by Norma Lehr
“Five minutes from here. Walk it every morning.” The older woman straightened with pride. “Turn left out front and cut through the parking area to White Cap Lane ’til you reach Harbor Avenue. Harbor crosses Yacht Street. Then take a left.” She hesitated a moment while she wiped her hands on her apron. “Go on down the hill until the blacktop ends at a dirt access road. Another stretch and you’ll see the wooden steps that lead to the sand.” Her face relaxed into a dreamy smile. “It’s beautiful this time of the morning.” She gazed past Abby as another customer headed for the counter. “You early birds are the smart ones. Morning’s the best time to take in the lake.”
Abby sprinted down Yacht Street, stopping occasionally to take a sip of what was left of her tea while she took in the stately two story homes and weathered cabins on both sides of the street. Everything was dark and silent in the early morn. When she reached the dirt road, she entered the beach area between two rusty metal posts that had once held a gate. She hesitated on the top wooden step to take in the view of the lake, shimmering silver in the early light. She took in a huge lungful of fresh air and started down, counting thirteen steps before her feet felt wonderfully cushioned by golden sand.
Before she’d gone more than two feet, a Black Lab came racing toward her, soaking wet, tongue lolling. Drooling strings of frothy saliva, he circled her, whipping her thighs with his wet tail.
Abby stopped in her tracks. “What is it, fella? Are you lost?” She reached over to pet his head reassuringly, but he backed away from her, dragging his front feet. He whined, hesitated, lowered his head, and began to dig furiously, pelting her pant legs with sharp grains of sand. Abby jumped to the side. The dog gave a brisk shake of his head and took off toward the water, making frequent stops to look back at her. She watched, confused, trying to figure out what he was up to, when he suddenly raced back and circled her again. This time she followed him down the sand, around a huge boulder, and onto the tiny beach.
“Dear God!” Abby raced over to the water’s edge. Dana, clad in gray sweats, lay sprawled in the sand at the water’s edge, her face in the water. The back of her hair was covered with something that she soon identified as blood. She also noticed that Dana’s hand was clutching her cell phone.
“Help,” Abby screamed, while the Black Lab whined and sniffed Dana’s matted hair. “Help, someone!” There was no one to hear. She felt Dana’s neck for a pulse. Nothing! She struggled to turn her over and then attempted to revive her with CPR. To no avail. Wrenching the soaked cell phone from Dana’s hand, she punched in 911, listened, then threw the phone down. Damn thing was dead!
The dog bounded off toward the street, disappearing behind the boulder. Abby ran in the same direction. She kept slipping in the sand, but continued to scream, “Somebody help me!” When she reached the first house on her right, she started up the steep driveway when strong arms gripped her waist. She turned, and Blade Garret held her tight.
“Abby, Abby! What’s up? Simmer down.”
“Dana’s not breathing. She’s drowned. I tried ...” She grabbed his sleeve. “Come on.” She turned and raced back to where Dana now lay on her back with wide-open eyes staring at the sky. Blade knelt, checked for a pulse, and tried to resuscitate her. He eyed the dead cell phone. “She’s gone.” He glanced over his shoulder at Abby. Go to the hotel and call nine-one-one. I’ll stay here.”
Abby just stared at Dana’s lifeless face.
Blade grabbed hold of her ankle. “Abby. Go! There’s nothing either of us can do now.”
Minutes later, sweating and out of breath, Abby ran through the lobby door and bumped into Jan. “Something terrible’s happened. Dana drowned! Call nine-one-one.” Overcome by the horrible reality of finding Dana’s body, Abby leaned against the counter, held her chest, and tried to calm herself.
Jan raced over to the desk. After she made the call, she came back, took Abby’s arm, and led her to a chair. “What happened?”
Between sobs, Abby explained.
“Was she alive when you found her?”
Abby shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I tried to get her to breathe, but I couldn’t.”
“Was she alone?” Jan paced in front of Abby. “How did she drown?”
Abby sank back into the overstuffed chair. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t believe this. First Melanie and now Dana.”
“Who’s with Dana now?” asked Jan. “Did you leave her alone?”
