Death Comes to a Retreat (Book 4 Molly Masters Mysteries)

by Leslie O'Kane

  “No, but he seemed so upset, I thought I’d say something…motherly to him.”

  She let out a chortle and said, “Oh, he’d have enjoyed that, all right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He has a… thing for middle-aged women.”

  I tried hard to keep my mouth shut. I was only thirty-seven. As long as there were still a few one-hundred-and-four-year old senior citizens out there, I had fifteen years to go until I would consider myself “middle-aged.”

  “Allison and Max were lovers,” Celia said. She pushed against her frosted hair. Her hairspray was so effective, she might as well have been knocking against wood.

  “Was this common knowledge?”

  Celia flicked her hand at me. “Everyone in the neighborhood knew.” She cleared her throat. “Lois absolutely detested Allison for robbing her cradle.”

  “But… why did you invite Lois and Allison to a weekend retreat together, knowing they had this terrible source of friction between them?”

  She set her jaw and said through her teeth, “I promised you I would organize your retreat, and I never go back on a promise. You needed attendees. I thought everyone could set aside their petty differences for one weekend,”

  “You call Allison taking Lois’s teenaged son as a lover a ‘petty difference’?”

  “Yes! They’d had months and months to work out their dispute. How was I supposed to know they still hadn’t come to terms with it?”

  “Did you ask either of them if they had?”

  She clicked her tongue. “There’s no sense in trying to be civil to you, Molly.” She whirled on her heel and marched off, saying over her shoulder, “You’re intent on blaming somebody else for absolutely everything.”

  I stood there gaping at her for a moment, then retorted, too late for her to hear, “Not ‘absolutely everything.’ For Allison’s murder, I certainly do.”

  “Molly?”

  The sudden voice so close behind me made me jump. I whirled around. It was Nancy. Her husband—if my original assumption had been correct—was standing a couple of steps behind her. She smiled sympathetically, the skin around her gray eyes crinkling into attractive laugh lines. “Talking to yourself out loud is a sign of stress. Did you even realize that was what you were doing just now?”

  I chuckled in my embarrassment and frustration. “Actually, I was just talking to Celia, who stormed off right before you got here.”

  She nodded. “I should have guessed. Celia can drive the sanest among us to talking to ourselves.”

  Nancy’s comment reminded me that I had yet to learn how she’d gotten to know Allison and her immediate neighbors. “You don’t live in her neighborhood, do you?”

  “No, Celia owns the building my office is in, and we both happened to enroll in Julie’s Zumba class. That’s how Katherine got to know everyone, as well.” She turned and spotted Julie across the lawn. “Which reminds me. I wanted to ask her when our next class was.” She moved off in Julie’s direction while her husband continued on to the parking lot.

  Lauren joined me, closely followed by Joe Cummings, along with the petite, sweet-looking woman I’d assumed was his wife.

  Joe was now wearing an ill-fitting brown suit, but he still had on the same ragged running shoes he’d worn earlier today. “Well, hello there, Molly. I’d like you to meet my wife, Ruth.” We exchanged greetings, and I introduced Lauren to both of them.

  Joe held out his hand, which Lauren shook. “Nice, firm handshake,” he told her.

  “Good hands for plying,” I added.

  Lauren shot me a questioning look. Ruth said, “Molly, Joe tells me you made an excellent electrician’s apprentice. Joe’s got to find a new partner—though I don’t suppose this is the time to talk about that. I’m so sorry about the loss of your friend.”

  “Me, too,” I answered. “Did you know her?”

  She shook her head. “Only met her a couple of times. She was a loner.” She gave Joe’s arm a squeeze. “I’m going to go wait in the car. No rush, if you want to stay and chat.”

  “Means I’ve got all of two minutes,” he grumbled.

  “Joe, did Allison ever say anything to you about a young man who was living in her garage loft?”

  “Lois’s son. Allison never liked to talk about him much.

  Lois, on the other hand, used to call me and the wife at all hours to insist I tell Allison to get her claws off her boy, or else.”

