by Kim Alexis
“The camera that just happens to be broken.”
They shared a knowing look. If Marcus’s theory was correct, then the murderer knew the resort well.
The waitress showed up with their food, so Marcus took back the map and put it away for now. Once they’d been served, he said a blessing and they all turned their attentions to the various plates and platters in front of them.
Eager to keep things moving along as they ate, Marcus led them to the next point of discussion, which was Iliana’s comment from the night before. Turning to Crystal, he asked if she knew what the woman might have meant by her exclamation of “wasn’t one death enough for you?”
Crystal shook her head. “I can ask a few people, but honestly, no one’s ever mentioned any other deaths at Palm Grotto.”
From there they moved on to the argument Juliette overheard when she was examining the products in Ty’s workstation closet. Marcus had her repeat that argument word for word, as much as she could remember anyway, in the hopes that something the man and woman had said might click with the others. Sure enough, as she neared the end of her tale, Crystal gasped.
“‘News flash’? She really said it that way? ‘News flash’?”
Juliette nodded.
“Wow. Well, I don’t know for sure if it was her, but I can tell you who uses that expression all the time. In fact, I heard her say it yesterday, when she yelled at Ty in the break room. ‘News flash! Whoever empties the coffeepot has to refill it!’”
Marcus glanced at Juliette then back at Crystal. “Who?”
She met his eyes. “Xena. Xena says ‘news flash’ all the time.”
“THERE'S MORE." CRYSTAL'S HEART pounded as she looked around the table at the others. “I might know what they were talking about. But I need to make a call before I can say anything.”
As the others looked on, their expressions perplexed, Crystal excused herself, grabbed her cell phone, and headed outside. In moments she was on the phone with Moonflower, once again attempting to get permission to share what she’d been told in confidence.
This time she tried a different approach. Rather than arguing about the detectives’ right to know, she played on Moonflower’s distrust of the cops by telling her how poor, sweet Juliette Taylor had been hauled down to the police station as a suspect in Raven’s murder.
Moonflower took the bait, ranting about “abuses of power” and “keeping women down” and other such things. From there it wasn’t hard to convince her that Juliette deserved to know about the blackmail to protect herself.
Back at the table Crystal shared all of it, the entire sad tale of Raven’s early days in New York City, the film she’d made, and the way it had come back to haunt her so many years later via blackmail. When she was done, Juliette chimed right in.
“Okay, I totally agree that the conversation I overheard could’ve been about blackmail. That would make a lot of sense, actually. When Raven showed up at the wrong time of year, Xena and whatever man she was talking to must’ve concluded that she’d found them out and was coming here to do something about it.” Juliette wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “But what I don’t get is how on earth someone like Xena could get her hands on a film that old. We’re talking thirty years ago, give or take.”
Crystal nodded. “To blackmail Raven, she didn’t need to have the movie itself, she just needed to know it existed. The threat of that film is what was important here, not the actual film itself.”
Juliette frowned. “But how would Xena have known about it? I highly doubt Raven would’ve shared such a thing with anybody, much less someone like Xena.”
Crystal smiled. “Raven didn’t tell Xena. She told Moonflower. And though the information was kept in confidence, Moonflower made the mistake of writing it in her treatment notes.”
Didi gave a slow nod. “So all Xena had to do was look through Moonflower’s notes to get the goods on Raven?”
“Exactly.”
“Why, though?” Juliette frowned. “Why would Xena have done something so extreme?”
Crystal thought for a moment, sucking in a breath as her earlier conversation with Vin and Lisa sprang into her mind. Quickly she explained to the others what she’d learned, how Raven had been burned by a beauty product during a treatment and filed a complaint that ended up wreaking havoc on several lives—including Xena’s and Andre’s. “They did it out of revenge. They were so furious at Raven, they probably wracked their brains to come up with some sort of payback. They probably dug through Moonflower’s treatment notes hoping to uncover some perfect little secret. Then they threatened Raven with revealing that secret unless she paid up.”
