by Morgana Best
“No, um, yes?” She attempted to frown. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m simply here to pay the man for another pair of running shoes,” I told her.
“I see.” She seemed relieved by my statement. “Do you know his name?”
“No, but he is one of the Netherlands running group,” I said with forced patience. “Can you tell me where they are now?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, but we can’t have non-guests wandering around the premises.”
I rubbed my forehead. This was not going at all well. “I have no wish to wander around your premises, trust me,” I said through clenched teeth. “I simply need to find this man and hand him over some money. I can’t imagine he’s brought a second pair of shoes with him to another country. And since my wombat destroyed his shoes, I’m the one who should pay for another pair.”
“What is that box under your arm?” she asked me, narrowing her eyes.
“I’ve brought him a box of chocolates as well.”
She snatched them so quickly I did not have time to react. “Chocolates are forbidden!”
“Could I speak with someone else?” I asked hopefully, and then added, more forcefully, “I’ll need those chocolates back when I leave.”
I thought she would object, but she seemed quite pleased to pass me over to someone else.
“Come with me,” she said with an obvious measure of relief.
She took me back outside, and around a circular pool that had some sort of a fountain in it. It looked like the fountain pool from the Playboy Mansion—not that I had ever been there, mind you. Some people were sitting under purple umbrellas, sipping green drinks. It was certainly a colour clash, and by the way they pursed their lips, they were not enjoying their drinks. I imagined it was probably blended celery and cucumber. I was glad no one had offered me one.
The woman led me over a little wooden bridge and under some frangipanis to where people were doing tai chi. At least, I think it was tai chi, but for all I knew, it could have been Pilates or yoga. She guided me past those people to a woman in a white suit. “This lady wants to pay one of the Dutch guys for his shoes,” she said.
I shook my head. “That’s not quite right.”
The woman in the white suit looked me up and down. “Are you here for a colonic?” I shook my head, but before I could speak, she said, “In your case, I must suggest a course of colonics. Your hair has an unnatural sheen to it.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered. More loudly, I said, “I’m not here to be a victim—oops sorry, I mean a guest. I’m here because my wombat ate a running shoe belonging to one of your Dutch guests, and I’m here to pay him for a new pair of shoes.”
She exchanged glances with the first woman. “Did you mention a wombat?”
I nodded. “My name is Goldie Bloom. I have a pet wombat named Persnickle. He hates the colour orange. He chased the Dutch runners when they were running past my house. He managed to catch the slowest one, and he ate his orange shoe. Is that clear?”
“No, not at all,” the woman said. “Why are you here?”
I tried to make it as simple as I could. “I am responsible for the destruction of one of the Dutch runner’s shoes. I am here to give him some money so he can buy another pair of shoes. Does that make sense?”
The woman nodded. “Perfect sense. Why didn’t you say so the first time? Simone, take her to the Dutch runners.”
Simone looked quite put out. “But, but,” she sputtered, but the other woman waved her arm.
“Hurry along, Simone. I’m about to take the meditation class. The Dutch people are in the juice bar.”
I followed a rather put-out Simone back through the grounds, and we went into a different part of the building. This was absolutely luxurious. Gorgeous vanilla-scented candles adorned the room. The expensive white furniture contrasted beautifully with the polished wooden floors and walls. The wide glass windows afforded a beautiful view of the lush lawns and tropical gardens. For a moment, I almost thought it would be worth coming here, until I rounded the corner and came upon the juice bar.
Two women were drinking the familiar green juice and clutching their throats.
“Come on, drink it up! It’s good for you,” Simone urged them.
“But I don’t like the taste of blended cucumber and celery,” one woman complained.
“You need an alkaline system,” Simone said. “If you drink lots of this, you won’t need so many colonics.”
Without any further exhortation, both women held their noses and downed their glasses in one gulp.
I walked past them to the bar, where the Dutch runners were sitting, drinking red juice. They all looked happy. Considering they were all wearing orange, I was glad I hadn’t bought Persnickle with me, not that he would have been allowed in such a place.
When they saw me, they did a double take. “It is her!” the closest Dutch person said.
I pulled out the cash and held it in front of me. “I’m so sorry about your shoe,” I said to the crowd. I couldn’t tell which one the victim was, considering they were all wearing orange and were all about the same age. “Which one of you, um, had the eaten shoe?”
One of them stepped forward. “It was me, wild Australian woman,” he said. “Your monster ate my shoe.”
I hurried to apologise. “I’m so dreadfully sorry,” I said. “Here is some money to replace your shoe.”
“But I will need two shoes,” he said in a plaintive tone.
I nodded vigorously. “Of course! Of course! Will this be enough money to pay for a pair of shoes?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Two shoes?”
I nodded. “Will this be enough money to buy two shoes?”
He looked at the money, and then looked at the man standing next to him. He took the money and flipped through it, and then said, “Yes. Good amount of money.” He grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Thank you, wild Australian woman.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. I made to go, but someone tapped my arm. “Could we please have a selfie with you?”
