Death Rub

by Ashantay Peters

  Katie glanced at me and winked. “What have you heard?”

  Fiona found her pencil and reached for a pad. She pretended to write. “Nicole’s a busy beaver. Pun intended. A real Miss Hit-and-Run. She’d hooked some married guy but told a friend he moved like granite, so she went on the prowl. She had her eye on some construction dude with a great butt.”

  Katie grabbed my shoulder. A nearby mirror showed me the gesture looked casual but her grip felt not light and friendly but restraining.

  “So she hadn’t reeled in the new guy yet?”

  Fiona shrugged. “Who knows? I heard that last week but she works faster than a horny teenage boy on espresso.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with a finger. “Strange, though. I remember she acted edgy at her last fitting. I almost stuck her a couple of times. She wouldn’t stand still.”

  Katie leaned forward. “When did she come in for the fitting?”

  “Two days ago.”

  I jumped in. “Did she say anything to make you think she had a problem? Do you think she faced trouble?”

  Fiona hesitated. She raised her voice. “I’m sorry, but Mrs. Jones must have misunderstood. The alterations will be complete on Friday morning, as promised.” In a lower tone she said, “No idea. Sorry.”

  I glanced in the mirror. The manager made her way toward us. She hadn’t brought gendarmes, but she didn’t appear to need any.

  Katie picked up the lie. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I know how busy you must be with special orders right now. My apologies.”

  She turned and grabbed my elbow. Smiling at the manager, she said, “Bye-bye now.” We maneuvered past her and didn’t hesitate in our straight path toward the door.

  Once outside and walking away, I took a deep breath. “Damn, Katie, why did you drag us in there?”

  “Ginger said the last time she saw Clarice, she was wearing a dress from Pierre’s. I thought Fiona might know her.”

  “That’s why you asked her about Nicole?”

  “Sure.”

  “So you didn’t bring me here to learn Miss Hot-to-Trot put the moves on Cam, not the other way round.”

  “Moi?”

  Her brown eyes held a guileless expression, but I knew better.

  “Thanks, Katie. You are one special friend.”

  “Don’t go all girly on me. I knew Fiona would have the skinny, that’s all.”

  Right. Katie and Cam worked for the same company. She’d acted to help both her friends.

  “So why do you think Nicole acted all antsy at her last fitting?

  She slowed her pace. “I’m not sure and but wish Fiona knew more.” She stopped at the curb and checked for traffic.

  “Will you tell Dirk what we learned?”

  Katie snorted. “We haven’t learned anything. So Nicole had a case of nerves a few days ago. Big deal. We didn’t learn anything about Clarice. No, I won’t bother Dirk.”

  I thought Dirk wouldn’t consider withholding possible clues a bother, but I didn’t know him that well. He remained Katie’s problem. Better her than me.

  “Come on,” she said. “We’ve got a date at the Chocolate Fix.”

  ****

  The Chocolate Fix had to be Heaven’s alternate location on Earth. Mona, the owner, had put together a sweet little shop with round tables, wrought iron chairs and the best chocolate this side of the clouds. The store’s aroma of freshly ground chocolate and coffee beans alone sent me into raptures. I drooled just thinking about walking in the store.

  Ginger Howe waved from a table near the window. We picked up a plate of truffles to share, coffee for me, iced chocolate for Katie, and joined her.

  After we revived ourselves with treats that angels wished they could eat, we started our confab. I recited what I remembered of finding Clarice. I felt a bit like Pavlov’s dog, answering without thought the same questions I’d heard repeatedly since walking in on Clarice.

  “Wow,” Ginger said. “A locked room mystery.”

  “It’s not really a locked room mystery,” Katie replied. “Have you been in that building? Offices all over the damned place. Someone could have come in earlier in the day and waited for everyone but Maggie to leave. Then they snuck down to her space, killed Clarice and left. Besides, those old double hung windows aren’t secure. Someone could have come and gone that way and never been seen, especially if they hid in the bushes.”

