by Norma Lehr
A clerk from the front desk and two dealers, one of whom Melanie had been flirting with the night before, raced down the stairs, pushed Abby and Renee aside, and began CPR. Off in the distance, the yelp of a siren signaled that medical help was on the way.
Jan and the other dancers watched from the pool area. A crowd from inside the casino came out and pressed against the pool rail while Abby and Renee looked helplessly on. The EMTs arrived and everyone who had been trying to help made room for the two professionals. They spoke quietly to the masseuse, slapped an oxygen mask over Melanie’s nose and mouth, and covered her while they transferred her to a gurney. They lifted while they pulled the gurney up the stairs and swiftly rolled it around the side of the building to the waiting ambulance. The ambulance squealed off, and the siren soon became a distant howl.
Abby pushed her way over to the spa attendant. “What the hell happened? She came here with a bad back.”
Still shaking, the woman brushed a lock of long hair from her tear-stained face. “I don’t know. She had a salt scrub after her massage, then she handed me a roll-on bottle from her bag and told me to apply it to her lower back. She said it was a healing solution that opened her pores. She wanted—no, demanded—that I put one of the tables outside so she could absorb the sun. We usually don’t do that, but she insisted.” The woman began to cry. “I’ll lose my job over this.”
Dana rushed over, her face drained of color. “Abby, what happened? Where’s Melanie? I was in the shower.”
Renee explained, while Abby continued to question the masseuse. “Are you the only one here?”
The woman nodded despondently. “The manager’s usually here in the mornings, but she had business in South Shore. She’ll be here this afternoon.” She began to cry again. “What have I done? I shouldn’t have let her stay outside.”
“Where did they take her?” Dana demanded.
“Ask at the front desk,” Abby directed. “We’ll follow as soon as I get some more information.”
The masseuse frowned. “I already told the emergency people what happened.”
“Well, tell me now,” Abby insisted. “Try to pull yourself together. Stop sniveling. Did she just stop breathing, or what?”
“Not at first. She said her tongue felt numb. Then she started to vomit, some pinkish, froth-like stuff. She tried to sit up. I helped her while she held her chest and gasped for air.” The masseuse bit her lip. “That’s when she had some kind of a convulsion.” The woman broke down in tears again. “I used my cell and immediately called the front desk.” She glanced at the empty massage table and whimpered while she automatically folded a fluffy white towel. “I couldn’t leave her alone. The rest you know.”
Renee had turned and gone up to the pool area to speak to the others. When Abby got there, everyone began questioning her at once. “Wait.” She held up her palm. “This looks very serious. I’m going to grab a sweater and go over to the hospital.” She looked around at the crowd that had gathered. “Who can give me directions?”
One of the dealers volunteered. While he spoke, Renee ran off to collect wraps for both of them. Minutes later, the desk clerk stepped out of the building and walked slowly toward the dancers. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I just got a call from Emergency Care. Ms. Mars is dead.”
The crowd of onlookers dispersed, leaving the dancers alone. They looked at each other with shock and disbelief. Finally Jan spoke. “Where did Dana go?”
“She followed the ambulance.” Abby said. “They’ll tell her about Melanie.”
“Whatever happened?” Blythe wrung her hands. “What did that massage woman say?”
Abby told them everything she knew. She paused and looked around the group. “Did she mention to anyone that she’d been ill, or had been treated for some condition?”
“Just her back pain,” Jan said. “Do you think it was a heart attack?”
“I don’t know. If anyone would know, it would be Dana. She works with her.”
Renee rushed back with two jackets. “This is all I could find.” She gasped for breath. “Come on.” She pulled on Abby’s hand. “My car’s out front.”
The dancers and Jan all silently stared at Renee. Abby slowly shook her head.
Renee looked at their stony faces. “What? Abby, tell me! What is it?”
Abby took a deep breath. “We just learned that Melanie is dead.”
“Dead?” Renee said with disbelief. “How could that happen?”
“We don’t know much yet.” Abby looked over Renee’s shoulder. “We’ll probably find out more now. Here come two deputies.”
