Gossip Can Be Murder

by Connie Shelton

  “No, Señora, all gone.”

  For extra measure, I called out Trudie’s name but this room, too, echoed back at me.

  Back in the corridor, Linda reported that the mud bath and hot tub areas were empty. “I better head to the room and get ready,” she said.

  “Okay, I’ll be along in a minute. I’m going to take the back way and walk around the building once.”

  “Be careful. Walking around by yourself got you into trouble before,” she warned. She turned back the way we’d come.

  I remembered seeing an emergency exit at the far end of the corridor, beyond the ladies locker room, so I went that way. What was I going to do if I found Trudie, anyway? If she’d been the one who attacked me earlier, she’d no doubt try it again.

  Foolishly, I’d left my purse, with the Beretta in it, in our room. I’m in pretty good shape, but against someone with the strength of insanity on her side . . .. I looked around for a weapon but found only a stack of clean towels. I grabbed one, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it. What was I going to do—snap her with it or blindfold her?

  Nevertheless, I took opposite corners of the towel and spun the piece of cloth into a strong whip. The attendant from the locker room came out, her Casa de Tranquilidad smock gone now, her purse over her arm. She gave me a curious stare but didn’t say anything as she walked out.

  The place suddenly felt very quiet and I felt very alone. Just get this over with, Charlie. I headed toward the end of the hall where I’d seen the other exit. Then the lights went out.

  The hairs on my neck bristled. I stopped, blind.

  Chapter 27

  Minutes ticked by in what must have actually been about ten seconds. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. No emergency lighting but faintly, ahead, I could see the glowing green letters of a lighted Exit sign.

  I faced it squarely and edged forward. I could only hope that no one had remembered to lock the door, or I’d have to traverse the whole corridor again to find my way back. I visualized the hall. Aside from the recessed countertop where I’d found my towel weapon, it was long and straight without obstacles. Light switches—I couldn’t remember. But that’s hardly the thing one notices right away. They had to exist. Dropping one end of the towel, I edged to my right and felt for the wall. It wasn’t that far, probably twenty feet, and the tiny green letters actually sent a small glow to guide me. I could do this.

  I hummed a little non-tune to keep myself company but quit when it echoed eerily off the tile walls. Brushing my fingertips lightly along the wall I moved forward, covering a foot at a time. I encountered a doorframe—something I didn’t remember—and my fingers followed the recess across the door itself. I’d just touched the outcrop of the molding on the other side when a loud thump rattled the door.

  I jumped back from it, a scream forming in my throat and coming out as a squeak.

  Every logical thought told me to run, but I envisioned myself bouncing off the walls like the metal ball in a pinball machine, unable to get to my destination. I skittered frantically away from the door.

  Another loud bump, then two, three, four.

  “Who’s in there?” I shouted. My voice careened off the tile.

  I edged away and felt the opposite wall against my back. The echo of my words died away, leaving my raspy breath as the only sound. I forced myself to calm down, to breathe through my nose.

  As my own noises died away I caught a faint voice. “Help me,” it called.

  Oh god, what was going on here?

  Two more bumps and again, “Help!”

  Not in the dark, I swore. If this is a trap, I want to at least see it before I walk into it. I extended both hands, feeling the wall behind me, edging always closer to the exit sign. At last, I encountered a double switch.

  I rammed both switches upward. And blinded myself.

  My eyes slammed shut against the cruel glare of fluorescent light on white tile. I cupped both hands over my face for additional protection.

  Gradually, through slotted fingers I eased my eyes open and scanned the corridor. Empty, as before. Across from me, the door I’d touched was labeled with a small sign that said Employees Only. Another bump came from it, this one seemingly fainter than before.

  Again, the voice, muffled. “Help me.” It sounded feeble and not nearly so frightening anymore.

  I lowered my hands and walked toward it. My towel-weapon lay nearby. I must have flung it away in my panic. I tiptoed to the door and listened.

