Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 (12 page)

W
e got
off the elevator on the ninth floor where the spa was located. Stepping through the frosted-glass double doors, we entered into the peaceful Zen world of the Heaven’s Gate Spa. Soft melodies and soothing scents infused the air, and the muted grays and soft greens of the furnishings added to the tranquil environment.

“Welcome, ladies. May I assist you with your visit this afternoon?”

“Hello. We don’t have an appointment.” The receptionist’s serene expression puckered, but before she could scold us for being so presumptuous as to appear before her unannounced, she spied the VIP passes I had discreetly removed from my handbag and now held casually in front of me.

“Oh, of course. If you would like to review our list of services, I will be more than happy to arrange a schedule for your afternoon.”

We had already decided on luxury relaxation massages with facials, and I informed Alina—I could read her gold name badge now—of this. She scribbled something on two green tickets, handed them to me, and instructed us to follow the long hallway to its end, turn right, and enter the main salon at the end of the corridor. From there we would be greeted by a personal attendant who would give us a complete tour of the facilities.

I was already feeling the tension drain from my body as we made our way down the quiet hall. About halfway down, we passed a floor-to-ceiling water feature; its hypnotizing, gentle rippling began to soothe my jangled nerves right away. At the end of the hall, we came to a stop in front of a wall covered in glossy river rock. To the left and right of the rock wall were identical frosted glass doors leading to separate private wings, presumably one for women and one for men.

“June, does it say anything on your ticket about which door we should enter?”

“There’s a number at the top, G-135. That’s about it. What about yours?”

I looked closely at the green ticket in my hand. “Mine says G-136. Seems pretty generic to me.”

“Wait. Look closely, Francie. There are letters etched into the glass. The left one has a
D
, and the right one has a
G
. Didn’t the receptionist say to turn right?”

“I’m not sure if she meant the hallway or the door. Let’s go right.
G
probably stands for girls, don’t you think?”

“Sounds good to me.” June opened the door and in we went.

“Oh, look at this amazing hot spring pool.”

I looked over to the raised marble platform just in time to see a man, facing away from us, getting ready to step down into the steamy tub. He dropped the towel around his waist and lowered himself into the water. There was absolutely nothing between his skin and the swirling, steaming water. Did we run? Scream? Laugh? Oddly, no; we continued walking down the hall as if it were a perfectly mundane scene. It wasn’t until we encountered a second gentleman—thankfully, this one was wearing a spa robe—coming out of the locker room that it dawned on me something was amiss.

“Since when did they start letting women into this wing of the spa?”  the robe-clad man asked.

Another gentleman, this one fully clothed in neatly pressed, spa-employee attire, approached us, took both of us by the elbow, and escorted us back the way we had come, politely pointing out that the ladies’ wing was down the hall. Once alone outside, we stood there for a beat before crumpling into a fit of wheezing laughter that brought tears to my eyes and folded June over at the waist.

“What the heck just happened? Why didn’t we turn and bolt after seeing hot-tub guy?” I had to wipe my eyes and take a deep breath before I could continue. “I think my brain must be fried.”

“We both acted like it was the most natural thing in the world,” June added.

“It actually was the most natural thing in the world. I’m just glad those guys didn’t make a big deal of it. It could have been really embarrassing.”

June gave me a look. “I’m pretty sure this qualifies as pretty embarrassing.”

“Well, I think the doors should have been more clearly marked. Those letters were hard to see and pretty ambiguous at that. If G doesn’t stand for girls, what is it then? And what does the
D
stand for?”

June’s eyebrows came together as she thought aloud. “Gabriel and Damien? Obviously not. Girls and Dudes? We know that can’t be it. I’ve got it. Gents and Dames.”

“I guess that makes sense, but why didn’t they just use nice standard labels like Men and Women? Serves them right if there are mix-ups. I’m sure we weren’t the first ones to make that mistake.”

