“What are you going to do today, sweetheart?” he’d asked over coffee and the cinnamon rolls I’d picked up from the bakery on my way home.
I’d picked up an entire box of rolls, muffins, and donuts, thinking I might be able to get Greg out the door faster if he was taking breakfast goodies to his staff. No such luck. Instead, he plucked out a fat bun for himself and settled at the table with his coffee as if he had no place to go and no special time to be there. I wanted to scream but knew if I behaved squirrelly, he wouldn’t let up until he’d picked my brain for the reason.
“I was thinking of having a spa day. Might be nice after everything.” I sipped my own coffee and tried to still the nervous tapping of my foot under the table.
“That’s an outstanding idea,” announced my hubs. He took a big bite of his cinnamon roll and beamed at me. “Why don’t you see if Zee wants to go with you? I’m sure you can find a sitter for Lily for just a couple of hours.”
“I thought about that,” I lied. “But I think I’d rather go alone and just detox in silence.”
With a full mouth, he nodded in agreement. He swallowed and washed it down with coffee. “After what you’ve been through these past few days, I understand. And you deserve it.”
I hadn’t actually lied to Greg—I was going to a spa. That’s where Mother had said to meet her. She’d given me the name and address. Curious, I’d looked the place up. According to its website, the Olympic Spa was in the Korean section of Los Angeles, not far from downtown. Although I’d heard about them, I’d never been to a Korean-style spa before. The services looked inviting, but I doubted I would be partaking of any. Mother probably planned on having a small, intimate meeting with me in a van in the parking lot.
I must be out of my freaking mind. All the way there, that phrase played over and over in my head like an annoying ditty from a sitcom.
As directed, I pulled into the parking lot behind the spa. An attendant took my keys. The lot was nearly empty, and there was no sign of Mother anywhere. The area around the spa was seedy, and so was the outside of the building, which was covered in graffiti. It was a far cry from the frou-frou spas Zee and I frequented in Orange County. But all that changed once I entered the building.
After walking down a narrow and nicely decorated corridor with bamboo wall coverings and Asian pottery and prints, I came to a reception counter. Behind it were two cute Korean girls in their late teens or early twenties. Both wore black leggings and black tee shirts with spa diva spelled out across their chests in rhinestones.
“Are you Miss Odelia?” one asked in heavily accented English with a lyrical undertone.
“Yes.”
She flashed me a 100-watt smile. “Your friend is inside waiting. Have you been here before?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“First, no cell phones, please.”
I pulled mine out and turned it off.
She showed me through double doors to a small area of stacked cubes with doors. “Your shoes, please.” She pointed at my flats. I kicked them off, and she stashed them in one of the cubbies, shut the little door, turned a key, and pulled it out. “You are locker fifty-two.” She handed me a hot-pink, curly plastic key ring with two oddly shaped keys—one that went to the shoe cubby and another. She pointed down the hallway towards two closed doors. “The one on the left is the restroom.”
Finished with that chore, she showed me into a large room. In the middle were two sofas and some chairs in a grouping. Two middle-aged Asian ladies clad in thin cotton robes the color of wet sand were sitting on one of the sofas. They chatted quietly while sipping from paper cups. On the left-hand wall were several vanity areas with hair dryers, tissues, and lotions. To the right was a slightly raised stage with green tiles. My guide pointed to it. “That is our jade floor,” she explained. “The floor is heated. After treatments ladies like to nap on it.”
I nodded, wondering how in the world people could nap out in the open like that, warm tiles or not.
Next she pointed to the left, to a steamy glass door that divided the vanity area. “That is bathing area. You must take shower before using pools. Understand?”
Again, I nodded. Showering before using pools was spa etiquette no matter where you were.
“Some lockers are behind there.” She pointed to an area partially hidden by a wall behind the sofas. “Yours is over here.” With a sweep of her arm, she pointed to an area in an alcove to the right of the jade floor. “If you have any questions, please ask.”
