“I don’t know.” Somehow, she must have heard about my call to Carlo.
“Why don’t we think about this for a while?” Sofia said. “Let’s give Jean time to cool off.”
Karen frowned. “Fine, but if you don’t feel comfortable phoning Carlo, I don’t mind doing it.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back. Have a good weekend. See you next week.”
Every cell in my body buzzed in alarm. I now feared the gentle yogini who had taught me how to meditate. “What’s Jean’s problem? All she has to do is answer a few questions.”
“Jean doesn’t have a poker face. I’m sure Carlo could catch her in a lie.” Sofia shook her head. “I still can’t believe she’s been practicing yoga for what ten…fifteen years.”
I exhaled as a dreadful realization came over me. “Do you think she had anything to do with the murders?”
“Maybe not directly. But she might know who did.”
“I wonder where her husband was when Melly Grace was killed?”
“They went to her aunt’s cottage in North Bay,” Sofia said. “I heard it at Curves this morning. He spent several days in North Bay and then came back to Sudbury late Tuesday night. Jean got back yesterday. Her aunt corroborated the story.”
None of this made any sense. If Jean and Michael had alibis, there was no need for all this drama. Unless the aunt was covering for them. Knowing Jean, she could not handle the subterfuge. Everything about her life was an open book. She had no secrets, and she refused to keep them for others.
The oven timer rang, and Sofia headed toward the kitchen. She called out, “I’ll finish making the salad and setting the table. You might want to check through the messages and call the ones I’ve highlighted. They sound keen.”
I checked through the smaller pile of messages and zeroed in on the interested clients. I called and left messages on their machines. Thankfully, no one was home. I wasn’t in career counselor mode.
I decided to clean up the mess that Jean had left. As I made my way to the utility closet, I overheard Sofia whispering to someone on her cell phone. “No, I told you I can’t leave her! You should be able to deal with it yourself…I don’t know why you need me there…No, and that’s final.”
I was tempted to tell Sofia to go to the church, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight.
I got the broom and went back and swept the area clean. I dropped the stalks in the garbage can. Jean had not destroyed the pretty glass container filled with stones. The glass would have stuck to the carpet and made it difficult to clean. I took it over to Sofia. “Do you want this glass container?”
“I have no use for it, but one of the other CWL ladies might want it. Leave it near the front. I’ll put it in my car when we leave.” She pointed to the table and bowed. “Dinner is served, madam.”
The table was set with a royal blue damask tablecloth, cloth napkins and white dishes. As I took in the large casserole dish with roast chicken and potatoes, I realized how I hungry I was.
We sat down and ate companionably. After we finished eating the chicken and salad, Sofia produced two small bowls filled with apple crisp and topped with scoops of vanilla frozen yogurt.
“When did Maria start making apple crisp?” I thought of the lovable, but grossly overweight, woman who could eat half a cake in one sitting. It wasn’t like her to bake with oats and other healthy foods.
“Her granddaughter is visiting for a while,” Sofia said. “She decided to take a year off before starting her master’s program. Belinda’s put Maria on a strict diet and won’t allow her to cook or bake any fattening foods.”
It would be easier to tame a tiger than put an older Italian woman on a diet. I did not envy Belinda that monumental task. “How’s that working for them?”
Sofia laughed. “Maria goes over to Rosa’s and indulges her sweet tooth before each meal. She’s hidden some chocolates at the back of her closet. Belinda hasn’t caught on yet.”
I tried to picture Belinda, but I hadn’t seen her in years. And I found it hard to believe that she would want to live in her grandmother’s traditional Italian home after being on her own for four years. “What’s Belinda doing with herself these days?”
“She broke up with her boyfriend in St. Catharines and decided to spend some time away from him. She needs a job.” Sofia put her cup down. “And that’s where you come in.”
“She can drop by on Monday for an appointment.”
“She doesn’t need counseling. She wants—or Maria wants—you to offer her a job.”
