Gossip Can Be Murder (8 page)

I glanced over at Linda. Her eyes were closed but she must have sensed my gaze. She peeked at me and puckered the dimple at the side of her mouth. Well, at least she wasn’t lost completely in the trance.

Wednesday morning dawned clear and chilly, with that special brightness that New Mexico autumn mornings have. I groaned and looked at the bedside clock. Six. The sun had not cleared the mountains yet, but I needed to move.

“I think I’d like a walk before starting the day’s festivities,” I said to Linda, who yawned widely and groaned. “Want to come?”

“Yeah, I’ll make myself get moving.”

We dressed in jeans and sweaters and put on our walking shoes. The chill morning called for jackets, so we grabbed them and headed out.

“I’ve wanted to explore the grounds ever since we got here,” she said, once she’d stretched her muscles a little. “Gotta balance classroom time with some physical activity.”

We headed down the long driveway, planning to turn around once we got to the main road, then walk along the hillside past the parking area and back up to the dining room in time to catch some breakfast. The morning air felt crisp, the air tinged with the scent of wood smoke and chrysanthemums, reminding me that my birthday was coming up in a little over a month. Those autumn smells always bring back the reminder that the final family cookout each year was usually my birthday lunch, a picnic with a bunch of friends. This year, Drake and I had the added bonus of our planned trip to Kauai in November. Despite his misgivings about the deposition, it was probably a good thing that they’d moved the date up. He could be done with it and enjoy the vacation.

Linda and I conversed little at first, using the brisk pace and high altitude to wake ourselves up and get the blood flowing. When she asked about Drake I admitted that the camaraderie between my husband and brother had seen better times.

“I’m meeting Drake in Santa Fe this afternoon, maybe grab a late lunch, talk things out.”

 “Well, watch out that you don’t get caught up in their whole conflict, yourself.”

“Hey, I’m not feeling at all angry toward either of them. I’ve let go of my negative emotions, just as Dr. Light suggested.” I negotiated around a pothole in the road. “Just don’t ask me about it next week. My positive outlook may be a bit strained by then.”

We passed by the portico and circled to the left, beside the spa building, then cut through the parking lot. At the edge of the hill we picked up a walkway that would lead us through the rear courtyard and back to the guestroom wing. About the time the tip of my nose felt like it would freeze, we got there.

“Do you know that guy?” Linda asked.

I looked up to see a dark-haired man staring into one of the rooms, hands cupped around his face at the window. He turned and gave us a quick stare. I didn’t recognize the slender form, dressed in khaki slacks and dark blue bomber jacket, or the stern facial features under black brows. When he noticed that we’d stopped walking, he jammed his hands into his pockets and quickly followed the sidewalk toward the lobby entrance.

“Odd, don’t you think?” I said

“He’s not one of our group. Could be another guest, though.”

“Staring into someone’s window?”

“Not very logical, that’s for sure,” Linda said.

We watched as he entered the lobby and disappeared from sight. I noted the window he’d been peeking into, wondering who he’d been spying on. Entering our hall through a side door, I counted rooms. We’d caught him at the window of Room 14, right next to ours.

As soon as Linda had unlocked our door, I strode to the telephone and called the front desk.

“There’s a man who just entered the lobby a minute ago,” I said. “Has dark hair and he’s wearing khakis and a dark blue jacket.”

“Um, I don’t see him, ma’am. Shall I page him?”

“No. I just caught him peeping into the windows of Room 14. Is there security here at the hotel?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Of course they can’t be everywhere at once, but I’ll . . .”

“Yes, get the word out. He’s probably leaving the grounds by now, but have them watch for him. Who’s registered in Room 14?”

“Well, I can’t divulge that information, ma’am, but I will let the guest know about this.”

It was the most I could hope for. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t use my own resourcefulness. I went back out into the hall and knocked on the door of Room 14. Shuffling noises came from within the room and an unsteady hand fiddled with the door knob. When the door opened, I found myself facing Trudie Blanchard.

Chapter 10

Trudie was fully dressed, although her hair still held the tangles of sleep and her face seemed thinner, with puffy bags under her eyes. Her restless eyes darted back and forth, not staying on my face for more than a second or two.

“Did you just see a man peeking in your windows?” I asked.

“Uh, no,” she murmured. “I just got up.” She rubbed her hands together and tucked them against her ribs, under crossed arms.

I quickly explained what Linda and I had seen and gave her a description of the man. Her eye movements quickened.

“The front desk should be calling. I asked them to. But I thought I’d tell you myself.” In answer, the phone rang at that moment. She jumped. “There you go,” I said.

I turned and heard her close the door behind me. Trudie was a hard one to figure out, but I’d done my part to warn her. I went back to our room, where Linda was fluffing her hair in the mirror. I gathered my yoga clothes and other items for the morning classes. We headed for breakfast a few minutes later. I noticed that Trudie didn’t show up.

The yoga room felt chilly. Most everyone was moving around to warm up. Gerald Mayhew finally decided that was ridiculous and he turned up the thermostat. Trudie wandered in, looked around—I guessed she was hoping Rex Storm would be there—then parked her mat next to mine. Following the others’ example, I stood and stretched a bit. After twenty minutes of this we all began to wonder where Rita was. She’d been late the first morning, but this was pushing it. I looked around and sensed the indecision in the rest of the group.

“Well, we could all go out for a nice strong cup of coffee,” I said.

“No,” said Dina, “we should be to sticking with our program.”

