by Patrice Lyle
"We lucked out with Aunt Alfa getting the list of room numbers thar."
"Aunt Alfa's magic's far reaching." Apparently all the way to SST.
Footsteps thudded toward the door before it swung open. Dr. Sylvia's dark hair was pulled up in a bun, and she wore a mustard-yellow sari with green and gold trim. The scent of curry drifted into the hallway. I glanced at Tattoo Tex. His unflinching face told me he was also assessing the obvious connection to India that Xavier had shared.
Dr. Sylvia looked from me to Tattoo Tex and frowned. "Am I missing another Carat Cream event?"
"I don't plan to host another Carat Cream party for a while." One murder was enough. "I came by to ask you about that surfer I saw you with downtown."
"We had a rather interesting conversation with him today, Doc."
I chuckled because I wasn't accustomed to Tex calling anyone but me Doc.
Dr. Sylvia exhaled an annoyed sigh. "What about him?"
Tattoo Tex retrieved his cell phone and showed it to her. "We'd like to talk to you about the Greg's List ad you placed."
Dr. Sylvia's eyes widened as she drew her hand to her chin. "That's a misunderstanding. One I can easily clear up."
I gestured inside her room. "Care if we come in?"
She glanced over her shoulder for a long moment before turning her head back to us. "Uh, this isn't a good time for me."
"Let 'em in," a guy's voice said. "They already know."
If I were a betting gal, I'd place a hundred bucks that the surfer was inside. And if he were here, why? Were they corroborating their story to dodge a murder charge?
Dr. Sylvia relented and pulled the door open. Tattoo Tex held his palm up, telling me to wait so he could enter first. He walked in, nodded at someone, and then motioned for me join him. Dr Sylvia closed the door behind me as I strolled in.
Her room was identical to our room, minus Aunt Alfa's velour pantsuit and shoe collection. The surfer from the Shoot the Curl Surf Shoppe sat on the chair near the window, eating yellowish vegetables from a takeout container.
I inhaled the sweet scent of curry. Yum.
The surfer acknowledged me with a quick nod. "I came by to tell the doctor that I'm going to the police. I think it's best to come forward."
Oh no! There goes our trip to the Annabelle Island PD in the Escalade.
"I reckon you're right." Tattoo Tex planted one foot on the ledge near the window. "As long as you don't have anything to hide about the murder, that's your best bet."
Dr. Sylvia gasped. "I have nothing to hide about any murder. I took the Hippocratic oath. And I'm a Buddhist so I wouldn't hurt a fly."
I didn't know anything about Buddhism, but I knew a passport when I saw one. A black passport with the words Republic of India etched in gold lay on the bed.
"Going somewhere?" I asked.
Dr. Sylvia retrieved her passport and shoved it into a dresser drawer. "I might be traveling overseas."
"To India?" I asked.
She nodded. "For work."
Because you can't work here? "You got your medical degree in India?"
"Yes, in Punjab. But my country doesn't have the modern advances in medicine that the US does."
"Why didn't you go to medical school here then?" Then I remembered Xavier's comment about the difficulty of the MCATs.
Oops. That might have been a sore subject.
Dr. Sylvia's face tightened, and she flicked a piece of lint off her sari. "I didn't get accepted at any of the four medical schools I applied to here, but I did at this school in Punjab. My grandparents were alive at the time, so I thought why not?"
"Why not stay and practice thar then?"
It was a fair question. One I was curious to see how she answered.
"Because I'd been in the US since I was thirteen. India had changed since I was a kid. I didn't want to stay there."
That made sense. But then I had another question.
"Did your degree transfer here?"
Dr. Sylvia's eyes clouded. "No, the school I graduated from wasn't accredited. My best friend and undergraduate college roommate told me the Punjab International Institute of Medicine was accredited, and I believed her without question."
That wasn't a smart move. I looked at the kid from the Shoot the Curl Surf Shoppe. A what the fennel expression was plastered on his face.
"We both wanted to be dermatologists and planned to be in practice together one day," Dr. Sylvia continued. "Imagine my surprise when I found out she knew all along."