We were given a thorough tour of the women’s facility by a lovely Russian girl named Polina who spoke in the distinctive accent of so many of Devil’s Island’s employees. After showing us the wide array of hair and nail services, hot and cold pools, steam rooms, and saunas, Polina led us through the locker room with private changing rooms and into the spacious waiting area. She recited the names of all the hot and cold beverages on hand and told us to help ourselves to fresh fruit arranged in silver bowls on a long table against the wall. Before she left, she handed us a menu card with an extensive list of the other food and drink options available. All we had to do, she told us, was pick up the phone on the side table and make our request.

We had about an hour to kill before our massages were scheduled. Snuggled in our fluffy white robes, we opted out of using the naked pools and whatnot and decided to check out the snack menu.

“How does sushi and chardonnay sound?”

I looked up from my menu. “You read my mind, June. You know what they say about great minds thinking alike.” June’s smile was bright and genuine as she placed our order. She grabbed a shiny, green apple, sunk into a comfy upholstered chair and stretched her legs out in front of her. She was the picture of relaxation, at least for now. I was curled up in the corner of the couch with my legs tucked under me. I could feel the tension of the last day and a half evaporating.

“This was a much better idea than attending a lecture on period hairstyles, don’t you think?”

“Most definitely. Now maybe we can relax, clear our minds, and come up with an explanation of why the cops keep hounding you.” June took another bite of her apple and chewed slowly, deep in thought.

“Where do we start? Bob is hounding us from beyond the grave. I’m afraid to find out why he had a box full of creepy surveillance photos in his house. And how does Eddie fit into this picture?”

“And I’m getting the sense that there are things we don’t know about our hosts. For starters, why were Angelina and Damien at Bob’s house in the first place?”

“We were there too.”

“Then Angelina shows up in the burning beach office just in time to pass out.”

“Plus, I was shot at. Twice.” I didn’t want to give in to my frustration, because that would defeat the whole purpose of being here, and since we weren’t getting any closer to putting the puzzle pieces together, I decided to check out the fruit bowl across the room. I hadn’t taken two steps toward the counter when I nearly had a head-on collision with the person delivering our snacks.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” we said in unison. I recognized that soft Russian voice immediately. “Sasha! It’s you again. Do you work everywhere in this resort?”

“I go wherever I am told. We are trained in many jobs to prevent problems if someone cannot work their assigned schedule. I’ll just leave this tray here. Enjoy your stay, ladies.” And with that she was gone.

“I guess her explanation makes sense, but these surprise appearances of hers are just adding to the feeling that we’re missing something.” As I tried to quiet my running internal monologue, I fixed a plate of sushi, poured a glass of wine, grabbed a napkin, and returned to my spot on the couch. June followed suit, tossing her apple core in the trash and piling her plate with as much as it could hold before pouring herself a glass of the perfectly chilled chardonnay.

This was more like it. We relaxed in the luxurious lounge, savoring the delicious California rolls and enjoying a second glass of wine. I needed to remember the name and vintage so I could purchase another bottle or two when I got back home. I was thinking I might close my eyes for a few minutes, when a soft voice spoke, and I realized I had indeed dozed off. It was an attendant coming to collect June and escort her to her masseuse. The pretty, dark-haired girl informed me that my personal assistant would be by momentarily, and before she and June were out of the room, my eyelids were growing heavy once more and sleep was beckoning to me. I welcomed the invitation to catch up on some much-needed rest and gave in without resistance. The lilting voice that woke me for the second time was a now-familiar one. When I opened my eyes, Sasha stood in front of me holding out her hand to escort me to my appointment.

“Miss Francesca, if you will come with me, I will show you to your room. There has been a slight change in the schedule, but not to worry. Oksana will take excellent care of you. She is the best therapist in the entire spa.”

I followed my guide down the long, quiet hall like an obedient puppy, still a little groggy from my interrupted nap and that extra glass of afternoon wine. All the doors had matching whiteboards attached to the outside. About halfway down, we passed a closed door with a
Reserved for our VIP Guest
magnet affixed to the whiteboard. Below the magnet, written in a flourishing cursive hand, was June’s name. The next door had an identical magnet, and underneath the VIP tag was my name written in the same fancy script. I stopped and was about to go inside when Sasha directed me to a room further down the hall with no magnet and no name on its door.