  “Did you discuss those phone calls with Allison?”

  He nodded. “She was embarrassed. May-December kind of romance, I gathered. Far as I could see, they truly loved each other. And I was all for anything that could encourage her to get away from Richard.”

  With Allison sexually involved with Lois’s teenage son, I could only imagine how angry that must have made Lois. “Why would Lois use Allison as her electrician if—” I stopped, remembering her crush on Joe, which explained why she’d be willing to put herself through exposure to Allison just to get to him.

  “I always suspected Lois had some pull on Allison,” Joe said, “as though she were blackmailing her.”

  “What do you think Lois could possibly blackmail Allison for?”

  He shrugged, seemingly all too aware of the possibility somebody might overhear. I looked over and saw that Nancy had left, but Celia and Julie were engaged in an intense conversation. Julie headed our way just as Joe said his goodbyes and rushed off. She wore a brilliant smile, sandals, and a black cotton knit dress that was really just a T-shirt. If she raised both arms, the hemline would be above her panties. Watching her approach, it occurred to me that I’d yet to see her in anything that didn’t appear to be two sizes too small.

  “Hi, Lauren. Hi, Molly. How’s BC doing?”

  I smiled. Though Julie was not a great dresser and was too terminally perky for my taste, I owed her a tremendous debt for giving me my wonderful new puppy. “She’s great and just adorable. Thanks.”

  Julie clasped her hands in a youthful gesture of happiness. “Do either of you do Zumba?”

  “I don’t,” I answered promptly. “I’m not sure about the dog.”

  “No, no, I meant you and Lauren. I’m holding a special class tonight in Allison’s honor, after closing.”

  “After closing what?” Lauren asked.

  “The studio. I know it sounds strange, but it’s the best way for me to get sadness out of my system: exercise and sweat it out. And, see, normally, this is right when we’d be having a class, but I’m here instead. I’m the manager, so I can keep it open late for a private party anytime I want. So, what do you say?”

  “Sure. I’d love to go,” I lied.

  I widened my eyes at Lauren, who took the hint and said, “So would I. So, um, we’re going to be exercising at what time tonight?”

  “Nine-thirty. So you’ll still have plenty of cool-down time, too, before bed.” Julie grinned and gave us a gung-ho fist pump. “I’ll call Lois, and we’ll see if she’ll come.”

  Lauren grimaced and grabbed my arm the instant Julie was gone. “Tell me. Why are we doing this?”

  “So I can get more information about the murder.”

  “Ah, yes. Interrogation during exercise class. And a-one and a-two and are-you-a-killer?”

  “Is that going to be too hard on your twisted ankle?”

  “My ankle? No, it barely even… I mean, yes.” She suddenly feigned a bad limp and cried, “Ooh! Ouch!” with every step as we made our way to the car.

  We rushed home and checked on our significant others. Jim was on antibiotics. The children and puppy were on the couch in front of the TV. I booted BC off and told the children they needed to train the dog to stay off our furniture. In the meantime, Tommy and Lauren got into a whale of an argument and discreetly moved it to the guest room downstairs.

  Not actually owning a leotard, I changed into shorts and a T-shirt. I tucked the kids into bed and grabbed my keys. To avoid embarrassing Lauren and Tommy by interrupting their disag
reement, I decided to wait for fifteen minutes in Jim’s rental car. If Lauren didn’t come by then, I would go alone. In just under that time, she came out and got into the car, but she had been crying.

  We took off, and I said gently, “Want to talk about it?” She shook her head.

  Twenty minutes later, after all of eight minutes of Zumba, I was gasping for air. Then, to break my heart, Julie announced, “Is everybody all warmed up? Ready to do some Zumba?” And I realized that we’d merely done the stretching portion. Class was yet to begin.

  Nancy, Lois, and Katherine were there, but Celia was missing. Julie started some song that was way too fast for me.

  “Go for the burn!” Julie cried over the energetic rhythm of the music. “Let’s do it for Allison!”