Juliette nodded. “The man I heard arguing could have been Andre.”
“And did she?” Didi asked Crystal. “Pay up, I mean?”
She shook her head. “Moonflower urged her to call the blackmailer’s bluff, which Raven did. She refused to pay—and now she’s dead and poor Moonflower is terrified for her life.”
Didi’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Xena and Andre as blackmailers, maybe. But as killers? I don’t see it.”
Everyone grew silent for a long moment until finally Juliette spoke. “At least I just figured something out.” She looked from one to the other. “I think I know what Raven meant by her threat to me at the airport.”
IT WAS ALL COMING together—and it was breaking Juliette’s heart. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. It’s so obvious. And so sad.”
“What?” Didi leaned toward her.
“Raven never made any secret of the fact that modeling was just a stepping-stone to her real dream. Even as a supermodel, all she talked about was her future movie career. It never happened, not in a big way, but maybe she was still pursuing it all these years later.”
Didi stared at her, face blank.
Tears filled Juliette’s eyes. “Don’t you get it? When Raven told me, ‘That part is mine,’ she was talking about a part in a movie. That part is mine.”
Didi frowned. “Why here, though? This is a spa, not an audition studio.”
Juliette looked from her to Marcus. “Maybe so, but Palm Grotto is a haven for the Hollywood elite. What do you want to bet those three men she wanted to stay near are producers or directors or whatever.”
“That would explain their expensive cars,” Marcus replied. “And the fact that they chose film characters for their fake names.”
Juliette nodded. “Raven must’ve come here hoping to convince them to cast her in their next movie. When she learned I’d be here too, she must’ve thought I was after the same thing, the same part. So she read me the riot act.”
Didi exhaled slowly. “‘That part is mine.’”
Juliette sat up straight, another thought coming to her. “This would also explain the package Orlando delivered yesterday. It wasn’t a book I saw, it was a script. I was probably reading a character description—more than likely for the character Raven was hoping to play.” The more Juliette thought about it, the more she knew she was right. “Somehow Raven must have known those men were coming here under Jimmy Stewart character names, but not which ones. So she gave Iliana a list of every single possibility and just hoped there’d be a match in there somewhere.”
“Lucky for her, there were three matches,” Didi said. “George Bailey, Elwood Dowd, and Scott Ferguson.”
Crystal sat up straight. “Did you say Elwood Dowd?”
They looked her way. “Why? Do you know him? Who is he?”
The young woman hesitated. “I’m not at liberty to say. But you must have seen him around. Him . . . and his hair plugs?”
Juliette gasped. “Quentin VonTassel! We saw him in the spa’s restaurant Thursday night.”
Didi met her eyes with a wry smile. “Just think. All this time we’ve been wanting to learn more about Raven’s mystery men, when there we were that first night, having dinner not ten feet away from them.”
MARCUS SKIMMED THROUGH HIS list, eager to wrap thin
gs up. “Okay gang, there’s just one issue left to discuss, that of who vandalized the JT Lady sign, and why.”
They debated the various possibilities—that the murderer did it, perhaps as a warning or threat that there were more deaths to come. That it was a malicious stunt engineered to malign either JT Lady or Palm Grotto Spa. That it was just some stupid prank pulled by a mischievous employee or guest.
Though Marcus didn’t voice his own opinion to the group, his fear was that it somehow tied in with the counterfeiters—perhaps as a warning of some sort to Juliette. He hoped he was wrong, but until he knew for sure, he planned to keep his eyes peeled and assume the worst.
At least there was one promising clue: the unusual footprint that Didi had photographed. She said the print looked familiar to her for some reason, though she couldn’t think why. Juliette suggested that she upload the pictures onto the computer and see if an enlarged version might help jog her memory.
Didi agreed to try. “I need to get back to my retreat duties, but if I leave now, I can probably take a few minutes for that first.”