  “Who’s in there?” By keeping my voice low, the horrible echo was minimal.

  The answer came as a scraping noise on the floor. I tried the doorknob. Locked. Now what?

  “Wait,” I said. As if this person had any choice. “I’ll be right back.”

  I rushed back to the reception area, flipping on more lights along the way. The desk consisted of a long granite top with two shallow drawers under it and banks of deeper drawers in columns on either side of the swivel chair. I yanked open the two shallow drawers first and was rewarded with the sight of a small compartmented tray that contained a ring of keys and a few loose ones. I grabbed them all.

  As an extra measure, I also took a box cutter with a lethal looking razor blade concealed in a heavy metal handle.

  Feeling considerably braver now, I approached the unknown door again.

  “I’m back,” I said. “I’m going to see if any of these keys work, so just be patient.”

  The answer came as a small scraping sound.

  I glanced through the loose keys first, discarding them when they all appeared to be the small type used for filing cabinets. The keyring gave more choices, with several that could work on doors. I tried two before I came to the one that worked. I operated it with my left hand, pulling the box cutter out of my pocket with the right.

  A prone figure lay face-down on the floor of the small supply closet, wrists and ankles bound with rope, hair matted over the face, clothing covered with dust. I retracted the blade on my weapon and stuck it back into my pocket.

  “It’s okay now,” I murmured. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  I knelt beside the dirt-covered form and rolled it toward me.

  It was Trudie.

  Chapter 28

  Her eyes squinted tightly against the light and she groaned when I touched her.

  “What happened, Trudie?” I asked. “Who put you here?”

  Her mouth worked for a moment, then went slack. I felt her neck and found a fluttery pulse at her carotid artery. I tried to roll her onto her back but the closet was too tight. I’d have to get her out of here. I backed out of the tiny room and grabbed the rope at her ankles. She probably outweighed me by twenty pounds and the dead weight didn’t make the job any easier.

  Inch by inch, with a grip on her ankles, I dragged her out of the confinement of the closet. She wore an old, ratty running suit and sneakers so once I got the bulk of her body past the concrete floor in the closet and onto the smooth tile in the corridor she slid along much more easily. I rolled my former towel-weapon to form a pillow and cushioned her head with it, then I took the box cutter and cut away the ropes from her wrists and ankles.

  Her breathing seemed shallow but steady. I grabbed another towel from the alcove and dampened it with cold water from the locker room. As I dabbed the cold towel on her forehead and temples, she stirred slightly and began to murmur. She didn’t look like quite such a formidable enemy now.

  “Trudie, it’s Charlie. You’re okay.”

  Mumbled words that didn’t make any sense.

  “Trudie, stay right here. I’m going to get help.”

  The nearest phone was at the reception desk. I’d left my cell in the room. I left Trudie on the floor with the cold towel on her forehead and rushed to the desk. What to do? I remembered the smelling salts Linda had used to bring me around. I’d try calling her first. With any luck maybe she hadn’t already left for the meditation session.

  She answered on the first ring.
“Hey, where are you?” she asked.

  “I never made it out of the spa. I found Trudie. She needs medical attention. Can you come or should I call an ambulance?” I gave her a quick description of Trudie’s condition.

  “I’ll come. Give me three minutes. I just stepped out of the shower.”

  “You’re a doll. I’ll wait with her in the corridor outside the locker rooms.”

  I unlocked the main door and returned to the hallway. Trudie was lying where I’d left her, thrashing restlessly as if in a bad dream. I knelt beside her.

  “Trudie, Trudie, calm down. Help is coming.”

  I stroked her arm and repositioned the wet towel, which had slipped.

  She murmured something I couldn’t understand.

  “What, Trudie? What happened?”

  More restless movement.

  “Who did this?” I slapped lightly at the back of her hand. “Who were you meeting in the parking lot? Who left you that note?”

  At the mention of the note and the parking lot, she mumbled louder. It was like she was still far away but had somehow come a little closer to me. I pressed the advantage.