  A memorial Zumba class? Though I’d come to realize how little I’d really known about Allison, I was sure that, were she able to see us, she’d get a good laugh out of this.

  Lauren was doing fine, but by now I really and truly hated Julie. She was wearing wrist and ankle weights, which was apparently all that kept her from perkying her way into outer space. She kept bouncing around, calling out, “You can do it, Molly!”

  Which was not true. I was thoroughly defeated by a step called the “grapevine,” a sideways step in which I promised myself that if I could just figure out which foot went in front, I’d grapevine right out the door to the car.

  Julie trotted past me and cried, “Move those arms, Molly! That’s what gets the heart pumping.”

  “It is pumping. I can tell I’m not dead’ cause I’m in pain!”

  My mind started to hallucinate images of greeting cards. I pictured a woman sweating, tongue hanging out, crying, “If this is supposed to be aerobic exercise, how come I can’t breathe?”

  I survived the class by doing the motions only when Julie was looking at me and gasping for air when her back was turned. At the end of class, we had a “cool-down period,” which in my case consisted of lying on my back, panting, and trying not to whimper. Afterward Julie said. “Sorry that wasn’t much of a workout, guys. My heart wasn’t in it. I’ll make it up to you next time.”

  Lois came up to me and offered me a hand, which I accepted. She pulled me to my feet in one clean-and-jerk motion. “Molly, for a skinny person, you’re sure in rotten shape.”

  “Thank you very much. I’ve been spoiled by all that oxygen in New York.”

  Lauren had fared considerably better than I but was still red-faced and sweaty. We all headed to the women’s locker room, never a place where I feel comfortable—having been permanently damaged by the experience of being the last girl in my entire high school graduating class to get a bra.

  “I was expecting Celia to be here,” I said to Katherine, who was using the locker near mine.

  “As was I,” Katherine said. “She’s usually the de facto captain of our little group. Something must have come up.”

  Julie, totally nude, strode past us, drying her hair. It was truly demoralizing to see that her breasts, despite their size, were every bit as perky as her personality. She grinned at us. “There. That feels better.”

  I didn’t even want to ask what she was referring to, but moments later she had pulled another long T-shirt over her head. stepped into some flip-flops, and was apparently fully dressed. She couldn’t tuck this “dress” into her panties, for she wasn’t wearing any. Hope she didn’t have to sit on a vinyl seat anytime soon.

  “I’ve got to return a couple of phone calls, then I’d better lock up. I need to get home to the pups.”

  “See you in the sauna,” Katherine said to no one in particular.

  Within a minute, Lauren and I were alone in the locker room, the others apparently having a regular routine of exercise half to death, then head to the oven for some slow roasting.

  “I suppose that means you want to go to the sauna, too, right?”

  “I wouldn’t say I ‘want to,’ exactly.”

  She nodded and led the way. “Wow, this is fun,” Lauren said to me. “Next time, let’s just hire someone to beat us with a big stick, shall we?”

  Katherine, Nancy, and Lois were already seated on the redwood benches in the sauna. Nancy moved over, and Lauren and I joined them. No one spoke. “Whew,” I said to break the silence. “It’s like a sauna in here.”

  Nobody laughed.

  “I can see how your particular brand of humor could translate well into greeting cards,” Katherine said in that affected drawl of hers. “It would be the equivalent of primitive art.” She gave me a haughty look, having essentially slapped me in the face with a duelist’s glove.

  In as casual a voice as I could muster, I said, “Thanks. And does being judgmental help or hinder you in your teaching career?”

  Katherine shot me a hateful glare but said nothing. Beside her, Lois smiled almost imperceptibly, and Nancy stiffened, as if poised to slip into her calming therapist role.

  Lauren cleared her throat, then asked, “So, all five of you used to come to this particular class?”

  “Yep,” Lois said. “We had a pact. It was Celia’s idea. We would call and urge each other to show up, because we all hate the class so much.”

  After a pause, Nancy interjected, “If anyone of us chooses not to come, then she has to drive everyone here the next time.” Their carpooling explained why there were only two cars in the parking lot when we arrived: one for Julie, and one for Katherine, Nancy, and Lois.