"Let me ask you something," I said, even though I had a feeling where this was leading, "Was Dr. J your college BFF and roommate?"
"Yes, and she purposefully sent me to India to an unaccredited medical school." Dr. Sylvia stared out the window and toyed with a sequin on her sari. "I wondered why she was studying pharmaceuticals and pathology, and my classes were on reflexology and herbal medicine."
Tattoo Tex swung his gaze toward me. "Sounds like she's a natural doc like you."
"Why don't you see about becoming a naturopathic physician?" I asked. "It's becoming more popular in the US."
Her face clouded. "I've wanted to be an MD my entire life, and Dr. J tried to stop me. Then she found out I'd opened a successful practice in Baltimore and started talking to someone at the AMA about me."
I realized that Dr. Sylvia was trying to explain the situation with the kid from the surf shop, but she was making herself look pretty darn guilty.
Talk about a deep-seated motive for murder.
I stepped closer to Dr. Sylvia. "Do you understand how this looks? You hired a naked surfer to create a diversion on the very day that Dr. J was killed."
Dr. Sylvia turned to me and held my gaze. "I'm prepared to tell the police what I did, but I didn't poison the Carat Cream. I rifled through Dr. J's purse, looking for her cell phone to see if I could find her contact at the AMA. That's all."
"Can anyone vouch for you while you were in the room thar?"
"Certainly." A smug look settled onto her face. "Loretta was there with me. In fact, she was the only one in the room when I entered from the balcony."
Which had to be just after I stepped into the hallway to send a message to Tattoo Tex.
"Didn't she question you for digging through Dr. J's purse?" I would have wondered why someone was rifling through another woman's purse.
"Why would she care? Dr. J stole her husband." Dr. Sylvia's tone was heavily frosted with the sentiment of duh.
Okay, I had to give Loretta a break. However, I wasn't sure I bought Dr. Sylvia's story. It was a little too convenient. And why would she blindly follow Dr. J's advice about something as important as the accreditation of a medical school in Punjab? That made no sense.
The only thing that made sense, however, was the next step in my investigation.
Interrogating Loretta.
* * *
After Dr. Sylvia and the surfer departed for the Annabelle Island Police Department, which deprived us of our planned trip in the Escalade, we got Loretta's room number from Aunt Alfa. We strode to the second floor to interrogate the woman whose marriage had been shattered by Dr. J.
The hallway was lined with lovely tropical fish and reef pictures. We passed a meditation space, as evidenced by a small gold sign on our left. A woman sat cross-legged on an oriental rug next to a Himalayan salt lamp meditating. I stopped, backed up a few steps, and peered inside.
I pointed at the woman. "I think that's Loretta."
The sound of my voice caused the woman to look up. Loretta saw us and flashed a weak smile. Then she lowered her head. I bit my lip and contemplated the rudeness factor of interrupting a person in the middle of a meditation.
But the Carat Cream murder had to be solved.
Tattoo Tex tugged me away from the door when I started to enter the quiet space. "I reckon this isn't right, Doc. Barging into a meditation room to interrogate someone. Isn't meditating kind of like prayer?"
"Sort of. It helps with stress too, but
justice can't wait, Tex. What if Aunt Alfa gets questioned because her prints are on the Carat Cream jar, and then they find out about SST? It could taint her character."
Tex grimaced. "True, but why don't we wait until Loretta comes out of thar?"
I considered his idear but countered it with another. "But this is probably the best place to interrogate a potential suspect because enlightened people can't lie. Right?"
Before Tattoo Tex could respond, I darted inside the room and sidled onto the rug near Loretta. I lowered myself into a cross-legged position and pretended to om. A moment passed and calmness descended upon me. Was this a PI instinct hitting or a perk of meditation?
There was no time to waste. I cleared my throat. "Loretta? Do you have a second?"
She shifted on the rug to face me. "Is everything all right?"
One of my PI flash cards on the art of interrogation came to mind. Pretend to befriend the suspect. Pretend to see things their way.
Let's see. If my husband left me for another woman and then that woman was killed, what would I be praying for? Wait a second. I wouldn't be praying.