  “Maybe.” Her tone doubtful, Ginger brushed her namesake hair from her forehead. “But I thought Dolores locked the outside door when she left? Doesn’t she use a deadbolt?”

  They both looked my way. “Dolores said she’d use the knob lock not the deadbolt, but I was in the back. Plus, I left a window cracked in Liz’s massage room. Other than that, I don’t know what got locked or when. You’re the two solving this case.”

  Katie waggled her index finger in my face. “Giving up is not an option. We need facts to work with here.”

  I refrained from telling her she’d echoed her lover’s words. No telling how she’d take that bit of news.

  “Dolores wouldn’t forget to lock her business,” I said. “And Dolores, Nicole, and the receptionist were still there when Clarice arrived.”

  I shook my head and watched my friends’ smiles turn south. “The receptionist always pushes in the lock when she goes but leaves the deadbolt for the last employee leaving. Using the deadbolt is a pain because it sticks. There is no alarm system.”

  Katie rubbed her hands together. “You told Dirk this, right? He’s checking the office for evidence that someone hid out there?”

  “I told him, and I think he planned checking with Dolores. He didn’t seem too excited.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Really. Karma’s a bitch. Maybe I won’t be too excited, either, when Dirk gets home tonight.”

  Ginger laughed. “As if. All he has to do is blink those long eyelashes and you’re toast.”

  Katie plopped her fist on her hip. “Hush up. He could be bugging us.”

  I jumped. Ginger put her hand on my arm and scowled at our friend. “Katie.”

  “Oh, sorry Maggie. I was joking.” Katie tapped her lips with her forefinger. “You hadn’t worked with Nicole before, right? And you used someone else’s room? Why?”

  I nodded and related Nicole’s reason for booking with me. “I used Liz’s room because she left for the weekend and offered it to me. Her space is bigger than mine, decorated better, and has an adjoining bath for her mud wrap clients. She’s used my room, on occasion. We do favors for each other all the time.” I took a deep breath, heat flooding my face.

  “Truth is, I couldn’t afford to turn down Nicole’s business, but I also didn’t want her in my workspace. I wanted her thinking I’m successful. You know, in demand.” I shuddered. “I should have told her to get stuffed. Then Clarice might still be alive.”

  Katie shook her head. “I bet Miss Stuck-Up had an ulterior motive, something with you in mind. No doubt she heard you and Cam are an item and came in to heckle you.”

  An item? Crap. With or without a bed sheet tango, Cam and I both had reasons for keeping our budding relationship private. Too bad nothing remained secret for long in a small town. Not that we’d expected otherwise, but we’d hoped for more time under the radar.

  Katie sipped her coffee before continuing. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Nicole was present at the murder scene? Especially given your mutual history? Her purpose for making an appointment with you had to be underhanded.”

  Ginger shifted in her chair. “Katie has a point. But besides Nicole’s nasty tendencies, an unknown someone could have waited in an office then left through a window or even the front door. More possibilities exist than I thought.”

  Their idea of an intruder, potentially Clarice’s hidden assassin, had given me hope. “I trust Dirk. The mayor’s buddies are putting on the pressure but I’m not in jail. That says a lot for him. He could have taken the easy way and charged me with murder.”

  “Maybe I’ll be
nice to him after all,” Katie said.

  Ginger leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Never a question in my mind.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll make sure Dirk checks out our theories.” Katie’s grin left no doubt about her planned approach.

  “I don’t want you jeopardizing your relationship. Or putting yourself in a killer’s path.”

  “Hey, Ginger and I are the Demonic Duo. We can handle it. Right, partner?”

  Ginger nodded.

  I wouldn’t refuse their help. Last spring they’d faced down a killer and a blackmailer. If the two could get their ideas a hearing at the cop shop, I’d feel better.

  Chapter Three

  I tossed and turned all night, unsure whether I should phone Cam. Taking the easy way out, I dressed and dragged myself to work, leaving the call for later.

  Dolores had called to say the spa would open as usual. Chances were good I’d have a full schedule—everyone knows murder scenes always attract the ghouls—and Granville Falls is no exception. I figured I’d be fending off questions as much as releasing tense muscles.