  “Celia will be driving next time,” Katherine said. Her eyes were shut. She had perhaps decided to let our little exchange pass. Then again, if her grad assistant’s assessment of her personality were accurate, she’d merely granted me a temporary stay of execution.

  Julie poked her head in. “Hi ya, girls. Having fun?”

  “Sure beats your class,” Lois murmured.

  Julie giggled. “Listen, whoever is the last one out? Don’t forget to turn the sauna all the way off. Okeydokey?”

  Julie left. In an innocent voice, I asked, “Were you at Allison’s service, Lois? I didn’t see you.”

  “No, something came up.” She clenched her jaw, but almost as if she couldn’t quite help herself, she asked me, “Was Joe there?”

  “Yes, with his wife,” I answered “She seemed very nice.”

  “That’s enough hot air for me,” Lois said, promptly getting to her feet “I’m going to take a quick shower before I leave.”

  “Me, too,” Nancy said. She rose, but hesitantly, looking from Katherine to me as if unsure whether or not we should be left with just Lauren to intercede.

  Lauren said, “Actually, this feels kind of nice. I’m going to stay put for a few minutes.”

  “Nancy, don’t we need to be out of here soon so Julie can lock up?” I asked.

  “No, you just need to flick on the alarm switch by the front door and make sure the door is shut securely. It’ll lock behind you.”

  Katherine stood up, holding her towel close around her chest, and followed Nancy out. At the door, she turned back, looked at me, and said, “Don’t stay in here too long. The effects from the heat have a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she said as the door shut. “Have a nice night.”

  After several seconds, Lauren turned to me and said, “That was creepy. Did you do or say something to her to tick her off?” I widened my eyes and put a hand on my chest. “Who, me?” Lauren smiled, and I answered truthfully, “Not that I know of, other than using my writing skills for greeting cards rather than literature.”

  I already felt uncomfortably warm, but sensed that Lauren wanted us to hang out and chat before we had to go home. It was, at least, wonderfully quiet where we were.

  After a long pause, Lauren said, “Tommy said he was going to check into a hotel.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “He thinks I’m stalling on the wedding.”

  “And are you?�
�

  “Yes. But not because I don’t love him. I’m just not sure I can go through it all again. I’d rather stay single than windup in another bad marriage.” She sighed and looked at me for a long moment, then asked the question I’d been dreading. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I think you should decide once and for all whether you’re happier and generally better off with him or without him, then act accordingly.”

  “That’s just it. Most of the time, I am happier when I’m with him. But not always. If we keep dating but never get married, I can still have my time away from him, so that we don’t get stale.”

  “Oh, so you don’t think forty years or so of dating the same person is going to get stale?”

  She laughed, but instantly grew sad. “I keep thinking that if this were right, if I were meant to marry Tommy, I’d know it. I wouldn’t have these doubts.”

  “Lauren, all I can say is you’re a thoughtful person, and you make good, smart choices more often than not Doubts might be a natural by-product of your personality, not of the decision itself.”

  There was a metallic click from the vicinity of the door. Lauren sat upright. “What was that?”

  “Must have been something expanding from the heat, or a board settling.” I was a trifle on edge, but I assured myself I’d spoken the truth, though I also sounded like my mother. Every time there was a strange noise in our house she claimed it was just a board settling, I’d grown up half expecting to come home one day and discover that our tri-level had settled into a ranch home.

  “I think Julie killed Allison,” Lauren said.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Just a feeling. Intuition, I guess. At any rate, I hate her guts. Which are probably pumped as full of silicon as those boobs of hers.”

  “You think they’re fake?”

  “Oh, there’s no doubt about that. It’s just a question of what’ she’s stuffed ‘em with: silicon or helium.”

  I stood up and glanced at the thermostat, which read one hundred eighty degrees. “Well, listen, I’m getting dizzy. I’d better get out of here before I faint.” Lauren, too, rose and pushed against the door. It didn’t budge.