  “Trudie, come on, tell me who you went to see.”

  A mumbled word came out.

  “Say it again, Trudie. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Dav—David.” More mumbled words came, something I took to mean “I went to meet David.”

  Puzzling. I thought he was at Drake’s deposition. I repeated his name and she nodded ever so slightly.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’ve got help coming.” I could hear sounds in the reception area now. “Back here, Linda,” I called out.

  A commotion sounded behind me and I looked over my shoulder to see Linda, wearing hastily donned sweats and a T-shirt and carrying her medical bag. Shirley bustled along behind her, dressed for the evening’s social gathering in a gauzy purple skirt and beaded purple top. She’d fluffed her curly brown hair and even added a touch of lipstick.

  Without a word, Linda knelt beside Trudie. She felt for a pulse and ran her hands along the sides of Trudie’s face and neck, much as she’d done for me. Trudie’s eyes began to flutter open. I stood up and backed out of the way.

  “Can you hear me?” Linda asked. “Do you feel pain anywhere?” Her expert hands continued to examine, checking her patient’s arms and legs as she spoke.

  “No, I . . .” Trudie croaked. “Water—”

  “In a minute,” Linda said. She turned to me. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  “I’ll get it,” Shirley offered. She headed toward the reception area and returned a minute later with a small paper cup.

  By this time Trudie had managed to sit up and she took the water gratefully. Her hands and face looked grimy with dirt from the closet floor and her hair stuck out in wild gray tangles. She appeared shaken and groggy—drugged?

  Shirley found a wicker chair with a soft flowered cushion in the hot tub area and brought it into the hall. Linda and I took Trudie by the upper arms and helped her rise and get to it. She flopped onto the seat. I motioned Linda aside.

  “What now?” I whispered. “Should we get an ambulance?”

  “All they would do is take her to the hospital where she’d be admitted overnight for observation. I can do the same thing here, if she’ll let me,” she said. “Let’s give her a few minutes to compose herself and I’ll ask her.”

  I sneaked a look at my watch. Six-fifteen. No wonder Shirley seemed restless; Dr. Light would be well into his meditation session by now and here were three of their attendees, sidetracked. They’d made such a big deal of the special evening, I knew the size of the crowd would be important to them.

  Linda knelt beside Trudie, talking quietly to her. The patient looked better, a bit of color had come into her face now, although she still wasn’t talking much. In Trudie’s case that could be somewhat worrisome.

  “Shirley, could you arrange for some soup to be sent to Trudie’s room in about thirty minutes?” Linda asked. She looked to her patient for confirmation and got a small nod. “I’m going to sit with her for awhile and get her settled in for the night.”

  “I’m due back in Albuquerque tonight,” I said, knowing this delay would set me back. “I’ll help you get everything arranged before I head out.”

  Shirley didn’t look terribly happy about the loss of three participants, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She bustled away to handle her part of it.

  “Come on, Trudie,” Linda coaxed, “we’re going to get you to your room.”

  She stood shakily and we slowly headed out.

  A few minutes later, with Linda and Trudie settled into the room next door, I tossed clothes into my duffle. The experiences of this week had been interesting, to say the least, but I wouldn’t be sad to see the last of Santa Fe for awhile. I planned to take a quick shower to wash off the closet grime, then pop in to say goodbye to Linda and to encourage Trudie to file charges against David for assault.

  For my own part, I would phone the Santa Fe police on Monday and give them what I knew about David Ratwill and Robert Stanworthy. They could do with it as they wished.

  Right on cue, I heard a sharp knock on the door to Trudie’s room. “Room service,” the voice called.

  I stripped down and stepped into the shower. My spirits lifted as I soaped off the dust from the supply closet and fantasized about being at home again.

  By the time I’d dried my hair, put on fresh jeans and sweater, and packed the last of my toiletries, I figured Linda and Trudie would be finished with their light supper. I phoned Drake and got voice mail. I left a message that I’d be on the road within fifteen minutes.