“Do I need to pay you?” Most spas allowed people to use their facilities without booking massages and other services, but there was always a small fee involved.
“Your friend pay for you. If you want to book something else, please see me at front desk.” She gave me a slight bow and left.
I stood there in my stockinged feet, my tote bag in one hand, the jellied squiggly key ring in the other, and wondered what I was supposed to do next. The door to the bathing section opened, and two women walked out into the lounge area—one Asian, the other Caucasian. Both were naked as jaybirds, although the Caucasian woman was half wearing a thin cotton robe like the ladies on the sofa. The other had only a towel thrown casually over her shoulder. She strode over to the vanity, totally unfazed by being naked in front of strangers, before finally wrapping the towel around her body.
“Odelia, over here.”
The voice came from the locker area. I took a few steps in that direction and peeked. Seated on a bench was a pudgy woman wearing one of the cotton robes. She was in her late sixties, possibly even seventy, with short hair the color of a dead field mouse. She smiled at me, showing small, stained teeth. It was Mother.
She looked the same as when I’d last seen her, except then her hair had been permed into tight, tiny curls and was gray. I didn’t know how much money she made being a contract killer, but she really needed to spend some of her dough on a better dye job and a dentist. Then again, I probably needed to spend my money on some brains.
She waved me forward and pointed to one of the tall, narrow wooden lockers. “Your locker is right here.”
When I hesitated, she added with a soft giggle, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bite.” She leaned towards me. “This is an informational meeting, Odelia, and you’re going to thank me for it in the end.”
Mother stood up. “Now get out of those clothes.” She opened the locker with number 52 on the front and pulled out a cotton robe. “And put this on.” She shoved the robe at me, hitting me in the chest. “There are towels in here, too. Bring those and the locker key, that’s it.”
I clutched the robe in front of me as if I were already naked. “Do I have to get undressed? Can’t we just go somewhere for a nice cup of coffee?”
She laughed softly. “Not only will the hot tubs do you a lot of good, Odelia, but if you’re naked, I’ll know you’re not wearing a wire. And in a place like this, I’ll be able to spot anyone who might be coming along for the ride.”
“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here,” I assured her. “Not even Greg, my husband.”
“Maybe not, but you never know who might be following you. You have quite a bevy of men protecting you, and this is a women-only spa. It’s dead here on Monday mornings, so our conversation will be private enough.” She started past me. “Now hurry up,” she snapped. “I don’t have all day.”
I found Mother waiting for me in the lounge area. She was seated on a wicker chair, sipping something from a Styrofoam cup. The ladies seated there earlier were gone.
“They have this wonderful earthy tea here.” She gestured with the cup towards a small kitchenette I hadn’t noticed before. “It’s right over there. Make sure you grab a cup before you leave. It’s very cleansing.” Next to her were two bottles of water. “Here,” she said, handing me one. “They only have a drinking fountain for water, so I always bring my own. The place isn’t fancy-ass like other spas, but I guarantee you’ll be a new woman when you leave.”
/> The robe barely covered my bulk. With one hand, I held the front together. With the other, I took the water. “Just so I leave alive.”
Mother fixed me with steely eyes. “If you die here, it won’t be by my hand.”
She led me through the steamy glass door. Once on the other side, I felt as if I’d entered a different world—someplace foreign and primal. The bowels of the spa weren’t large or fancy, but the beige wall tiles and floor radiated cleanliness. There were very few people.
To my left, two hot tubs were sunk into the granite floor. The whirlpool jets made them look like soup cauldrons bubbling over a medium flame. Open showers, divided only by small partitions with no doors, were in an alcove just behind the tubs. To my immediate left and to my right were chest-high walls. Behind them were massage tables. On one table, a naked African-American woman was lying facedown while her body was scrubbed hard by a Korean woman wearing nothing but a black bra and black boy-cut panties. On another, a bulky blond was on her back, receiving the same treatment from a different attendant. Nearby, other attendants, dressed the same, stood ready.