“What on earth would she do?” While I understood Maria’s need to get Belinda out of her kitchen, I didn’t think her granddaughter would enjoy any make-work projects I gave her.
“She could do my job,” Sofia said softly and averted her face. “I hadn’t planned on staying more than a month, but I wouldn’t mind leaving sooner than that.”
“How much sooner?”
“It would take me a day or two to train Belinda,” Sofia said. “She’s better qualified for the job. She’s got that degree in psychology.”
I had known from the beginning that Sofia didn’t want to do reception work, but I figured she would want to stay and help out for a while. Part of me wanted to pry further, but I decided to let it go. “I’ll give Belinda a call tomorrow.”
I helped Sofia load the dishwasher and clean the small kitchen. In no time at all, we were on the road and driving to see Ides of March.
Chapter 14
Saturday, October 29, 2011
“Do you always dress up to work out by yourself in the exercise room?” Sofia asked as I came out of my bedroom.
Last week, I had splurged and bought myself a Lululemon yoga outfit. A bit pricy, but worth every penny. And now I knew what to buy Sofia for her next birthday. “How was Curves this morning?”
“A bit boring. There weren’t too many of the regulars around.”
“No more news or interesting tidbits from the police department.”
“No. Should there be?” Sofia sounded annoyed.
I wondered at her change of mood. Last night, we had enjoyed the movie, and afterward we had come home and chatted until midnight. It had felt normal, well almost normal after the incident with Jean yesterday. “Is everything all right. You sound a bit off?”
She forced a smile. “Just some last minute jitters.”
“You’ve been organizing these teas for years.”
“Yeah, well I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping too well.” She changed the subject. “I’m glad we’re going to the spa this afternoon. I’ll meet you there at one fifteen. I have several errands to run.” She got up and headed for the door.
“See you later,” I called out, but I doubted she heard me. When Sofia was on a mission, she put on her blinders and ignored everything and everyone around her.
I went down to the exercise room and inserted a yoga DVD. I spent the next ninety minutes stretching and meditating. Afterward, I swam in the pool and chatted with a few of the younger neighbors who used the facility on weekends. It was good to connect with normal people who had no interest in or experience with murders.
I took a long, luxurious bath and then dressed and drove over to the Lodge, Sudbury’s newest spa. The other night, Mirella and her friends had raved about the different spa therapies and packages offered. Sofia and I decided to have manicures and pedicures today. We would leave the hydrotherapy, reflexology, and more exotic treatments for another day.
I found Sofia waiting in the large foyer. It was annoying to always find her waiting or arriving early. How could such a positive trait become so undesirable and unwanted? I took a deep breath and resolved not to apologize for keeping her waiting. “Hi, I guess you got everything done and decided to come here early.”
“I didn’t realize I was that early.” She glanced at her watch and continued, “Had I known, I could have completed another errand. There’s so much to do before tomorrow’s tea.”
“And of course yo
u have to do it all. Let someone else take over for a change. It doesn’t always have to be done perfectly and by you.”
“I enjoy doing it.” Her lips formed a tight red line of anger. “I know it’s hard for you to understand because you think all creative and domestic tasks are chores.”
“You got that right. You’re the domestic one.”
“And you are the dynamic one.” Sofia’s voice had an edge to it.
“Where did that come from?”
“From nowhere. From everywhere.”
I needed some kind of distraction or Sofia would pick at this all afternoon. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I picked up the latest People magazine and started reading it. Sofia sat there, saying nothing and watching the entrance.
I barely got the first page of the Brangelina story read.
“Hello, and welcome to the Lodge. My name is Natalia Gorsky, and I am the owner.” A tall, blonde woman dressed in head-to-toe ivory and beige tones stood before us. She shook both our hands and smiled at me. “Please excuse me for staring. Have we met before?”