  Leaving my bags in the room, I walked next door and rapped lightly at Room 14. C’mon, c’mon, I thought, tapping my foot. I knocked again, louder. “Linda, it’s me.” A frisson of unease shivered down my spine.

  “Linda! Trudie! Open up!” Nothing.

  I looked up and down the hall. Nothing seemed out of place. Where had they gone? Linda would not take off without telling me. At the very least she would have left a message on our phone.

  I let myself back into Room 12 and found the card key I’d gotten earlier for the other one. Something told me to take along my gun and I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans. Every nerve ending went taut as I stuck the key into Trudie’s lock.

  My eyes scanned the room and I knew my fears were justified. Linda’s medical bag had fallen off the desk; stethoscope and vials spilled over the carpet. The room service tray lay on its side against the table’s legs. Thick bean soup ran down one wall, the bowl smashed in shards on the floor below. The lick of fear at my spine congealed into a hard place low in my gut.

  I grabbed the phone, punched 9-1-1. “Two women have been abducted. Get the police here now!” I held on just long enough to confirm that they had the address before I slammed the instrument down and dashed out of the room.

  Which way did they go? I debated for a second and decided to try the rear exit, the one to the courtyard. I’d just reached the end of the hall when I heard a noise behind me.

  Chapter 29

  I whirled, reaching for my gun.

  Gerald Mayhew’s eyes grew large as he spotted me. I quickly concealed the weapon. “Gerald! Quick, come with me. I can use some help.”

  He glanced back once and walked toward me slowly.

  “Linda and Trudie are gone,” I said, my breath coming in quick bursts.

  He raised his shoulders in a small shrug.

  “It’s David Ratwill. He’s got them.”

  Puzzlement and anger crossed his face at the same time but he jogged the remaining length of the hall.

  “It happened within the last ten minutes,” I said, shoving open the door to the courtyard. “I’m hoping they haven’t gone far.”

  Soft landscaping lights highlighted rocks and trees within the short adobe wall. Beyond that, dusk faded to black.

  Suspecting that they’d
head for a vehicle, I told Gerald I’d take the parking lot and I sent him to check the lobby. “Don’t get physical with him,” I cautioned. “I don’t know what he’ll do. If you can, just keep him there until the police arrive.” I trotted toward the parking area, leaving Gerald looking like he wasn’t quite sure what he’d gotten into.

  As I passed the low adobe wall I couldn’t help but look over it, at the place where Rita had gone down. It had to be David. I’d known from the beginning that there was something off when he’d showed up here. Poor Rita had known he was a threat to her, yet she’d been unable to do anything about it. Now he had Linda and Trudie and there was no telling what desperate measures he might take. I scanned the dark slope, looking for any sign of movement. In the deepening gloom I could make out only the dark blobs of trees and occasional tufts of yellow-blooming chamisa.

  On toward the parking area I kept up a quick jog, trying to look every direction, watching for motion in the shadows and possible hiding places. The path narrowed, lit only by small sidewalk lights every twenty feet or so.

  The overhead lighting in the parking lot was adequate for a person to locate a car, but hardly enough for me to tell whether someone was hiding out here. I skirted the edge, wary of another trap, watching for movement. At the far end of the second row I spotted a woman getting into a car.

  “Joanne!” I ran up to her. “Can you help me?” I quickly gave her the same version I’d given Gerald. “We’ve got lots of ground to cover. Can you help me check out this side and the front of the building?”

  Bless her, she didn’t question me. She tossed her purse into her car, locked it, pocketed the keys and followed my lead. We edged the rest of the parking area, then headed down the long driveway that led from Casa de Tranquilidad to the main road. Small landscape lights shone up into some of the trees; otherwise it had become pitch dark out here. I wished that I’d thought to find a flashlight to bring. Joanne and I took opposite sides of the wide drive, alert for any sign of movement out in the blackness. How far could they have gone?