I'd be praising.
"I'm fine, thanks," I said. "I imagine you are too now that the woman who stole your husband is dead."
"That's not the worst part of it." Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she retrieved a tissue from her purse. "Heath has lots of issues. Cheating, obviously. And most men chase younger women, but not him. I couldn't live up to his ideals."
I recalled his pervy comment to Aunt Alfa and wasn't sure what to say.
"His cheating's the least of my problems though," she said as she blotted her eyes with the tissue. "I'm going to hell. I know I am."
Was she going to confess to murder?
"Why?" I asked her. "What'd you do?"
"I'm responsible for Dr. J's death."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A 350-Pound Motive for Murder
This was like offering a decadent dark chocolate bar to a chocoholic in the Skittles section of the supermarket. It was too easy.
"What do you mean you're responsible for her death?" I asked.
Loretta wiped a tear from her cheek and sniffed. "I told someone something I should have kept confidential."
Her voice cracked, and I decided her confession called for closer proximity. I scooted closer to the emotional interviewee.
I snaked my arm around her shoulders. "It's okay."
"Murder's never okay. Even if it's the home wrecker who stole your husband." She cried quietly into her tissue.
What was there to do but pry?
"What happened? Why are you responsible?" I braced myself, awaiting her deep, dark murder confession.
"I betrayed a confidence that had serious consequences, and I'm not sure I should go to the police because I might get in trouble."
I needed to gain her trust fast. What could I do? Then it hit me. Duh! I reached into my purse and whipped out a package of dark chocolate almond clusters. Whoever said diamonds were a girl's best friends was seriously mistaken.
Dark chocolate had been my BFF since high school.
"Here." I smiled and offered her the bag so she could select a piece.
"Thanks!" She eagerly took the package and grabbed a chocolate. She popped it into her mouth then stuffed the entire package inside her purse.
Hey! I was sharing, not gifting!
But in the name of justice, I let her keep them. She opened another cluster—without offering me one—and I decided to amp up my trust factor.
"I moonlighted as a PI once," I said. "So I might be able to help you out."
She crooked her face toward me. "PI? I thought you were an ND? You hosted the Carat Cream event, right?"
"Yes, but I solved a murder a few months back." I hoped she didn't ask for details because I wanted her to focus on Dr. J's death. "Why do you feel responsible?"
"Because I told a certain DC stylist how his boyfriend got fired." She slipped her hand into her purse and retrieved another chocolate. "And this DC stylist went into a rage, saying he wanted to rip Dr. J into gluten-free shreds and slaughter her."
That certainly sounded like Xavier. Plus no other DC stylist was present on the guest list.
To confirm I asked her, "Are you referring to Xavier?"
She nodded. "Dr. J got his boyfriend, Damon, fired from CSN Network. Damon got so depressed that he moved to Belize."
"Does Damon go by the name Poodle too?"
"Yes, that's Xavier's pet name for him. Dr. J caught Damon and Xavier canoodling one night on set after hours and told the executive who had the hots for Damon. Poor Damon was fired the next day."
"Why did Poodle relocate to Belize?"
"He said the sun made him feel better, so he got a job there as a pool boy, which made Xavier furious because he's über-jealous and hates the heat. Said he couldn't go to Belize."
Wow. That was serious motive to kill Dr. J. Add in Xavier's love of implicating others in the murder, and he'd carved out a spot for himself on the suspect list.
Until I remembered something.
"I don't think Xavier could have poisoned the Carat Cream because he was outside on the balcony the whole time during the naked surfer incident."
Loretta furrowed her brow. "You're right. Everyone left but you and me."
Perfect segue into Dr. Sylvia.
"Except for Dr. Sylvia. She said she came into the conference room and rifled through Dr. J's purse." I turned to assess Loretta's expression for my next question. "Do you remember that?"
Her face went blank as she reached for another chocolate. She unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth. "I do recall that. You left, and she came charging inside from the balcony. She made a beeline for Dr. J's purse and dug through the contents. She was upset she couldn't find Dr. J's cell phone."
