Lewis & Ondarko - Best Friends 03 - Now and Zen (15 page)

She pulled out her notebook and made a note to herself to station more volunteers at the dock for the duration of the retreat.

“Did you hear about the missing woman?” the truck driver asked.

“I did,” Deb answered, as she helped the woman lift large boxes of produce into the back of the truck.

“Did they figure it out yet?”

“As a matter of fact, they’re still trying to determine if it was a mistake or not.”

“I heard that someone jumped.”

“That’s always a good story. But I’m hoping not,” Deb replied soberly. She looked at the clock on her phone.

“I have to get to my writing workshop. Thanks for the ride.”

I hope Pat is there already,
she thought as she hurried towards town.

Deb walked quickly over to the picnic tables set up on the patio outside the Bell Street Tavern, relieved to see that Pat was already handing out papers and pens to several women.

She was glad to see so many women attending and hurried to catch up.

“I am Pat, and this is my late friend, Deb. For the next few hours, we are going to help you harness your creativity and discover that you really can write, and we’re not going to waste any time getting started. We’re going to jump right in, because that is the best way to overcome any fears we may have about our ability. Deb, here, is going to read you the beginning of a short story and you will have just six minutes to finish the story… remember that you can be or do anything in this story. Let your imaginations go wild. Take it away, Deb.”

Deb shot Pat a grateful look and picked up the outline from the table and read the story of a woman and a box aloud in a clear, loud voice.

“Ready, ladies, pick up your pens and finish the story,” Deb concluded. She watched the scene as each woman hesitated briefly and then began to scribble frantically on the papers before them.

This is what a writing workshop is supposed to do,
Deb thought with satisfaction, noticing the women growing in confidence before her eyes as they wrote enthusiastically the entire time allotted.

Invigorated by the success of their workshop as evidenced by the eager sharing of their writings by the participants, Pat and Deb sat in the cabin with their friends afterwards, a pitcher of Vodka Slushes close at hand.

“Well, we made it through our first day!”

Deb raised her glass.

“I had one hundred-fifty people at my two art sessions,” Noreen said. “It was crazy, but nobody complained.” Noreen took a long sip. “Man, this tastes good.” And to think a year ago, I couldn’t taste anything.

“You won’t believe who talked to me while I was having a massage,” Deb said.

“You had a massage in the same room with someone else? Eeww!” Carolyn said.

“What?” Pat teased. “Did LeSeur and his buddies stage a raid at Lotta’s?”

“Nothing that good. I met this really angry woman having a massage next to me.”

“Oh, that was relaxing,” Pat said.

“Why was she angry?” Noreen asked.

“Oh, you know,” Deb said. “Her husband was screwing around.”

“Ow,” Linda said.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Deb said. “He was doing it with the other woman in her bedroom, and she caught the woman in her own bath towel.”

“Eeww,” they all said together.

“That’s quite a drama,” Pat said. “What did you say to her?”

“Oh, just sympathy and all that. After all, I was in massage bliss from the hot rocks. And I was more struck by the woman’s attitude than the gory details.”

“What do you mean?” Pat asked.

“This is why I’m telling you the story. The woman acted absolutely convinced that the missing woman from the ferry is her husband’s mistress.”

“Why do you think she would think that?”

“She said that the woman never leaves the island and all of a sudden she seems to have disappeared.”

“That’s easily explainable,” Linda said. “Wouldn’t you hide out and not show your face if your neighbor found out you were sleeping with her husband? I don’t know how I could show my face. I’d probably leave too.”

“Could be,” Deb replied. “I just wonder if she could have been behind the woman’s disappearance.”

“Why would you think that?” Pat asked.

“She just seemed so angry. Her anger just felt so hot and violent. You should have seen her!”

“Oh, Deb, you were probably having a hot flash,” Pat said. “It’s probably nothing but the usual run of the mill tale of a broken heart.”

“Just wallowing in the muds of vengeance,” Linda agreed. “Wouldn’t both the husband and the wife have reason to make their neighbor disappear? After all, if the wife divorces the guy, she would lose her comfortable lifestyle, right?”

“That’s motive,” Julie said.

