Nick checked his watch and nodded. “You okay with doing this?”
“I don’t really have much choice. And I get a spa day out of it. As long as I don’t wet my pants in fright I should be able to muddle through somehow.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said as I went to shower. “But maybe you should take an extra change of clothes just in case.”
***
There was something about the wealthy that was just hard to explain. Maybe it was the way they carried themselves, or the air of authority they used in nodding their head at the help. All I knew was that they recognized their own. And I wasn’t it.
I figure me walking into The Green Door was the equivalent of Oliver Twist asking for more scraps from the table, and I was surprised no one tried to rush me back out into the street once I passed through the infamous green doors.
A cool rush of air and an immediate feeling of calm swept over me as I stepped inside. There was a certain scent in the air that made me want to lay flat out on the floor and take a nap and the sound of rushing water seemed to come from all directions. The décor was a mix of Return to the Blue Lagoon and a Japanese massage parlor that offered happy endings, but it seemed wrong for me to judge too harshly since they’d obviously made a success of themselves.
“May I help you?”
The voice coming from behind a sleek bamboo counter belonged to Minnie Mouse’s long lost twin. And if I’d been brought up wealthy, I’d have probably been schooled on how not to show a reaction when faced with something out of the ordinary.
As it was, I gaped into the face of a dragon beast of a woman with drawn on eyebrows and a beehive that added another foot to her already substantial height. She had to be well over six feet tall and she filled out the pale grey scrubs she wore without much room to spare. She wasn’t fat. She was just big. And I hoped to God she wasn’t the one who’d be giving me my massage. I liked my vertebrae exactly where they were.
“I have a one o’clock appointment. Addison Holmes is the name.”
She pursed her lips and typed my name into her computer. “Yes, your treatment has already been paid for. My name is Jasmine. Come with me. I will give you a tour.”
I barely contained a nervous snicker at the mention of her name. She looked more like a Helga or a Beelzebub. I was about twenty minutes early for my appointment. I wanted to have plenty of time to get a lay of the land, and I wanted to already be in position when Becca Gonzales arrived.
Savage had assured me just before I’d come in that Becca was about ten minutes away. He’d had a man keeping watch on her.
I followed Broom-Hilda through a heavy wooden door that had to weigh a ton, because even she strained under the pressure of getting it open, and she led me through an arched hallway where there were artfully placed bamboo arrangements and paintings depicting Japanese women at various stages of their bath.
“This is our changing room,” she said, narrowing her gaze at me as she sized me up from head to toe. I had to stare at her just to make sure that squeaky voice really was coming out of that body. It was damned weird.
She opened a large cupboard and handed me a brown robe from a neatly folded stack, a small package of disposable underwear and a pair of flip-flops. My arms were piled high and I followed her further into the bowels of the place where there were dark paneled lockers in rows and full-length mirrors every time you turned around. The mirrors were especially exciting to me because I’d always wanted to see myself naked from every direction in unflattering light.
“You can put your belongings in a locker. Once you’ve changed, just follow the golden path into the relaxation area.” She pointed to a shiny golden swirl that started just beyond my feet and grew wider like the yellow brick road. “I hope you find your time at The Green Door gives you serenity and balance.”
“I hope that too,” I said, nodding in agreement. “I could use a little balance in my life.”
Jasmine left me to my own devices in the locker room, and I stared awkwardly at the slender Asian woman sitting in a director’s chair in the corner of the room. She looked scared as shit, and I was willing to bet she was the tech who owed the FBI a favor.
I wasn’t really sure about the protocol. Should I strip down and treat the woman like invisible help, or should I strike up a conversation and pretend like I got naked in front of strangers all the time? It was a quandary to be sure, and I decided to err on the side of caution.
“Is there a restroom close by?” I asked.
“Right over there,” she whispered.
“Thanks.”
The bathroom doors were built to look like they were part of the walls and it took me a minute to figure out how to open it, but once I was inside I realized I’d found the perfect solution. If I stood just right I could see out into the locker room area.
I got undressed quickly and donned my paper underwear and flip-flops, tying the robe tight around me. I heard the squeaky voice of Jasmine welcoming Ms. Gonzales back to The Green Door, and I held my breath as I got my first up close glimpse of Becca Gonzales. She was a paler version of Eva Longoria, though with a little more bust and a lot more volume to the hair. She dumped her purse into one of the top row lockers.
I got my answer about the whole nudity protocol because Becca stripped down naked as a jaybird and pulled her paper underwear over lady bits that were bare as a plucked chicken. She pulled her hair in a high knot on her head, hung her clothes on the tiny hooks inside the locker, and then followed the yellow brick road to the next area.
I glanced over at the attendant sitting in the corner and swore she was staring straight at me. She lowered her gaze and then got up from the chair, picking up a stack of towels and moving out of the room so I was left all alone.
I wiped my damp hands on my robe and fished the SIM card and paperclip Savage had given me out of the zipper pocket of my purse. I could do this. Probably.