“Blade’s with her. A friend who’s a private detective. I’ve got to tell Renee.” She stood, and Jan shook her head. “Just sit. I’ll get Renee to come up here.”
By the time Renee arrived, Abby’s hands were shaking again. The brief calm she’d felt minutes before had been destroyed by the howling sirens.
Renee grabbed her hand and held it. “Good Lord, Abby! What happened?”
“I’d better tell the others,” Jan said as she headed for the elevators.
Abby sighed deeply. “I should go back down there and help Blade.”
“You will not. He’s a PI, right? And the police are on their way. Let them deal with it.” Renee looked perplexed. “What was Blade doing down by that beach, anyhow? Did you two jog together?”
Abby shrugged. “No. I don’t know. I only know I was relieved to see him. He took over.”
Renee went over to the snack bar and returned with two steaming cups of coffee. “Drink this.” Renee put a reassuring hand on Abby’s shoulder and yelped. “You’re soaking wet and freezing.”
Just then Gail and Blythe rushed from the elevator. As they hugged Abby, Renee dashed off to find a blanket. She quickly rejoined the sorrowful group, wrapping the blanket around a shaking Abby. The four huddled together, the last of the dance team attempting to console each other.
Half an hour later, the lobby door hummed open, and the two deputies entered—Deputy Eckles and his partner with the Clint Eastwood gait. Blade followed them in and immediately went to Abby. He curled an arm around her blanketed shoulders. “The coroner came, and the body’s been taken to the morgue. Are you okay.” He patted her shoulder. “Did you know the deceased?”Abby nodded, and Renee jumped in. “Know her? She was one of us. A Toppette. The second one to die in two days.”
Blade looked from Renee to Abby. “Two dancers are dead? What’s going on here?”
“That’s what we’d like to find out,” Deputy Eckles put in as he sauntered over to the group. He gave Blade the once over, checking out his jogging clothes. “Where do you fit into this picture?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on, “I need to question Ms. Rollins, Mr. Garret. Could you step aside?” Blade gave Abby a reassuring squeeze and reluctantly left to get himself some coffee.
“How do you know Blade?” Abby asked.
“We met down at the beach, Ms. Rollins—I mean, Abby,” he corrected when she scowled. But that’s not the point.” He drew her aside from the others and he and his deputy took down her statement about finding the lifeless Dana, then Blade, and running to call 911.
“You moved the body. No one touches a corpse before the coroner.”
Abby looked up angrily. “Look, her face was in the water and I tried to save her.”
Eckles folded his arms and leaned back. “If it was murder, you’ve made it harder to find the killer by disturbing the crime scene.”
Abby refused to be chastised. “So, if you’re not sure, you just let someone drown, is that it?”
He backed off. “Okay, okay.” He turned to leave and saw Blade. “You haven’t told me how you fit in,” Eckles demanded.
“I don’t,” Blade said. “I’m a friend of these two women here.” He placed his other hand on Renee’s shoulder. “We’re from the Sacramento area.”
“Oh yeah?” Eckles lifted his chin. “Staying here, are you?”
“Nope. Got a room over at the Biltmore.”
“When did you check in?”
“Last evening around six.”
“Come to see the girls dance, did y
ou?”
Blade leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “I came to see the former Toppettes perform. Yeah. If I were you, deputy, I wouldn’t refer to these women as ‘girls.’ My friends here are both successful businesswomen.”
Gail stood and pulled Blythe up with her. “We’re businesswomen, too. So let’s show a little respect, okay?”
The blood rushed to Eckles’ neck above his uniform collar. He coughed and awkwardly glanced over at his tall partner, who gave an uncomfortable shrug.
“All right,” Deputy Eckles said. “Same rules apply. No one leaves this area until we find out what happened here. There have been two deaths in two days. I’m on my way to the office, and when the M E sends me info about the cause of death, I’ll be back. Abby shoved her hands in her pockets, whirled around, and stared out the window, pressing her fingers against the wrapped cigarette butt in her pocket, momentarily fretting about how she’d already disturbed the evidence in Melanie’s chalet.