“Here,” Linda said, pulling out a pen and sheet of paper. “We’re going to make a chart of suspects.”

“Wait a minute,” Deb interrupted. “Before we do that, I want to tell you something else. Maybe there’s more to this than just facts and suspects.

“What do you mean?” Bev asked.

“After my massage, I walked over to the golf course to take a break,” Deb explained. “I met a woman there who sat with me for awhile. We actually had a deep discussion.”

“That’s nothing new for you,” Bev said.

“So, what does she have to do with this?” Linda asked.

“If you wait a minute, I’ll tell you.”

“Was it someone from the retreat?” Noreen asked.

“She said she attended your watercolor class. She told me she really liked it.”

“What did she look like?”

“Long dark hair, high cheekbones… “

“Was she Native?” Noreen asked.

“She looked to be. She was definitely an islander… she told me about this oral tradition passed down by the elders.”

“Tell us,” Julie urged.

“She said that there’s some ‘spirit woman’ that some islanders believe in who protects the island… sort of like a guardian angel. She’s supposed to bring renewal at summer solstice.”

“Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do…,” Carolyn hummed. “That sounds pretty far out.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Deb said. “But the woman shared this personal story with me about an encounter she had on the island as a child. It seemed authentic enough to me.”

“What would this spirit woman be doing on a ferry boat, then?” Carolyn asked. “Assuming that she’s the missing person.”

“It’s solstice. Maybe she goes off the island then and comes back,” Deb said. “My instincts tell me there may be something to it.”

“I don’t believe it,” Carolyn said firmly.

“Deb’s instincts have always been pretty sharp,” Bev said.

The women pondered this for a few minutes.

“My instincts tell me that perhaps we should look beyond the here and now to try to explain the missing woman,” Deb continued.

“Sounds too Zen-like for me,” Carolyn said. “Maybe, we’ll never know the answer.”

“That’s just what the woman said,” Deb replied softly.

“So, we’ll put the woman from the massage and the spirit woman on the list of suspects,” Linda said. “Does anyone else have any suggestions?”

“I probably should tell Detective LeSeur about the woman at the massage next time I talk to him,” Deb said.

“Okay, so tomorrow… “

Pat’s phone rang.

“Sorry, scuse me. Hello,” she said, talking into her phone. “Oh, hello, kiddo, are you on your way?” There was a pause as she listened.

“Daughter,” Deb mouthed to the others.

“Yes, oh I understand. Work is busy. And the dog has to be boarded. Uhuh, uhuh. Sure no, oh, of course. But there’s this thing…,” Pat hesitated. Glancing up, she saw Julie elbow Noreen.

“You see, you said you were going to be here so I sort of got you a gig.”

“Gig! Mother!” Everyone at the table overheard. “Just a wee one, daughter. It’s at the Burned Down Cafe, and I only signed you up for a fifteen-minute set. Well, actually two fifteen-minute sets, but they’re separated by an hour and a half so you can just do the same one over.”

She listened for what seemed like a full minute. Deb shook her head sympathetically and poured her friend another slush.

“Yes dear, well thanks. I know you’ll just knock ‘em dead. Your second cousin is playing the keyboard for the singers. Here, let me give you her cell.” Finding the number, Pat repeated it into the phone. “I’ll meet you at the dock, tomorrow morning at ten. Love you.” She paused and lifted her glass, “Whew… I knew that would get her here.”

“You are so devious.” Noreen said. “By the way, why were those swords laying on the ground in the babysitting area?”

“You really don’t want to know,” Deb answered.

Deb’s phone ring interrupted them.

“Hello, this is Deb. Oh, hi, daughter. Do you know which ferry you’re coming in on? I see… school is busy, you’ve got a paper to write, I see… the thing is… I did sign you up to give that little talk on Vegan Made Easy that we talked about.” Pausing to listen, she held out her glass.

Noreen nicely filled it, clearly mouthing the word devious.

The women returned to making the next day’s assignment sheets.

“Well, that’s it for me,” Julie yawned after awhile. “I’m off to bed; big day tomorrow.” The others nodded in agreement and cleaned up the table. The habits ingrained into them from childhood wouldn’t allow them to leave a mess even if they were bone tired.