Just what Dr. Sylvia had recounted, however, had Loretta watched her the whole time? Dr. Sylvia's motive was also key.
"Have you heard the story about Dr. J and Dr. Sylvia's college friendship?"
Loretta laughed. "Heavens, yes. Dr. J loved spreading gossip about how dumb Dr. Sylvia was. She laughed about how Dr. Sylvia believed anything she said, including how some college in India was accredited."
That was hard to believe. "How could anyone be that naïve?"
Loretta glanced at my hair and made an I hate to say this but face. "She's a blonde." As if that explained it.
"But she's from India? Her hair's black."
"It's weird, but she's a natural dirty blonde. Xavier darkens her hair."
Holy cocoa nibs! Had I just morphed into Planet Nuts? I'd kill to be a natural blonde! Apparently Dr. Sylvia wasn't the brightest after all.
Loretta wadded up her tissue and patted my leg. "You saved me. Thank you for the chocolate and for freeing my soul. I was so worried I'd caused a murder!"
I cast a discreet glance at Loretta's roots. Nope, not a blonde.
What was her excuse?
* * *
Loretta departed the meditation room brimming with clarity now that her conscience had been relieved of murder, but I emerged in a state of confusion. Poor Loretta had really believed Xavier killed Dr. J, but the naked surfer video proved he didn't. And Loretta had confirmed Dr. Sylvia's story about rifling through Dr. J's purse.
So who killed Dr. J?
Wait a second. I hadn't asked Loretta about her possible involvement given her cheating ex-husband. Had she played me, diverting my attention away from her by admitting her guilt? Another diversion? Plus she'd nabbed my entire package of chocolates, which showed criminal tendencies. Hmm.
Tattoo Tex's laughter nearby caught my attention. Then a woman's laugh rang out, causing my hackles to rise.
That sounds like that little fitness tart.
Loretta would have to wait.
I charged down the hallway in my bling dung kickers toward my boyfriend's voice. A nearby alcove contained a couple of ocean photos and a striped couch occupied by Tattoo Tex and Bridget.
The tart's skirt barely covered her femininity, and the edge of her cowboy hat was a couple of inches away from my boyfriend's! My stomach clenched, and my fists curled.
"There you are, Tex." I inserted myself onto the couch forcefully between them, causing Bridget to tumble sideways.
"Whoa. Easy thar," Tattoo Tex said as he slid his arm around my waist. "Are you all right, Doc?"
I am now.
Bridget righted herself at the end of the couch and glared at me. "Excuse me. Why don't you act like a lady instead of a hired farmhand?"
I eyed her skirt with purpose. "For a woman wearing a skirt the size of a postage stamp, I don't think you're qualified to teach a class on being a lady."
Bridget adjusted her purple cowboy hat and narrowed her heavily made-up eyes. "I was just inviting Tattoo Tex to a hayride in Dallas next month."
My stomach broke into a panic mambo. "You live in Dallas?"
"Part of the year. I have a ranch there." She shot Tattoo Tex a lusty look. "But I might look into full-time Texan residency now."
Tattoo Tex laughed. "Like I told you thar, I have plans to pack up my truck and move to the Maryland shore soon."
Aw. I turned to Tex and flashed him a silly smile. "We need to shore up that plan soon."
Tex chuckled.
Bridget rose and planted her hands on her hips. "I doubt he'll move in the next two weeks." Then she turned toward Tex and smiled sweetly. "I bet a tall drink of water like you drives a truck?"
Tattoo Tex looked at me and nodded. "I drive a Ford pickup."
Bridget squealed and did a little cheerleader jump-and-clap thing. Super annoying. "Oh, yay. I've got two front row tickets to the Monster Truck Show two weeks from now. You want to go?"
"Sure, he'd love your two tickets," I said, smiling sweetly. "So he and I can go." I placed a territorial hand on Tattoo Tex's thigh.
"Whatever." Bridget tossed her annoyingly glossy hair behind her shoulder. "You've got such a jealous chip on your shoulder about me. Why can't you just accept that you'll never be as skinny as me?"