The deputies, accompanied by a hotel security guard, brushed past the dancers and immediately cordoned off the spa area with yellow tape. They spoke to the masseuse, who sat crumpled in a deck chair on the spa patio with her head down. She lifted her head at one point, and Abby could see her swollen eyes. One deputy, a tall man with long legs that moved him along like Clint Eastwood, stayed close to the masseuse. The other, a burly fellow in his forties, hitched up his trousers and adjusted his hat before he climbed the steps to the group of dancers huddled in the pool area.
“You women are all friends of the deceased?” he asked as he took out a notepad and pencil. “They told me at the desk that you’re the Toppettes. Is that right?” He removed his shades and hooked them on the pocket of his khaki shirt.
They all nodded in unison. “Former Toppettes,” Jan clarified. “One of the dancers, Melanie’s business partner, left for the hospital.” She sat down on the edge of a pool chair. “I’m just curious. How’d you get here so fast?”
“My partner and I were having coffee in the casino across the street.” He glared at Jan. “That okay?”
She leaned back and nodded. “Sure. We’re glad you’re here.” She looked to the others for support, and they all nodded.
“Okay then. Let’s have your names and where you’re from.” For the next fifteen minutes, he recorded the information in his notebook. His cell phone rang. He turned away and faced the spa. When Abby craned her neck and tried to make out his end of the conversation, he walked away until his voice became a mumble.
After quite some time, he returned to the group. “This might be upsetting, but is there any reason you know of why Ms. Mars would take her own life?”
“Suicide?” Blythe exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous. Melanie is ... was … rich and beautiful. Why would she want to die?”
The deputy shook his head. “I don’t know. That call was from the hospital over in Truckee. Looks like your friend either took some substance that killed her or she was poisoned.”
Gail gasped and stood up. “You’re crazy if you think she took something. No one loved Melanie more than Melanie.”
“Well, that leaves premeditated murder, then, doesn’t it? If Ms. Mars didn’t take the poison, then someone gave it to her.”
Abby stood next to Gail. “Are you sure it was poison? I overheard one of the EMTs mention cardiac arrest.”
“We’ll know for sure when the medical examiner completes his report, but the substance we suspect is fast acting and paralyzes the heart muscles.”
“What substance?” Renee demanded.
“I’m not at liberty to reveal that information. Not at this time.” He closed his notepad. “No one is allowed to leave the Tahoe area until we clear things up. For now, we’re going to handle this as a possible homicide.” He looked up as Dana approached. “Are you the other Toppette?”
Dana didn’t seem to hear the deputy’s question as she silently dropped into a pool chair next to Blythe, eyes wide with shock. Blythe took her hand. “Dana’s her business partner.”
“She’s gone.” Dana finally spoke. “She’s really gone.”
The deputy spotted the hotel maid rolling her cleaning dolly toward the chalets. “I’ll be back later. Don’t anyone leave.” He took out a card and handed it to Abby. “I’m Deputy Eckles. If anyone has any information you think is pertinent to this
case, call me or come over to the office in Tahoe city. I can always send a car.” He hurried toward Melanie’s chalet. Abby watched as he cordoned off the area.
Abby’s fingers felt cold as she rubbed her forehead. Maybe if she’d taken Melanie up on her offer and accompanied her to the spa, none of this would have happened. Last night Melanie did say she wanted to talk. What about? Had she wanted to ask for help? She had been crying on her deck. Abby sighed deeply. Whatever it was, she’d never know now.
Chapter 5
Dana grasped the back of a chair, bracing herself as she watched Deputy Eckles block the stairs leading to Melanie’s chalet. When he finished securing the yellow tape, he passed by the pool area and stomped down the steps to rejoin his partner at the spa.
Dana rubbed her upper arms to keep the blood circulating. “I have to call the academy, tell them about Melanie. Oh, God!” She turned abruptly and left.
Abby caught up with her on the steps of her chalet. “Dana, what can I do to help?”
Dana smiled sadly. “Stay while I make the call?”