“Would you look at this?” Julie called as she looked out the window. They gathered at the front door in time to see Jessie and Millie getting out of the island’s police car, its lights flashing.

“You don’t suppose they got arrested for causing a disturbance, do you?” Noreen whispered.

“Thank you very much for the ride,” Jessie said. “No, no, it won’t be necessary to pick us up in the morning.” The voice paused. “Yes, yes, of course I understand why you couldn’t put on the siren, it’s just that… “

“Mothers!” Deb said.

“Hide!” Pat added.

Looking up from the pile of papers strewn across his desk, Gary LeSeur glanced out the window, staring at the dark. Standing to stretch his aching back, he walked over to a table, and poured himself a cup. Looking at the murky sludge, he set it down and turned off the coffee pot.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he said out loud to the empty office. He had looked through all the tedious reports of the day that came in during the time he had gone fishing: a cat in Ms. Olsen’s tree (again), five traffic tickets, (you go Joe - with the income from tickets, we’ll keep the lights on in this town yet); and old Otis being put into the tank (again).

He started to go over his notes on the ferry case, picking up a report from the Coast Guard. It said that they had gone through the bay and found nothing. They would wait for more information from him. There were several interviews with the ferry employees, and some with folks on the docks.

Not much,
he realized.
How can I look for a suspect if I don’t even know if there’s a victim? Should I just stop the investigation right now, or not?
He sighed.
If Mike wasn’t such a good friend… no,
he decided,
I’ll give it forty-eight hours and if nothing turns up, I’ll put it aside pending more information.

Checking his watch, he stood once more.
Too late to call Deb on the island tonight to see if she has anything. I’ll try her in the morning.
Turning off the light, he walked out to the empty parking lot and drove home.

“Holy moley, would you look at this!” Pat stood in her pajamas by the window, holding the curtain aside. Deb came up beside her, already dressed in her warm up suit.

“Is someone giving free food out there?” she asked, peering out over her friend’s shoulder. Then, reality suddenly dawned. “They can’t all be out there for the Tai Chi, can they?”

“Either that, or there’s northern lights out there in the morning sky,” Pat joked. “Well, better get on my clothes,” she added, letting the curtain fall. “Good thing you’ve got Julie to help lead. You’ll be fine.”

“There are about a hundred women out in the street waiting for Tai Chi,” Pat called to Noreen as she hurried to get dressed. “You’d best get a move on.”

They heard a banging of the front door and without waiting for someone to open it, Julie walked in.

“I thought you said it would be a small crowd. What do you think is a big crowd? I’ve got someone out there setting up a portable mike system if you can believe it. We’re probably going to need it. Are we ready?” she asked, turning to Deb.

“Not on your life, or rather on my life. You are leading the Italian version,
Pie Chi,
right?”

“Right. Sure. Don’t worry, be happy. I even have some old Frank Sinatra tunes playing to get them in the mood.”

Deb took a deep cleansing breath.

“Let’s do it,” she said. “Bye, all. We’re leaving,” Deb called to the others, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She and Julie headed out the door.

Strains of
When the Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie, That’s Amore
wafted across the street as women and children started to warm up and position themselves for the morning opening. The sun was up and shining, quickly warming the gathering. An enterprising Lotta had set up a small stand nearby and was selling fresh coffee.

Julie walked briskly to the front of the group, pulling Deb with her. She picked up the mic.

“Welcome, it’s so good to have you all here for ‘Pie’ chi. You’ll find out what that means in a minute, but before we start, one of the organizers of the retreat has an announcement about a missing woman.

Deb took the mic.

“Hello. Quiet down, please. We’re so glad you’re out here this morning for this special event. We, law enforcement that is, are asking that if anyone knows of a woman that might be missing from your group, or from the retreat, to please contact Detective Gary LeSeur in the Ashland police department, or post it on the message board at Lotta’s. She was last seen getting on the ferry two days ago from La Pointe. Please let us know if you have any information at all. Thank you.” She handed the mic back to Julie.

Looking down, Deb saw that she had received a call from Gary. After pressing redial, he picked up on the first ring.