I still wasn’t used to all the attention that had been generated by my lottery win, and I didn’t feel comfortable bringing it up with new acquaintances. In this case, I had a convenient backup. “I attended last month’s Chamber of Commerce breakfast. I enjoyed listening to your story.” I added, “My name is Gilda Greco, and this is my cousin Sofia DiMatteo.
Natalia nodded and moved on to speak to other clients.
Sofia shook her head. “I don’t think you satisfied her curiosity. She’ll make a point of finding out all about your illustrious past. Once she finds out about the lottery win, she’ll lay it on extra thick.”
“How do you know so much about Natalia? Don’t answer…Curves, right?”
Sofia laughed. The mood had passed. “No, she’s been around for a while, five or six years.”
“I thought she left Russia about ten years ago or so. I’m certain she mentioned that in her speech.”
“She made a pit stop in the Parry Sound area for about three or four years. She likes to gloss over those details and not call too much attention to her marriage of convenience.”
My gaze followed the tall, graceful figure that walked confidently through the foyer. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Let me give you the unedited version of Natalia Gorsky’s life,” Sofia said. “About ten years ago, a widower from the Parry Sound area was searching for a younger bride. Someone suggested he import a Russian woman. He responded to an ad in the Toronto Sun and started a correspondence with Natalia. At the time, Natalia was in her late twenties and very plain looking. She hadn’t been able to find a husband in Russia and was desperate to leave for Canada, the United States or any other country that would take her.”
“I can’t imagine Natalia that desperate,” I said. “She is so beautiful and articulate—”
“That’s how she appears now,” Sofia said. “She married the older gentleman as soon as she arrived, but she quickly became frustrated by his sedate and comfortable lifestyle. She had been an accountant in Russia, but realized that her credentials would never be recognized in Canada. She trained as an aesthetician and worked in several spas in Parry Sound and Barrie. She even took clients after hours in a makeshift home salon and got into all kinds of other moneymaking schemes. She worked sixty- to eighty-hour weeks and saved every penny.”
“What did her husband say?” While I had been impressed by Natalia’s speech, I was even more intrigued by her back story.
“He didn’t say too much. I think he might have misrepresented his own situation and led Natalia to believe he lived very lavishly. Three years after they married, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.”
“How did she handle the caregiver role?” While I couldn’t visualize her attending to her husband’s needs, I didn’t think she was capable of ignoring or abandoning him either.
“His adult children took over and left her out of the picture. After he died, she received a small financial settlement from the estate. She wanted to contest the will, but was advised not to by her lawyer. She decided to move on and—”
“Arrived in Sudbury with just two suitcases and a dream.” I remembered the rest of her story.
“That’s what she likes to say. It sounds more dramatic and makes her appear more interesting.”
“How did you find this out?” While Natalia had shared many of her challenges at the Chamber breakfast, she had not mentioned the older gentleman. She would not want that particular story out there.
“The Godfreys had taken Natalia under their wing and helped launch her career in Sudbury,” Sofia said. “Anna May spilled the beans one evening after a few too many drinks. The news spread like wildfire after that.”
“I can’t imagine Anna May going out of her way to help her or anyone else for that matter.”
“Natalia met the Godfrey women at one of those spas in the Muskokas,” Sofia explained. “She impressed Mrs. Godfrey, and the two communicated regularly by mail and telephone. You remember Mrs. Godfrey. She was a kind soul who took in foster children and all kinds of strays. Natalia needed a soft place to land. When she moved to Sudbury, she stayed with Mrs. Godfrey for over a year, and the rest…well, I’m sure you must have heard Natalia’s edited version about angels, the kindness of strangers, and the power of love. That angel she talks about was Mrs. Godfrey. Bruce Steele is her life partner. He financed all of this.” Sofia waved her hand to take in the entire spa area.
As I digested this information, I noticed that Sofia had paled considerably and shifted her gaze to a fixed spot behind me.
“Well, look who’s here. Gilda Greco, you turn up everywhere, like a bad penny.” Anna May’s eyes were brimming with anger. “And followed by your lackey of a cousin. You two must be joined at the hip. I hear you’re even living together.”