I went straight to the locker Becca had chosen and opened it up like I had every right to be there. I ignored my shaking hands as I dug inside her purse for the phone, and I cursed my inability to be able to get a hard case off of an iPhone quickly. I poked the paperclip in the little hole and her SIM card popped out, and I quickly made the exchange.
By the time I had everything back in her locker and my own clothes stored, I was sweating like a pig and I needed a hit of something—a chocolate fudge sundae or a flagon of whiskey—I wasn’t going to be too picky.
I followed the yellow brick road and passed the attendant on my way out as she was going back to her post. Now I could spend the next seventy minutes having someone pound the tension out of me.
***
I should have been more insistent to know what I was getting into when Savage said he’d gotten the first treatment they had available. G.I. Joe was right—knowing was half the battle.
My nether lips were now as naked as Becca’s, and it felt like someone had taken a blowtorch to my privates. And I especially liked how my technician had lubed me up with aloe as if that were going to take the pain of having all the hair ripped from my body.
I walked out of The Green Door like I’d been sitting on a horse for the last week and was thankful to see Nick parked just down the street. He gave me an odd look as I waddled to his truck, and I whimpered at the thought of having to hoist myself inside.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
He waited patiently while I settled myself inside and put on my seatbelt, and then he put the truck in gear and tried to find a break in the traffic so he could pull out.
I turned the air conditioning vents so they blew right at my crotch and I sprawled back in the seat.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “Have you ever sat on your own balls?”
He slammed on the brakes, causing an oncoming car to honk and shoot him the finger. He looked at me with incredulity and horror.
“Not to my knowledge,” he finally said.
“You’d probably know it if you had.
I bet they’d swell to the size of grapefruits. It’d be hell to walk around with that swinging between your legs.”
“Jesus, did they give you funny vitamins in that place? Do I need to report them to vice?”
“Nah. That was just my own way of using metaphor to make a point. I’ll let you infer from it what you will. I need to change clothes and take some Ibuprofen before we go on to our afternoon activities. And maybe get a cold pack.”
“What afternoon activities? I thought you wanted to unpack.”
“There’s plenty of time for that. We have a bet. And don’t you try to get out of it.”
“Hmm,” he said, pursing his lips. “I kind of thought you were kidding about the shooting range. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you having a gun in your hand. I’ve already got the t-shirt for that experience, and I’d prefer not to go back to darker times.”
“Don’t be such a baby. Are you scared you’re going to lose?” I waggled my eyebrows and made chicken sounds.
“I’m afraid I’m going to end up with a bullet in my back. You’re a scary woman.”
“And don’t you forget it. Take me to the range you go to. Maybe if we’re surrounded by other cops you’ll feel safer.”
“I’m not taking you anywhere near other life forms. I know a private place that has plenty of room. If you’re dead set on being humiliated this way, then that’s what we’ll do. Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”
“Of course I do. I’m the daughter of a cop, for Pete’s sake. My dad used to take me out when I was little. It’ll be just like riding a bike.”
Two hours later my privates were starting to feel more normal and I was pretending to listen to Nick as he explained all the rules about gun safety at the range. He’d taken me somewhere about thirty miles out of Savannah and there wasn’t anything around us but a field of dead grass, a big red barn and the blazing sun.
The barn didn’t have any frills. The entire back wall was missing and divided up into sections for shooters to aim at the targets set up in the field. The place was completely deserted except for me and Nick and a wizened little man that looked like Little Jimmy Dickens.
“Are you trying to kill me? It’s seven hundred degrees out here,” I said, putting on the protective glasses he gave me. I was wearing a strappy tank top and cut-off shorts, but it didn’t do much to relieve the heat.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” Nick asked.
“You bet. Shoot the target. Not you. Why does that man keep staring at us?”
“That’s Harvey Dodd. He’s run this place for close to fifty years. And he’s not staring at us. He has one glass eye and it kind of fixates in one place. Don’t let it bother you.”
I stepped up to my lane and put on the ear protectors that hung from a nail. Nick had set up both of our targets at a hundred yards for the first round, and he mirrored my actions in the lane next to mine.
I bent over and did a couple of stretches before finally taking the .9mm Nick had procured for me in my hands.
“You realize that your finger does all the work, don’t you?” he asked.
“Just getting loose. It’s all in the stance. Are you sure you don’t want to back out? I won’t think any less of you.”
His lone dimple winked as he grinned at me. “You’re going to like my fantasy,” he said. “I hope you’re not shy.”
I narrowed my eyes and got in position, raising my weapon. “Whenever you’re ready, cowboy. Make my day.”
***
In all honesty, Nick was a pretty good sport about the whole thing. I probably should have mentioned that my dad and I had been out shooting a lot, and that I’d been outshooting cops for most of my life. My dad used me as kind of a parlor trick whenever he and his friends got together.
I glanced at Nick nervously out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think he’d blinked since we left the shooting range—just a glazed stare into the distance as he navigated his way back to my house. It probably hadn’t helped that Harvey Dodd had laughed so hard that he’d had to hold in his glass eyeball.