I thought that a strange request but complied. After all, I was relieved that the man hadn’t pressed charges, what with Persnickle knocking him down and eating his shoe.
I posed with each Dutch runner in turn, and then walked back to Simone. “Could you show me the way back to the parking area from here?” I asked. “And I must get those chocolates.”
She was staring at me strangely.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Can I have your autograph?”
I thought I had misheard, so I said, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Can I have your autograph? I’m so sorry I didn’t recognise you at first. I can see now you’re wearing a wig.”
My hand flew to my hair.
“Yes I am, but I’m not sure what you mean by not recognising me. Have we ever met?”
“You don’t know?” She looked at me askance. “But you’re an internet sensation!”
“I’m sorry. You must have me mixed up with someone else,” I said with a shrug. “I’m a little bit disorientated as to the layout of this facility as it’s so big. May I have my chocolates back, and then can you direct me to the car park?”
“I’ll take you there in person,” she gushed, “but please give me your autograph.”
“Sure.” Clearly, the woman was crazed, and wasn’t going let me out of there until I gave her an autograph. I pulled a notepad from my handbag along with a pen and scrawled, ‘Best wishes, Goldie Bloom,’ and handed it to the woman.
“Thank you,” she said, when I handed it to her. “Can we have a selfie?”
“Sure.” Clearly, this woman had had one too many celery juices and one too many colonics.
“What a shame you’re not wearing your green mask and the rollers in your hair.”
I went cold all over. “How did you know about that?”
“You’re an internet
sensation,” she said again. She took a step back and shot me a long, hard look. “You really don’t know, do you? It’s all over YouTube, and it’s gone viral.”
My breath caught in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“Come with me.”
I followed her back to the reception desk, where she fished an iPad out from under the counter. She tapped the screen, and then slid the iPad across the desk to me.
The first thing I saw was the heading, “Wild Australian mud woman with native monster attacking runner.” It showed a picture of me chasing Persnickle who was chasing the runner. For all the world, it looked like I was chasing the runner. My green French Green Clay mask was thickly plastered all over my face, and most of the rollers had already fallen off, leaving bits of hair sticking out.
I put my face in my hands. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it,” I moaned.
“I told you, it’s gone viral,” she said. “It’s had over fifty million views.” She took the iPad back and tapped away at the screen.
“What are you doing?” I asked her. I was simply mortified.
“I’m just typing your name in the comments,” she said. “Everyone will be thrilled to know your name.”
The room spun, and I thought I would faint.
Chapter 9
“Sorry, what did you say?” We were back in Oleander’s apartment. I was distracted, wondering what had happened to Max. Apart from the brief text, I hadn’t heard from him, but then again, I hadn’t really expected to do so.
“I asked if you had any ideas as to how you could approach Georgia Garrison,” Oleander said.
“I must admit I’m fresh out of ideas,” Athanasius added.
“Well, since the vet clinic has shut down until it’s sold to a new vet, I don’t know where I would find her.”
“At her house, of course,” Oleander said.
I shook my head. “I don’t feel comfortable going to her house. What would I say to her?”
Oleander rubbed her forehead. “That’s precisely what we are trying to figure out.”
We all lapsed into silence once more. Oleander was the first to speak. “I know! Why don’t you tell her that you lost a charm from your charm bracelet at the vet clinic, and ask her to contact you if she finds it.”
I thought that sounded quite tenuous, and said so. “For a start, I don’t have a charm bracelet, and wouldn’t she find it strange that I went to her house to ask that?” I said.
“Not at all.” Athanasius shook his head vigorously. “It’s a small town and all that. Everyone knows everyone else, so she wouldn’t think it at all strange that you went to her house.”
Oleander chimed in. “Especially not over something as valuable as a charm bracelet.” She jumped to her feet and waved her finger at me. “I’ll be right back.”
Oleander returned with a heavy gold bracelet which she pushed onto my wrist before I could object. “Say you’re missing a heart charm. Tell her it has great sentimental value or something like that.”
“This makes me uneasy,” I admitted. “What if she’s annoyed with me? And what if she says she will look for the charm bracelet but doesn’t tell me anything else about the vet?”
“It will be up to you to keep the conversation going,” Oleander said.
I shook my head. “I’m not good at that sort of thing,” I told her. “I just can’t blurt out questions such as asking her if the vet had any enemies, now can I?”
“Whatever works.” Athanasius looked up at me and smiled.
And so, minutes later, I was driving to Georgia’s house, having left Persnickle in the care of Athanasius and Oleander.
The house was a pretty shade of blue-green, which contrasted rather horribly with the alternating cream and mission brown pickets on the front fence and the chartreuse Colorbond fence that ran the length of the driveway.
There was a car in her driveway, so I figured she was home. This seemed like a bad idea to me, but if the alternative was spending a few days in the Southport watchhouse, then I was going to have to tighten my resolve and go through with it.