Abby nodded and followed her inside, where the maid was changing the sheets. Abby politely dismissed her and asked if she could please get someone at the hotel to bring a pot of coffee. “I’d go myself, but this is an emergency.” She didn’t have her purse handy for tipping the maid, but loose bills lay on the table next to the bed. She figured that, under the circumstances, Dana wouldn’t mind.
Dana’s voice shook as she relayed the news to San Diego. When she hung up, she sat on the edge of the bed and lowered her head. “I’ll take Melanie’s body back with me.” Her voice was a monotone. “Maybe only her ashes, I don’t know, but I can’t leave her here.”
Abby patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about that now. You’ve got time. There’ll probably be an autopsy ...”
Dana stood, crossed to the sink and stared in the mirror. “They’ll cut her up.” She sounded desperate. “Won’t they?” She turned and stared at Abby, tears pooling in her eyes.
Abby swallowed hard. “She didn’t die of natural causes. Didn’t they tell you?”
“They told me plenty.” Her tone changed to one of condemnation. “Melanie wouldn’t commit suicide. That’s a bunch of bullshit!”
No point taking the matter any further now. Dana was in no shape for this discussion. “Come on. Let’s change clothes and join the others. I feel we need to stay together until we find out what really happened.” Abby crossed to the door. “Meet me at my chalet and we’ll go up together.”
“If she has been poisoned, I’ll be a suspect.” Dana narrowed her eyes. “The lottery lawsuit’s no secret.”
The lawsuit had crossed Abby’s mind, as had the rest of her conversation with Dana last night. Except for Renee, she didn’t think anyone else here knew about the lawsuit, but Dana had made no attempt to hide her anger toward Melanie since they’d arrived. Their antagonism had to be obvious to all the dancers. “Let’s not think about suspects right now. You’re jumping way ahead here.”
Dana crumpled on an overstuffed chair and stared out the window at the lake. “After three husbands bailed on her, I pulled Melanie up by the bootstraps. I was thrilled when she won the lottery. Now she wouldn’t need sleazy guys anymore. She’d be independently wealthy. Then she began giving money away to those society leeches, and, believe me, she was a magnet for leeches. That’s why I began proceedings to at least hold part of her winnings for the future.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I loved her, you know.”
“I’m sure you had great affection for her. You’ve known her forever and worked together as partners for ten years. How could you not?”
“I mean really loved her.” Dana released a silver clip and let her light brown hair fall to her shoulders. “She was the most beautiful and talented woman I have ever known. I fell for her. Is that too old-fashioned a term—fell for her? How about attracted? From the first time I laid eyes on her when we were in Manhattan, there’s never been anyone else. I was brokenhearted when she left New York with that rat, Tom Moran. They left no forwarding address, and it took me years to finally trace her. I even hired a P.I. to help.”
Abby was speechless. What a shocker! She plopped down in a chair across from Dana.
“I finally found her after she’d been dumped for a young bimbo Tom met at a Hollywood audition.” Dana turned away from the window. “You surely remember him. The lounge singer in those smoke-filled clubs. Always auditioning for Broadway. Dark and handsome, but talentless. I helped Melanie get back on her feet after he left, just in time for her to marry another loser. And another one after him.”
Abby found her voice. “Did Melanie know how you felt about her?”
“Oh, yeah. She told me once that she knew, a long time before I did. Back in New York I thought it was just idol worship, but she knew. Yes, she did. My passion for her wasn’t an intellectual decision, and she used it—and me. I didn’t really care. I only wanted to be part of her life, wherever she let me.” This time Dana sniffed and swallowed her tears. “I’m what the professionals call a ‘hostile dependent.’ Pathetic, aren’t I?”
“I admit I’m surprised. I’d never have guessed.” Abby shook her head. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
“I’d like to think she acted like the Surgeon General, always warning me to quit smoking, because she really cared about me. Maybe she did in her own way. I don’t know. It’s more likely she was only concerned about her own health.”