“We passed my room, Sasha. My name is on the door right next to June’s room.”

“Yes, as I mentioned, there was a slight schedule change and you will be with Oksana in this room. You should be honored. She only works with our best customers. Relax and enjoy your time here.” She ushered me into the well-appointed room and left me to undress and slip under the silky sheets to await the arrival of the wonderful Oksana.

I was not disappointed. For the next hour, I gave in to the magic of her hands, breathing in the soothing smells of essential oils, listening to cerebral music, and giving my tight muscles over to the restorative strokes of my therapist’s expert touch. Of course, it couldn’t last.

June’s frantic voice startled both Oksana and me. I popped up from the massage table, wrapped myself in the sheet, and bolted out the door. The yelling was coming from the room that had my name on it.

“What’s going on? What’s the matter? What happened?”

June was standing next to a woman I had never seen before, but her dark curly hair looked disturbingly familiar. Her hands were at her throat, and she was wheezing.

June zipped past me and into the hall. “Did you see anyone come out of the room? A man?”

She was straining her eyes in the direction from which I had come.

“No, I didn’t see anyone. What’s going on in here?”

June looked from the stranger to me. “I’m not sure, exactly, but I got here just in time.”

The lady with the bouncy brown curls regained her composure, slipped into her complimentary robe, grabbed her clothes, and stopped long enough to lock eyes with me before leaving the room. “I’m going to find security and report this. That man was not a masseur. If he was, he was awfully rough. He nearly choked me. If your friend hadn’t come in here and startled him, who knows what might have happened.” And with that, she was gone.

For the first time since entering the room, I got a good look at June. She was dressed in her own clothes, and her hair looked amazing. Of course, no one else on the planet could pull off her style, but that’s what made it all the more beguiling. The color was lighter than it had been. It looked like a platinum halo, shimmery little spikes sticking up like mini sparklers tipped in various shades of gold.

“What the heck have you been up to, June? And again, what’s going on in here?”

“Well, when my massage was finished, I was told you got off to a later start, so I decided to take advantage of one other free service.” Her hand went up instinctively to finger her masterful new hairdo.

“I can see that. Whoever styled your hair was a genius. And speaking of hair, did that lady’s hair look just like mine or what?”

“That’s just it, Francie. When I was finished, I came back to find you. I looked in the obvious place—the room with your name on the door—and when no one answered my knock, I peeked inside, only to see some goon with his hands around your neck. Correction: someone who looked an awful lot like you from behind.”

“I was moved to a different room at the last minute. Do you think the guy was really trying to hurt that lady?”

“It looked like it to me. It also looked like he might have mistaken her for someone else.” June’s angelic face was marred by a shadowy veil. I imagine my own face had lost its contented glow too. June followed me back to my reassigned room so I could get out of the sheet and back into my own clothes.

“I think we better talk to Sasha. She must be able to tell us something. Let’s find her right now and get to the bottom of this.”

“I can’t argue, Francie. Sasha has to know something, and she’s going to have to tell us what.”

I finished dressing and checked the mirror. My hair would have to stay in its state of disarray for now. This was war. Well, not technically war, but I was up for a good face-off. June swiped her fingers through her hair, and now it looked more like her version of a warrior headdress than a halo.

We retraced our steps through the facility, popping our heads into the locker room, stepping into the various pool areas, and finally opening the door to the sauna. We found who we were looking for. Sasha was slumped sideways on the cedar bench; she did not appear to be napping.

I shook her, trying to wake her just in case she’d dozed off, but since she was still dressed in her work uniform, this was unlikely. June felt Sasha’s pulse and gently lifted her head, looking for signs of foul play. After determining that she was breathing and was not bleeding, we lifted her from either side and shuffled her out of the hot room. Since there was no place to sit in the hall, we helped her back to the lounge and lowered her onto the sofa. I brought her a cup of water and held it to her lips.