“It looks like you’re following us around.” Sofia raised her voice as she clenched her fists. “There’s an ugly name for that—it’s called stalking.”
“Me following you.” Anna May laughed. “I don’t think so, ladies. I have been a regular client here since the Lodge opened. I don’t recall seeing the two of you around. It seems every time I run into either one of you, someone in my family dies shortly afterward. That’s some coincidence. Some people might even call it cold-blooded murder.”
The receptionist and several clients in the foyer watched in shocked silence. Sofia’s eyes flared with anger as she moved closer, ready to pounce on Anna May. I tried to restrain Sofia with a gentle pressure on her arm. My heart pounded, and my brain tried to make sense out of Anna May’s comments. Anna May was either slightly deranged or under some influence. She had wildness in her eyes and high color on her cheeks. She was wrapped in a black, cashmere cape which hid her girth and gave her an elegant air. She resembled the teenage Anna May who had modeled for many of the area fashion shows. I groaned inwardly at the growing crowd of women that had suddenly materialized. I didn’t recognize anyone, but I had a sinking feeling they all knew about me.
Natalia reappeared and positioned herself between Sofia and Anna May. “Ladies, I will not tolerate such disruptive behaviour in my salon.” She glared at Anna May. “You may have been a valued client in the past, but that could change if you continue to shout and upset everyone. Do I make myself clear, Anna May Godfrey?”
Anna May lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Natalia.” She pointed to both Sofia and me. “They provoked me. They are cold-blooded killers who are systematically killing off my family.”
Natalia frowned. “I don’t know who started this, but I think it would be in the best interests of all concerned if the three of you left my salon.”
Anna May’s mouth fell open. “You’re kicking me out? After all that my mother and Carrie Ann did for you and the many clients we sent your way.” Her bloodshot eyes glinted at Natalia. “You will live to regret this. I’ll make sure the Lodge becomes a ghost town. Keep this up, and you’l
l end up back in Russia.”
Natalia paled but maintained her composure. “Leave my salon and never return again.”
I kept my head down and followed Sofia out of the salon. I didn’t speak until we reached our cars. “What a scene! We’ll never be able to return here.”
“Anna May showed her true colors, and I wouldn’t be surprised if most of those ladies thought she was deranged,” Sofia spoke matter-of-factly.
“I agree that she appeared deranged, but you didn’t help matters when you started yelling at her.”
“Anna May is a royal bitch, and she might just end up on the chopping block.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Anna May, and it’s scaring me.”
“Just kidding.”
“I don’t like that kind of kidding. Two women have died, and people keep pointing the finger at me…at us.”
“Where do you get off…?”
“Don’t get defensive on me. Anna May considers us a unit, and somehow she feels we are in cahoots against her and her family.”
Sofia yawned. “I guess we won’t be getting manicures and pedicures today. I think I’ll head back and help out at the church. What are you going to do?”
I sighed. “I might go online and check some cottage listings. I intend to make Karen Anderson an offer. Maybe we could go out there next weekend. I’d like your opinion about the renovations.”
Sofia nodded in approval. “That sounds like a plan.”
Chapter 15
I entered my building and groaned when I saw the sign on the inside door. The video surveillance system was down again. This was the third time in less than a month. Why couldn’t they fix it properly?
What a relief to be rid of Sofia! But I didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon checking real estate prices. That could wait. Karen was in no hurry to finalize the sale.
Instead, I curled up in the over-sized recliner with Sue Grafton’s latest novel, V is for Vengeance. Not exactly the best choice considering what had just happened at the Lodge, but I needed to distract myself, and strangely enough murder mysteries were my favorite—that is, other people’s murder mysteries. I read all afternoon and stopped to have dinner, last night’s leftover chicken and two glasses of wine. One glass is my limit, but I deserved the second glass after today’s debacle. Afterward, I dozed off.
A Season for Killing Blondes Page 10