Abby stood. “Would you rather be alone? I can make excuses for you to the others. They really don’t need to know any of this, and they certainly won’t hear it from me.”
“I’m not ashamed of being lesbian. My shame is being a doormat for so many years.”
Abby leaned over and gave Dana a hug. “I need to go now. When you feel like it, come on up to the hotel.”
What a revelation! Abby left Dana’s chalet. She’d meant what she said, about not saying anything to anyone about Dana’s love for Melanie. Of course she’d tell Renee. She told Renee everything. If she cautioned her, she could count on Renee to keep a confidence. If questioned by the deputies, Abby would have no reason to divulge that information. If Dana wanted to tell, that would be her choice.
Aside from the fact that Dana was a lesbian, she would now inherit the lottery money; Melanie had made her a beneficiary. When that information surfaced, and if Melanie had indeed been poisoned, Dana would surely be a suspect. Probably number one suspect, since the dance teacher at the academy had not been present at the time of death. She could, however, be involved somehow from a distance. If the deputies figured Dana was the perpetrator, they might suspect that the dance instructor was in on it, too. What would she have to gain? Dana would be the one to get the money. A lot of money. Unless the two of them, Dana and the instructor, had come to a monetary agreement beforehand.
Abby shook her head. Enough of this. Her imagination was running rampant. As far as she could tell by Deputy Eckles’ attitude at poolside, they were all suspects. How about Renee? She must have imagined Melanie’s demise a hundred times over the years for stealing Tom Moran, ‘that rat,’ as Dana referred to him. Well, she better warn Renee to keep her mouth shut. No need now to reveal any of that depressing history.
She passed by Melanie’s gate, now blocked off by yellow crime tape. She’d really like to take a quick look inside that chalet before everything was carted away. If Melanie had left a suicide note, that would end the investigation. Realistically, Abby couldn’t imagine Melanie taking her own life. Not in that way. All vomity and frothing at the mouth. She’d have wanted to go out in style. The scene would be staged, and she’d be dressed in something sexy for the occasion. Or maybe in nothing at all, like Marilyn Monroe.
Abby dropped by her place, changed out of her dance togs, took a quick shower, and slipped into gray-cuffed pants and a cranberry kimono top before going to find Renee. Renee’s rehearsal togs, black leotard, and bulky orange sweater had been tossed on her b
ed. Apparently she’d already been here, changed, and left.
The pool area was deserted. The weather this time of the year didn’t beckon many swimmers, only the hearty. She stopped and gazed down into the clear water. A thick blue line painted on the bottom spanned the width of the pool, separating Nevada from California. Before she left here, she made a mental note to swim from one state to the other. Cross that line. Ah hah. She shuddered. That might not be the only line she’d cross at the Cal Neva if she went ahead and entered Melanie’s chalet without permission.
Abby cut through the bar and found the others, all except Jan and Dana, having coffee in the restaurant. She hoped the maid had put in the order for Dana. She needed a shot of caffeine to lift her up.
The other women gathered at the table had all changed from their dance togs into casual clothes and, with lowered voices, were discussing the horrible way Melanie had died. “I ordered you a Chai,” Renee said, patting the seat next to her. “How’s Dana holding up? She looked really bad when she got back.”
All eyes turned to Abby. “It’s tough for her. Apparently Melanie doesn’t have any family. Dana had to make the call to the academy in San Diego and tell them what happened.”
Gail stood to leave. “Well, I’m going to do some gambling on the old slot machines. Pulling a handle and letting those colored symbols roll down and across are Zen for me. Negative thoughts fly out of my head, and everything wonderful happens when the red sevens line up.”
“Good for you.” Blythe folded her napkin into a triangle. “Go meditate.” She looked around at the others. “What about our performance? Is it still on? Has anyone spoken to Jan since Melanie ...?” Blythe’s voice quivered.
Gail nodded. “I spoke to her a while ago, over by the roulette wheel. She says there’s no problem. She’s expecting reporters to show up soon because bad publicity always brings in a crowd of curiosity seekers. There she is now, and look who’s with her, Dana.