“Be careful, all of you.” Eckles turned to Blade. “Looks like we’ve got some creep with a heavy grudge against dancers. Go on into the Indian Room. I’ve got questions, and I want straight answers. Lance!” he snapped at his partner. “Cordon off the newly deceased’s place.”
“Wait a minute.” Abby’s voice was shaky. “Do you have the coroner’s report on Melanie’s death?”
He hesitated. “I got a call on my way over that it’s on my desk.” He coughed and adjusted his belt. “When the time’s right, I’ll let you all know what it reveals.”He turned to Blade. “Okay, fella. Let’s get on with it.”Blade reached into his pocket and dug out his keys. “Here, Abby. You and Renee go for a drive or something. The car’s parked over at the Biltmore. Take your time. When this deputy’s through with me, I’m going for a long run. Meet me back at the Biltmore.” He turned and followed both deputies into the room with the stuffed heads hanging on the walls.
“Wow, what a nice guy.” Gail’s eyes followed the men until they closed the doors to the Indian Room. “Is he the PI you mentioned? Are you two a couple?”
“He’s a PI and an ex-cop, and we’re just acquaintances, really.”
Blythe nodded. “He seems very concerned about you. Nice gesture, handing you his keys.” She smiled wistfully. “Almost like a husband.”
Renee jumped in. “You both spotted it. See, Abby? He really likes you. It’s so obvious. I knew it wasn’t my imagination.” She studied Abby’s eyes. “Let’s go, girlfriend. Blade’s right. We need a break. Nice of him to offer his car, but I’ve got mine here. Parked right out front. In all of this confusion, I almost forgot.” She turned to Gail and Blythe. “I suppose there won’t be any more rehearsals. I can’t see going on stage now. Can you?”
They shook their heads. “At least I can’t see having a rehearsal this morning,” Blythe responded. If Jan tells us otherwise, we’ll give you guys a call.”
“Renee,” Abby added. “How do you feel about loaning Gail and Blythe your car? They could use a break, too.”
Renee nodded. “Sure. Why didn’t I think of that? You’re more than welcome. I’ll go back to the chalet and grab my keys. Let’s meet out front in fifteen minutes.”
Across the street in the Biltmore Hotel parking area, Renee stopped in her tracks. “You mean I let the others use my sports car so we could take this antique? Abby! What were you thinking?”
Abby laughed for the first time since she’d found Dana on the beach. “Relax. This old Chevy runs smooth. Besides, the four of us wouldn’t fit in your two-seater, and I didn’t feel right about inviting them to go with us.” She patted the fender. “This is Blade’s baby. He offered it to the two of us; besides, I needed you alone so we can discuss things.”
Renee nodded again. “Right.” She scanned the area. “I’ll go in this buggy, but I hope no one I know from Sacramento is up here and sees me.” Abby unlocked the door and Renee climbed in. She lifted a brow. “Well, for one thing, it’s nice and roomy.” She turned her head and sniffed the backseat. “Nicely kept, too.” She glanced over at Abby. “You were pretty shaky back there. Want me to drive?”
Abby shifted to reverse. “I feel okay now.” She pulled out of the parking area and headed west.
Renee looked around. “Where are we headed?”
Abby slipped on her dark glasses and shifted into second. “The hospital, my friend. I’ve got a feeling that when Dana called the cab last night, she was headed there.”
“Is that what her note said?”
Abby reached in her sweat pocket and handed the envelope to Renee. She leaned back in the seat and stepped on the gas. “That’s our first stop. After we’ve checked things out there, we’re off to the sheriff’s office in Tahoe City. I’m curious about that coroner’s report. If Eckles got it, I want to see it.”
Chapter 7
Twenty minutes later, after Abby and Renee entered Tahoe Forest Hospital, they were informed at the front desk that Melanie Mars and Dana Johanssen had been sent down to the county morgue. None of the staff on duty at the nurses’ station had worked the night shift, so no one knew if Dana had been there last night looking for information concerning Melanie. Their mission a failure, Abby and Renee left the hospital feeling deflated.
“We can come back later when the shift changes,” Renee said as she climbed into Blade’s old Chevy along with Abby. “We might still find a night nurse who spoke with Dana.”