  A varied selection of music seemed a requirement for facing the day I knew waited. I rifled through my CDs and picked out a dozen favorites. Tossing in a sheaf of sage for smudging my workspace, I left for the spa. Surprise, surprise. The client parking lot looked less than half full, but the day had just started. After parking in back, I grabbed my bag and hustled inside.

  “Hey, Dolores. I didn’t expect to see you so early.” I figured she’d been contacted by the police last night, though her questioning likely hadn’t taken as long as mine had. I avoided asking what time she’d finished making her statement.

  Her movie star grade smile gleamed in the low lighting at the front desk. “Thought the crowd might get out of control without me here helping out.”

  To underscore her words, the phone rang. Dolores made a shooing motion with her hands and I followed her silent directive down the hall. A police officer had tucked one end of the crime scene tape under my nameplate beside the door. The sight robbed my breath. Part of me registered surprise the spa had been allowed to open so soon. Yesterday, the crime scene techs had been scurrying around, today, business as usual. Guess being close friends with the mayor’s daughter didn’t hurt, not that I complained. Bills would always be due, and being able to work counted as a blessing.

  I returned to the desk. “Um, Dolores, where should I set up?” I paused. “Do I even have any clients?”

  Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have clients, a full schedule as you’ve probably guessed. You know what this town is like, full of gossips and lookey-loos.”

  I nodded and stood still, feeling like a socially challenged teen.

  “Liz said you should use her room. She’s taking off a few more days.”

  I entered Liz’s space and found the mess Nicole had left behind still waited for me. Good thing Liz hadn’t come in. Her screams would reverberate until December.

  Cleaning up the linens didn’t take long. I could strip and remake a massage bed faster than a NASCAR driver finished a lap. Even though the cops had closed the window, the open door had done the trick for airing. Nicole’s stale perfume on an empty stomach? No thanks.

  Minutes later my first client, the town’s biggest gossip, Mrs. Goode, appeared in the doorway. Lucky me.

  Mrs. Goode was a short woman who made up for her lack of physical stature with a mean spirit and big hair. Her circa 1960s hair style—teased and sprayed into strict obedience—left no doubt about her life’s philosophy. She also had a bosom that I could only describe as “shelf-like.” You know, the ones that jut out like the Titanic’s prow? Luckily, or maybe not, she also doused herself with so much perfume, you could smell her coming. Right now I wanted to turn on a non-existent ceiling fan and open a window.

  I offered her a towel for wrapping her hair.

  “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’m headed to the Hair Shack after we finish.” She smiled. “It’s my regular day there.”

  My stomach dropped. The beauty salon, A.K.A. the Share Shack, acted as Granville Falls’ gossip central. Mrs. Goode’s early morning appointment meant she wouldn’t take a chance on being anything other than first with the “news.”

  Everything went smoothly considering I kept repeating that I had no information about the murder scene. Including Mrs. Goode, many of my clients were new, so I concentrated on learning their muscles. I figured after the murderer’s arrest I wouldn’t see them professionally again. But, ya never know.

  I had a half hour break for lunch and munched an apple. Keeping busy with work hadn’t helped a whole lot. Unflagging curiosity kept my attention wandering to my taped-off massage space.

  Hoping human interaction would corral my thoughts I ambled to the front desk. “How does my schedule look for this afternoon?”

  The receptionist pointed in the direction of Dolores’s office. “Boss said she wants to see you.”

  My stomach dropped. This couldn’t be good. Dolores looked up at my knock.

  “Hey, sugar, come on in. And close the door.”

  My heart followed my stomach down to my toes. Dang.

  “Maggie, I hate to do this, but I have to send you home.”

  “Why? Did the police tell you I couldn’t be in the building?” That thought had me fighting mad. I’d call the police chief and scream.

  “Sit down, Maggie.”

  I hadn’t realized I still stood, and my clenched fists wouldn’t inspire Dolores to trust my reactions. Sinking into the chair across from her, I folded my hands in my lap.