I wasn’t really sure how to handle the situation, so I just kept quiet and hoped Nick wasn’t too disappointed in having his fantasies dashed. In all honesty, he’d probably be able to talk me into them anyway as long as it didn’t involve margarine or barnyard animals.
Nick’s phone rang just as he pulled into the driveway behind my Volvo. My heart lightened at the sight of the little blue house and all I could think was mine.
I tried to eavesdrop on Nick’s conversation but he was pretty much keeping everything on his end to one-syllable answers.
“I’m on it,” he finally said and disconnected. “I’m going to have to drop you and leave.”
I sat there expectantly but he didn’t say anything. “Well?” I finally asked.
“I was wondering how long it would take you.” He finally made eye contact after our little wager—which I was starting to think was a bad idea because men were finicky creatures when it came to losing to a woman—and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in impatience.
“That was Savage. He wants me to follow up on a couple of leads for him. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Maybe you could bring dinner if you get back in time. I’m not set up for cooking yet.”
“Will do.” I got out of the truck and he waved before backing out of the drive and going to do whatever secret things Savage had put him up to. I unlocked my front door and reveled in the creaks and groans as the house settled around me. I tossed my bag on the dining room table and got a bottle of water out of the fridge because I was dehydrated as hell after our little outdoor adventure. I headed into the master bedroom, shedding flip-flops and clothes along the way and leaving them in a pile.
The sight of my naked body took me briefly by surprise. I looked like one of those hairless cats but without the wrinkles. The good news was the pain was mostly gone. I fell face first into the bed and immediately drifted off to sleep. It had been a long day.
The simultaneous buzz of my cell phone and the knocking on the front door jarred me out of sleep an hour later. I was stiff in unusual places and I groaned as I crawled out of bed and tried to find some clothes to put on. Almost everything was still taped up in boxes, but I found a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt. I couldn’t remember where I’d put my bra, so whoever was at the door was going to get a show.
Fortunately it was just Kate.
“Wow, you look terrible,” she said, coming inside. “Got some sun, did you?”
So that’s what was wrong. My skin felt like it had been stretched and dried out like animal hide. I wasn’t burned that I could see, but I was a lot darker, and I could feel the heat seeping from my skin.
“I appreciate the observation. You look better than the last time I saw you. Must have gotten rid of the Twinkies.” She was dressed in her perpetual jeans and t-shirt and shoulder holster, and she looked the place over as she moved to the couch that sat haphazardly in the living room. I hadn’t gotten around to arranging the furniture yet.
“Yep, and a few other things I didn’t know I’d eaten. I owe you an apology,” she said suddenly. “You were right about not making you do the dirty work. I should have pinned him down right from the start.”
“That’s what friends are for, baby. I take it he came home and told you what was going on?”
She dropped her head against the back of the couch and sighed. “Yeah, I still don’t know what I’m going to do. He was working extra shifts to make more money, and he was taking little repair jobs after shift for women who didn’t have a man around to do the work for them.”
I thought about the off-duty cop who’d met him at the door and decided to stay silent. I believed Mike when he said he wasn’t cheating on Kate, but that woman had been on the prowl.
“I do know if I see Big Sal Angelo walking down the street that I’m going to run him down with my car. Bastard was trying to bleed Mike dry. I gave him the money
to settle his debt, but Mike’s going to have to see someone about his gambling problem. We can’t afford another bailout like this one. And he’s putting his job on the line.”
“Everything will work out,” I said. Kate and Mike were a good unit, despite his recent dumbassedness.
“How’d it go at the spa?” she asked. “Were you able to make the switch?”
“I was awesome. Stealthy as shit.”
“Amazing,” she said, her smile telling me she didn’t believe me for a second. “How was the treatment? Everything you ever hoped for?”
“If you mean was having all the hair ripped out of my genitals in barbaric fashion everything I’ve ever dreamed of, then the answer is no.”
Kate barked out a laugh and doubled over as her whole body started to shake.
“It’s not funny. If it wasn’t totally weird I’d show you what they did.”
“Thank you for showing restraint. I’ll have to use my imagination.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and flopped back against the couch. “Look on the bright side, I bet Nick is going to love it.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’ll just get hungry for Kentucky Fried Chicken. You never know with men.”
Kate left to go back home and told me to come into the agency the next day because a couple of new cases had come in. This was good, because I needed as much work as possible, and the summer had been a little light for my pocketbook.
I hadn’t had time to go by the unemployment office and fill out the paperwork to start drawing checks, but I’d get to it. Eventually. Going to the unemployment office made my recent firing a little too real. And I was still doing a pretty good job of being in denial. I was happy to stay there for a while.
I was left at loose ends now that I was by myself, and I’d had enough of a nap to give me a little energy. I put it to good use by rearranging all the furniture and hooking up the electronics. I called the cable company so they could send someone out, and the phone company for wireless Internet. A girl had to have the necessities in life.
Whiskey Sour (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 2 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) Page 17