Mother nudged me and indicated the scrubbing process. “You should try that sometime. It can hurt like hell if you’re not used to it, but when they’re done, your skin feels like a newborn’s ass.”
Up ahead and to the far right was another pool, but no steam came from this one. Straight ahead were two rooms with glass doors and windows, which I took to be steam rooms or saunas. Running down the middle of the entire area was a low granite trough with faucets at the end. Next to one, a small, naked, elderly Asian woman sat on a low plastic stool and scrubbed herself. While I gawked, she put down the scrubber and picked up a plastic bowl. Filling the bowl with water from the trough, she splashed it over her body. The water ran off her onto the floor, where it disappeared into one of the many floor drains. The place was heavy with humidity and a natural earthy odor.
“Shut your mouth, Odelia, or you’ll catch flies.”
The words startled me. For a moment I’d forgotten I was with Mother. I snapped my gaping mouth shut with an audible thud.
“Put your robe and water here,” she directed, pointing to a set of cubes, each with numbers corresponding to our keys. “But take your large towel so you’ll have something to sit on in the steam room. And you might want the smaller towel for wiping your face. The key ring goes on your wrist or ankle.”
Without hesitation, Mother stripped off her robe. She wasn’t as large as I was, but her torso was plump and without much definition, like a fire plug of soft cream. She walked away from me and headed for the showers without so much as a pretend blush, but not before I noticed a long, jagged scar running along her right side from her breast to the back of her waist.
Everyone was naked, except for the attendants … and me. I’d never been naked in a public place before. It even took me a while to get used to being naked under a sheet while getting a massage. Then again, the robe I was wearing wasn’t exactly meeting in the front, so it’s not like I wasn’t already offering up a peep show. After slipping the key ring around my wrist and clipping my hair up, I yanked off the robe, stashed it in the cubby marked with a 52, and followed Mother before I could change my mind. She said she had things to tell me—life and death things. My life and death things. Now was not the time to succumb to body issues and modesty.
After we showered, Mother stepped into one of the hot tubs. Holding the railing, I stuck a toe in. It was super hot and smelled funny—not bad but organic, like rotted leaves in the woods. I wrinkled my nose.
“It’s a special tub,” Mother told me. “The water is infused with mugwort tea. It’s very cleansing and good for all kinds of things. The other is a mineral hot tub.”
I glanced over at the other tub. Sitting in it were the two women who’d been in the lounge area upon my arrival. I took a few more steps down into the bubbling hot water, followed by a quick plunge, realizing the sooner I was under water, the less public my body was.
“Okay,” I said once I was seated on a submerged ledge next to my friendly neighborhood contract killer, “what’s this cloak-and-dagger stuff about?”
Mother glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “A new assignment hit my desk yesterday,” she told me. “One I think you should know about.”
In spite of sitting in a boiling pot of tea, a chill ran down my spine. “Someone after Steele again?”
“No, not him.”
“Dev Frye, the Newport cop?”
She shook her head.
I racked my brain. “It’s not William Proctor you’re after?”
Again with the slow back and forth of her head. “Think closer to home.”
I squeezed my brain together to get some juice out of it. Then panic struck. “Please say it’s not my husband.”
Mother slapped the water with the palm of her hand. “For God’s sake, Odelia, I thought you were smarter than this, much smarter. But you’re either dumb as a post or living in denial. It’s you, you little ninny,” Mother hissed above the sound of the bubbling water. “Someone hired me to kill you.”
twenty-two
My natural instincts were confused. They didn’t know whether to choose fight or flight. Instead, I simply slid under the hot water, hoping it was all a bad dream. When my need for oxygen outweighed my need to forget, I emerged, sputtering and gasping for breath. Mother was still beside me. She rolled her eyes as I wiped the water from my face with a hand.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to harm me!” I finally squeaked out.