  “You can be in the building. I checked with Dirk before calling you this morning.”

  “Then what? Why?”

  Dolores looked at her hands. “We’ve had a number of cancellations. Your schedule has fallen apart.”

  I stared at Dolores, my hands now fisted. This scenario proved way different than I’d expected, especially given the prurient interest of my first clients. What would cause a bunch of gossipmongers to desert an unfolding story?

  She looked up. “Why don’t you head home? You look like you could use some rest.”

  Although she used a gentle tone, I figured she avoided giving me any kind of explanation. Moving from a packed schedule to nothing couldn’t be coincidence.

  My gentle tone matched hers. Almost. “Mind telling me if anyone gave a reason for canceling?”

  Dolores needed to study her fingernails for the answer. “No one said.”

  The answer almost bowled me over. I knew she lied. That hurt, more than the cancellations adversely affecting my ability for making rent.

  “Dolores, we go way back. I can’t believe you aren’t telling me the truth. Don’t tell me these women think I killed Clarice.”

  Her quick reply told me the truth. “No, no that’s not it.” She sighed. “Look, someone is spreading stories. Not that you killed Clarice, though.”

  I hated that I had to pull the story from my friend, but the unexpected cancellations placed my livelihood at risk.

  Dolores nibbled at her lower lip, a sure sign of her nerves. “You have to promise you didn’t hear this from me, okay?”

  I nodded. “One of your cancellations told me they’d heard your massage skills are um, lacking. That instead of feeling relaxed, they saw another therapist to work out the kinks you left.”

  Although most of the morning’s clients were new, I’d done a good job. The women had all left with the noodle-legged gait of relaxed muscles. I’d gotten great tips. If one of my clients had been dissatisfied, I sure hadn’t seen it.

  I studied Dolores. She didn’t meet my eyes as she shifted in her chair. My continued silence caused her hands to fidget. Something stunk at the Lotus Spa and not rotten cheese.

  “It’s Nicole, isn’t it? She’s saying something and scaring off the clients.”

  The muddy red color flushing my boss’s cheeks told the story without her saying a word.
/>
  “Damn it. Why?”

  “Sweetie, I don’t know that Nicole is behind the cancellations.”

  I narrowed my eyes and bit back a nasty word. “I get that she’s your friend. You have my condolences.” I stood and headed for the door then stopped and turned. “Will you at least level with me?”

  Dolores sighed. “I owe you that much.” She rubbed her hands together. “You know I trust you, but this is my business. I can’t take chances.”

  After my mom died five years ago, I floundered for over a year, lost in grief. My college scholarship was long gone, and I’d lost my coping skills. Dolores took me under her wing, steered me into massage therapy and gave me a shot at building a client list. I owed her. Releasing a sigh of my own, I turned and sat in front of her. “I understand. Just tell me what you can, please.”

  “For whatever reason, Nicole wants to sink you.” Her muttered next words almost escaped my ears. “I wish she’d give it up.”

  Give what up? Before I could ask, Dolores resumed a normal tone. I wondered if she knew her last comment had been made aloud or if she’d wanted to head me off.

  “I think she’s been hinting that the police are going to arrest you for Clarice’s murder later today.” She rubbed her arms. “I don’t know for sure, and I can’t say more. “

  I understood what Dolores hadn’t said. A word here, an implied threat there, and Nicole—or her father—could ruin business prospects, reputations, pending deals. Although as a town native I had plenty of friends and clients, few of them were as affluent as the newcomer country club set Dolores wooed and Nicole hung with. The ones who’d made up my now destroyed afternoon schedule. She’d sold the wives their McMansions and her daddy had attracted their husband’s businesses with favorable tax deals. Nicole acted like a one-woman wrecking machine, someone who after a non-declared truce had again turned her sights on me.

  My thoughts reeled. Her infamy made no sense, except that in a strange way, Nicole and I had been headed toward this showdown for years.

  “You can see the problem, right?”

  My stomach held lead. “Yes. I’m a liability.”