Abby leaned heavily on the big steering wheel. “I have a feeling Dana came here to double-check on some detail concerning the state of Melanie’s body and rushed to verify it. Although I’m not sure why anyone here would disclose information like that to a non-relative. From her note, it’s clear she had something important to share.” She switched on the ignition and stared at Renee. “Is this the biggest mess we’ve ever been in, or what?”
“It’s pretty awful.” Renee studied her nails. “Abby, these two deaths can’t be a coincidence. Looks like someone’s got it in for former Toppettes.” Her eyes were wide with fear. “If the killer has a list, we might be next.” She stared out her side window. “And then there were four.”
Since finding Dana’s body at the beach, Abby had been struggling with those same feelings, but now wasn’t the time to commiserate with Renee. “First off, we don’t know that Dana was killed. Maybe she had some kind of attack. She might have fainted, hit her head on a rock, and drowned. We’ll have to wait and find out what the autopsy reveals.” She suddenly felt the same shakiness that she had experienced earlier. “Before we let our negative imaginings take hold, let’s get over to the sheriff’s office and find out what we can.” A shiver ran through her. Before it’s too late for the rest of us.
They passed the pitched slopes of Squaw Valley, too early in the season for snow, and drove south for another fifteen minutes along the bank of the winding Truckee River to Tahoe City. When they reached Tammy’s Burger Spa, next to a twelve-foot cement dam under Fanny Bridge where the lake emptied into the Truckee River, Renee patted her stomach. “Come on. Let’s eat here. You know, when I get nervous, I get ravenous. If we’re not going to perform, I’m going to eat! To hell with water retention.”
They requested outdoor service, and after they were seated at a rustic redwood table under a brightly striped umbrella, a fresh-faced young waitress in shorts and a Burger Spa T-shirt produced two menus from her half-apron. Renee ordered a cheeseburger and a large order of the Spa’s special curly fries. Abby asked for a house salad. After the waitress left to get their order, the two friends watched the water drain from the lake into the river.
“We’re the only ones out here.” Abby looked around at the empty tables. She pulled her sweater close and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. “It’s a bit chilly, but at least we have this chance to bask in the sun.”
“Tourists love this place.” Renee motioned toward the street, where a row of curious onlookers leaned over the block-long ridge of the dam. “They call it Fanny Bridge, because the sidewa
lk is just high enough for people to lean over and look down at the bubbling water. When cars pass by on the highway, passengers catch sight of the onlookers’ rear ends and …” She turned to Abby, and her eyes widened. “Hey! Is that a guy or a gal over there taking pictures? I swear that zoom lens is pointed directly at us.”
Abby squinted to see. “Where? Which one?”
Renee purposely extended her arm and pointed. “That person,” she said in a loud voice. “The one at the far end of the walk wearing that brown baseball cap and dark glasses.” She shook a warning finger and glared.
The photographer abruptly turned and left.
Renee stood with her hands on her hips. “Takes a lot of nerve. I don’t like anyone taking our picture without permission.” She glared down at Abby, still seated. “Well, do you?”
“No. Not really, but maybe that shot wasn’t of us. Could be a shot of the restaurant’s outdoor setting for a magazine or a newspaper ad. Come on, sit. Here comes the waitress with our food.”
Renee remained standing while she craned her neck toward the sidewalk bridge. She gobbled half her cheeseburger and motioned for the waitress to bring her a large Coke. “Make it a regular. No diet. I need the caffeine and sugar.”
Abby picked at her food. She knew how creeped out Renee felt over the mess they were all in, but she did have the tendency to blow things out of proportion. What harm could come from a tourist, or for that matter a professional photographer, shooting a couple of pictures? So what if they happened to be in the photo?
Renee waited impatiently for her Coke while she furtively glanced back at the bridge. “I really need something to wash down this burger.”
Abby switched the conversation in an attempt to wipe the scowl from Renee’s face. “I wonder what Miss Maple would do in a case like this?” She reached for one of Renee’s fries and lazily twirled it. “She says, and I quote, ‘Murderous deeds are all about relationships gone bad.’ ”
“Miss Marple!” Renee’s mouth was full. “Are you still reading Agatha? I thought you’d moved on to more modern mysteries.”