She left, and then the three who remained divvied out the other tasks. Crystal agreed to look into Iliana’s odd comment to Reggie. Juliette said she’d try to confirm her theory about Raven’s threat meaning a part in a movie. Marcus said he would tell the detectives about the blackmail then take a closer look around the resort’s western perimeter to search for signs of entry.
Before they left, Crystal told them she had one more issue to discuss. “Sorry, but I’m still confused by everything that happened on Thursday. The weird noises Raven and Brooke were making. The whole, ‘I need another drink’ thing. The way Brooke was so out of it when I finally went in there. Do you guys . . . have an explanation for any of that? I assume it has to do with the drug that was used to poison them? It’s called atropine, I think?”
Marcus flipped through his notes. “Yes. I knew some about the drug already, but I checked it out online to get more info.” He skimmed what he’d written. “Okay, let’s see . . . Atropine is used for everything from optical surgery to stomach-related issues—like colitis and ulcers—to Parkinson’s, and even brain tumors. It can be a real lifesaver. Literally.”
“If it’s so great, why did Raven die from it?”
“In a large dose, atropine can paralyze the motor nerves. It causes dry mouth, racing heartbeat, dilated pupils, high fever . . .” He skimmed further. “Flushed face, disorientation, hallucinations.”
“Wow.” Horror resonated in Crystal’s whisper. “I saw and heard all of that. At first I thought they were drunk, but that must’ve been the disorientation and hallucinations. One of them kept saying she wanted another drink. I thought she meant alcohol, but I guess she was just asking for water because of the dry mouth.”
Marcus glanced at Juliette, who seemed pale and withdrawn.
Crystal continued. “When I got in there, Brooke was sitting on the floor, staring straight ahead and making this high-pitched noise. Her skin was super hot and flushed, and her eyes were so dilated I couldn’t even see the color in them.” She looked up at Marcus. “Sounds like almost everything you just described.”
Marcus nodded. “At least Brooke’s symptoms stopped there. Poor Raven would’ve gone through the next steps too: respiratory depression, coma, circulatory collapse, and then death.”
Crystal shook her head. “All while I was right next door.”
“You couldn’t have known,” said Juliette.
Crystal looked at Marcus. “It probably took a lot of atropine to poison them that bad. Can’t the police just check pharmacy records or something? Find out which one of their suspects had a prescription?”
“It wouldn’t necessarily had to have come from a pharmacy,” he replied. “From what I saw online, atropine is in plants that grow all around this area. The killer could have gone out and picked a big batch of belladonna or deadly nightshade and taken it from there, no prescription required. There’s also jimsonweed, moonflower—”
Crystal’s eyes widened. “Moonflower?”
The four of them looked at each other.
“Coincidence?” Marcus asked.
“Must be,” Juliette replied.
“Yeah. Must be.” But by the look on Crystal’s face, Marcus had a feeling that a new suspect had just been added to their list.
Chapter Thirty-Two
WHEN THEIR BRAINSTORMING SESSION was over and the check paid, they said their good-byes and headed out. Crystal was just sliding her keys into the ignition when her cell phone rang.
She took a look. Moonflower. Pulse surging, Crystal sucked in a deep breath and then answered, hoping her voice didn’t give away her apprehension.
The older woman jumped right in. “Well? Did you tell Juliette about the blackmail?”
“Yes, I did. She appreciated your help.”
Moonflower sighed. “I don’t relish the thought of her sharing that information with the police. But if that’s what it takes to secure her freedom, then so be it.”
Afraid that her older friend might launch into yet another rant, Crystal cut her off by blurting out the question that was foremost on her mind. “Hey, where did you get the name ‘Moonflower’?”
“I . . . huh?”
“Your name. Moonflower. Is that a nickname or is it real?”