I edged away from her, wondering how fast I could haul my big ol’ behind out of the deep hot tub. Suddenly, being nude didn’t bother me. To save my skin, I’d be willing to run bare-ass naked down Olympic Boulevard all the way to downtown LA. Then again, being naked was as helpful to me as it was to her. There was no place Mother could hide a weapon that wouldn’t be inconvenient or painful. She could try to drown me, but there were people just a few feet away.
“If I were doing my job, you’d be dead already.”
She moved towards me. I flinched.
“Relax,” Mother said, moving past me in the tub. “Let’s cool off and hit the steam.” She caught my eye. “Unless you prefer the dry sauna.”
I had trouble finding my voice but finally managed to push out an answer. “No, I prefer steam.”
“Good, me too.” As she got out of the tub, Mother pointed to the tub on the far side, the one not steaming. “The tub over there is a cold water plunge,” she explained. “But I prefer to cool off under a shower. That one is difficult to get in and out of with aging knees.”
I nodded in understanding. My knees weren’t bad, but they were not as sturdy as they used to be. Together we returned to the showers, this time taking cooler ones. After, I grabbed my towel and trailed after Mother as she led the way into the steam room.
I love steam rooms. I could have really gotten into this place had it not been for the worry of death hanging over me like an anvil suspended with thinning rope.
The steam room was empty. We put our towels down on the tile bench directly across from the door and put our butts on them. I noticed Mother never took her eyes off the door. It reminded me of Willie. Like Mother, he was always aware of his surroundings. I guess being a criminal will do that to you.
Mother got the ball rolling. “Seems, Odelia, you’ve stuck your nose into something you shouldn’t have. But that’s the norm for you, isn’t it?”
I shot her a worried look.
“Don’t be so surprised,” she said. “After what happened the last time we met, I’ve kept a casual eye on you and your shenanigans. I didn’t want you messing up my business again.” She chuckled. It was deep and came from a dark place. “Frankly, I’m surprised no one has put a hit out on you before. Must be common knowledge that Proctor watches over you.”
Her terrifying words were warring with the relaxing nature of the herbal steam. My body didn’t know whether to slum int
o a tranquil stupor or break out in hives. I mopped the sweat from my face with the small towel. “Who wants me dead?”
“I can’t tell you that, but I will tell you that I’ve decided not to take the job.”
“Because of Willie?”
“For starters. I have no desire to tangle with him. He said he’d hunt me down if any harm came to you the first time we met. I’m playing it safe and assuming that threat is nonperishable. Besides, I like you, and I try only to take jobs that make the world a better place. Can’t see where that applies to you and your nosiness.”
“Why are you telling me this if you’ve decided against the … um … assignment?”
“Because I wanted to warn you.”
“Then tell me who wants me dead.” My voice started to climb like a child reciting scales.
Mother turned her eyes from the door and fixed them on me. “If it got out that I told you the name of my client, how long do you think I’d stay in business? Confidentiality and trust are major parts of my reputation.”
She leaned close to me. Our bare, wet shoulders touched. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t point you in the right direction and let your busybody nature take its course. It’s someone mixed up in this mess you’re in right now, not someone from the past.”
I took several deep breaths of the hot, muggy air, hoping it would clear my head as well as my sinuses. Next to me, Mother remained quiet. My life had been in danger before, but if someone was willing to hire Mother and her band of henchmen, what would stop them from finding another hit man to finish the job? Mother’s warning wasn’t stopping anything, just postponing it. And if they had killed the Holts, why were they outsourcing my death? Were they too close to me? Too easily suspected? Or…?
Without turning to Mother, I asked, “Did you kill Connie and Hank Holt?”
“I had a job to do.”
My rising hackles overpowered my personal fear. I looked Mother straight in the eye and nearly spit on her. “Turning a small child into an orphan is not a job.”
Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) Page 18