, wasn’t it?’

  I rolled my head back and forth and finally smiled back at her. ‘Yep. Those two are going to be the death of me.’

  ‘Or each other. I wondered how long they were going to last in your class together. Celeste is harmless, though I’m not so sure about Zebina. Those Greek women can be … passionate. I keep warning Celeste she’s playing with fire but she’s obsessed with revenge. What can you do?’ She chuckled and stood. Her long, blonde hair slid over one shoulder, clad in a butterfly print Valentino dress. ‘I’ve got to check on Mrs Tinsley, then I’ll run and fetch you some wet paper towels. Sit tight.’

  ‘Thanks, Bonnie.’ I watched her move gracefully back on to the shop floor. She truly was the most put-together, take- charge woman I’d ever met. She was in her mid-fifties, had the energy and body of a thirty-year-old and the confidence that came with experience. Maybe if I would’ve had a mother more like Bonnie to model myself after, I wouldn’t be such an emotional basket case. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to stop thinking about my mother as my chest began to tighten again.

  TWO

  The next morning I led the class with a renewed sense of calmness by repeating my mantra. Today was a new day. Today I wouldn’t let other people’s drama affect my own sense of peace. Today the anxiety would not win. I sighed with contentment as my thumbs massaged Buddha’s rough paw pads and then moved in between his toes.