“My real name is Doris. People started calling me Moonflower back in the sixties. I went through a bit of a wild phase, I’m afraid. Did so much moonflower they started calling me that. Eventually it just kind of stuck. I can’t say I minded too much. I do seem more like a ‘Moonflower’ than a ‘Doris,’ don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Crystal’s narrowed her eyes. “But I’m confused. You said you ‘did’ moonflower. How does one ‘do’ moonflower, exactly?”
“Oh, hon, I really don’t recommend it. That stuff makes for a nice high, sure, but it’s actually quite dangerous. I can’t believe how we used to play around with it back then. It’s a miracle one of us didn’t end up dead.”
If Moonflower drugged Raven, would she be speaking so matter-of-factly like this now? Crystal decided to take it a step further. “You do realize that’s what killed Raven, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“The drug that comes from moonflower—or jimsonweed or belladonna or a couple of other plants that grow wild around here. That’s what was put into the chai soy mud that did Raven in.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Moonflower sputtered. “The newspaper said she died from an overdose of atropine.”
“Right. And where do you think atropine comes from?”
“No way!” Moonflower cried. “From moonflower?”
Crystal was glad her friend was so dumbfounded. She really couldn’t fathom that this sweet older woman, who was filled with such life, could be capable of inflicting death.
Settling back into her seat, Crystal interrupted her friend yet again, this time to ask the other pressing question on her mind. “Do you know if there have been any other deaths at Palm Grotto? Like, prior to Raven?”
“Um . . . Yeah. Sure. Three or four that I can recall.” Moonflower’s voice sounded so casual, but as she continued, Crystal realized why: She was talking about deaths that had occurred over the several decades she’d been working there, each from natural causes.
“Sorry, I meant, have there been any other deaths in the recent past, like, say, since Reggie came on board last year?”
“Oh. In that case, no.” After a beat, Moonflower amended that thought. “Well, we did have someone die last year. But it didn’t happen at Palm Grotto.”
Crystal sat up straight. “Did that death involve Reggie in any way?”
“Yes, actually, it did. Raven too, for that matter.”
Crystal’s breath caught. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, let’s see. It was last summer. Raven came for her usual July visit, but her regular manicurist was out of town. Xena assigned a different manicurist instead, and that’s whe
re the trouble started. It wasn’t the poor girl’s fault, but something was wrong with the exfoliating cream and it ended up burning the skin on Raven’s hands and forearms. Of course, Raven being Raven, she put up a huge stink. Filed a complaint with Andre—and when that didn’t seem to do anything, she went over his head and filed another with Reggie.”
Crystal closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did that incident from last summer keep coming up? More important, why hadn’t anyone bothered to mention the part where someone died?
“I’ve already heard some of this, how Reggie was new and didn’t realize that Raven was just up to her usual shenanigans and all of that.”
“Exactly. Like a real rube, he conducted an official inquiry. Treated it like a big deal. In the end he wrote up the aide, the manicurist, the scheduler, and the spa manager—and sent the full report on to corporate.”
Crystal watched a wasp hover at the front windshield as Moonflower continued.
“The poor manicurist got fired. The aide nearly did as well. At least Xena and Andre got to keep their jobs, but there were all kinds of consequences for the both of them—no bonuses or promotions for at least a year, stuff like that. They were not happy about it.”
“Yeah, but come on. A burn isn’t exactly a small matter.”
“No, you’re right. It’s not. Raven had every right to report it. But she didn’t have to make such a big fuss over it. Screaming, crying, finger-pointing. It was way over the top. If everyone disliked Raven before, they positively despised her after that. When she came back for her January visit, nobody would even talk to her. I tried to warn her that would happen if she persisted with all the drama, but she wouldn’t listen to me. Now she was paying the price. The poor woman was completely ostracized.”
Crystal sighed. “And the death? Where did that come in? Who died?”
“Oh, it was such a tragedy. The manicurist. A few days after she got fired, she killed herself. It was so heartbreaking. She was the sweetest, saddest girl.”
Crystal sucked in a sharp breath. “What was her name?” she asked, realizing she knew the answer even as Moonflower said it.