I walked to the door, the charm bracelet jangling. The house had been renovated rather nicely. The outdoor furniture was set off by the wide verandas with their polished boards. I inhaled the heady scent of jasmine.
I knocked once and heard movement inside. Presently, the door opened. “You!” she said.
It wasn’t quite the welcome I had been hoping for.
I launched straight into my speech. “So sorry to bother you, Georgia, but I’ve discovered I lost my heart charm from my charm bracelet.” I lifted up my arm and jangled the charm bracelet in front of her face. “I’m really distressed that I lost it.”
She opened the door wider. “Does it have sentimental value?”
“It sure does,” I said. “Do you know the price of gold per ounce right now? I lost it somewhere at the clinic. I was hoping you could keep an eye out for it.”
“Sure.” I was afraid she was going to shut the door and I was going to have to blurt out a question, but to my surprise, she invited me inside. “Come in.”
The polished floorboards inside were less attractive, and darker, than their exterior counterparts. One wall was painted dark green, and heavy cream curtains hung beside the opened windows.
I sat on the old, cracked, vinyl sofa, narrowly managing to avoid several cats stretched out across the length of it. One of them, a Chinchilla, fixed me with a steely glare for daring to sit in his spot. “Beautiful,” I said.
“They’re all rescues,” she said. “Would you like a cold drink?”
“Yes, please.”
When Georgia returned, she handed me a tall glass of lemonade. “You’d never met Chase Evans before, had you?”
“No, never,” I said.
She looked me up and down. “I suppose you didn’t kill him then.”
I was shocked at her forthright manner, but said, “No. Did you?”
She, in turn, looked shocked, but she said, “I was having an affair with him. I knew it would hurt his wife if she found out, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t care. I’ve never put myself first. I had to look after both my parents before they passed away after long illnesses, so thought it was about time I put myself first. I was in love with him, you see. I knew it would hurt other people, but I didn’t care. That makes it sound horrible, but I really didn’t care.”
She paused to wipe her eyes with a tissue. “I was hoping he would leave his wife for me one day. I used to enjoy it when he said unpleasant things about Bree and the bad time she was giving him. I don’t think he was in love with her, so I don’t know why they stayed together. I used to drop hints about him leaving her, but he never seemed to take the hint. They didn’t have any kids, so I wasn’t hurting any children. Did the police give you a hard time at the questioning?”
“Yes, they did. And you?”
She nodded. “Yes, it was fairly bad. I admitted that I was having an affair with Chase because I knew they’d find out sooner or later. I’m sure they think I did it.”
“Actually, I think they think I did it,” I told her, “but they’ll have the gunshot residue tests back in a week and then they’ll know it wasn’t us.”
“It could have been Adrian Young, the other vet nurse,” she said. “Chase found out he’d been stealing, only small amounts at first, from the cash register, and he was about to confront him. And then…” Her voice broke.
“Can you think of anyone else who had a reason to kill him?” I asked her.
“I shoplifted a bra when I was eighteen and living in Melbourne,” she said. “My friends dared me to do it. I was a student, so didn’t have much money, but I wouldn’t have stolen it for that reason. I did it because they dared me. Also, my stepfather left me an inheritance when I was nineteen. I blew through it in just five weeks. It wasn’t a major inheritance as such, but it was enough. I spent it all on make-up, clothes, that sort of thing. It makes me look back and shudder.”<
br />
She blew her nose loudly before continuing. “I stole a neglected dog and forged the owner’s signature on the microchip form and then found a good home for the dog. I hid her first and nursed her back to health. That’s a criminal offence.” She went on with a catalogue of her sins, but none of them had anything to do with the vet.
“Did you kill him?” I asked again.
Once more, she did not answer directly. Instead, she said, “I was in love with him.”
I silently berated myself for not making the truth spell focused. It was certainly working, but not in the way in which I had intended it to work.
“I’ve thought of a list of suspects, and there is his wife, as well as Adrian, and Nico North, his running buddy.”
“Running buddy?” I said. This was the first I had heard of any running buddy. Perhaps it was Chase’s previously mentioned best friend.
“Nico wouldn’t have done it, though,” she continued. “The two of them were childhood friends. They were very competitive with each other.” She sighed long and hard. “They were both training for the upcoming race. Chase always beat Nico in races, but I’m sure no one’s ever murdered anyone for that reason.”
I had to agree. “Can you think of anyone else?” I asked her, fully aware that she had not given me a direct answer to my question.
“Well, there were several pet owners who weren’t too happy with Chase,” she said slowly. “Chase did overcharge quite badly on some occasions. He usually made sure he did that to people who could afford it, although I think he slipped up once or twice. He would never admit to his mistakes.”
“Can you think of the names of any of these pet owners off the top of your head?” I asked her.
She pursed her lips. “No, not really, only Mabel Wraith. She was by far the most vocal. She often came into the clinic and made a big public scene. The other owners who were annoyed with Chase just sent him rude emails or said a few words when they came to pay their bills, but no, no one was angry like Mabel Wraith.”