Heads nodded, some reluctantly.

“If everyone does not mind . . . I have taken many yoga classes. I can perhaps show?”

“Great idea,” Nicole chimed in. “Dina, you know the postures really well. Why don’t you lead the class?”

“Yeah. You’re a whole lot nicer than the grump,” Gerald said. Nicole shot him a look.

“I can lead until she comes,” Dina offered, looking around the group.

Everyone agreed enthusiastically and took their positions on the mats. Within minutes, Dina moved us into the first pose and explained the purpose of the mind/body connection in yoga. This was something Rita hadn’t talked about and I found myself really feeling that I was getting something from the exercise. I began to agree with Gerald. The class was much more productive without Rita at the helm. I wondered if we could convince the directors to dump Rita and keep Dina for the rest of the week.

As we ended the class with savasana, I felt the rejuvenating energy flow through me. Finally, everyone began to quietly gather their things. I noticed that not one person had left during the class. Even Trudie seemed more centered, less jumpy than at any other time since I’d met her. I caught the eye of one of Shirley’s assistants and gave her a thumbs up. She let me know with a nod and a smile that the word would get to the right people.

I wandered through the lobby on my way back to the room to change clothes again. At the front desk, complete with entourage, stood Rex Storm. Surrounded by about two dozen pieces of luggage, undoubtedly all filled with black clothes, he was in the process of gushing to Shirley about how sorry he was to cut the visit short. Prior commitments, and all that. So much for detoxifying. In three days? I aimed a little wave in his direction and headed down the hall.

When I entered the classroom for the morning’s nutrition discussion, I noticed a smaller than usual crowd. I helped myself to a cup of tea at the back of the room. Shirley came in and set a plate of cookies near the tea setup.

“It’s one of our chef’s specialties,” she said. “And, yes, they’re made of all-natural ingredients. Very healthy.”

I reached for one, of course, turning it over and eying it for tofu bits. “Did you hear about this morning’s yoga class?” I asked.

She laughed. “Oh, yes.” She dropped her voice. “We’ve known for a long time that Rita wasn’t working out. We just weren’t sure how to get rid of her. Poor girl has had a lot of personal problems recently. It just didn’t seem fair to cut her job at the same time. Maybe she’ll save me the trouble by quitting.”

“Well, it was pretty obvious that her heart wasn’t in that classroom the past few days. I’m sorry to hear about the other problems.”

“I know. Despite our efforts at bringing peace and love into people’s lives, sometimes shit happens.” She allowed a worldly grin to sneak out. “Rita’s divorce hit her hard, but then those things aren’t easy for anyone, are they?”

She walked across the room, leaving me to wonder about Rita’s personal life. We rarely see the whole person. I’d certainly learned that in my involvement with Ron’s investigation business.

Shirley called for attention and everyone began taking their seats.

“Today, we want to look at food preparation techniques,” she said. “I’m going to come down against your microwave ovens and packaged foods, I’m afraid.”

That drew a little twitter from the group and a surge of fear from me. No microwave?

She grabbed a stack of papers and began passing the handouts around the room. Yesterday we’d covered body types and the ways in which different people metabolize their food and the amazing ways that our bodies fight off various diseases. I flipped through the pages Shirley gave me, making sure I had copies of everything for Linda.

“Now—” Her voice was interrupted by the sound of a distant scream. By the time it repeated for the third time, pounding footsteps followed. Our group were now on their feet. I sniffed for smoke, looked outside for flashing lights, saw nothing. Leaving our workbooks behind, we moved en masse to the door.

“What’s going on?” Shirley asked a passing secretary.

“Don’t know,” the girl said. “Something out back.”

We headed for the exit to the courtyard. Out in the bright sun, the drift of people were all heading toward the low adobe wall at the edge of the compound. I worked my way forward, and found that they were crowded around Tahlene.

“Give her some space,” the resort manager said as I walked up.

The crowd moved back about an inch.

“Tahlene? What’s wrong?” I asked, over the heads of a couple of bellmen.

“Charlie!” She looked relieved to see someone familiar. Her hand reached out and I slipped from behind the bellman to take it. “Oh, Charlie, it’s awful!”

“Calm down,” I said. Her fingers gripped my hand with painful force and her whole body was shaking.

The resort manager stood before her. “Miss, can you tell me what’s the matter? Can I call for help?”

Tahlene’s blond curls bobbed. With her free hand she grabbed the green knitted scarf at her neck. She bunched and twisted the yarn repeatedly.

“Tahlene? Talk to us,” I coaxed.

“Th-the wall . . . over the wall.”

“Here, let me . . .” I pried her fingers off me and stroked her arm. “Let me see.”

I walked to the wall and looked over. The ground dropped away all along this back side of the resort. In some places the drop began a few feet away from the adobe wall, but in this spot it fell away immediately. Erosion had created a steep gully with sharp exposed rocks. A cactus lay in shreds near the top. My eyes followed the direction of its broken arms and I leaned outward to see below. About thirty feet down, smashed against rugged boulders lay a twisted body. It was Rita.

Black specks floated in front of my eyes as vertigo threatened. I reeled slightly before catching myself. I turned and bumped into the manager, who now stood at the wall.

“Call the police,” I said quietly.

He glanced downward and turned quickly. “I will. Keep everyone back.”

Well, yeah. That was a real no-brainer. I turned to Tahlene and patted her back. “Let’s get you inside,” I said. Shirley stood at the edge of the group and I put the shaking Australian girl in her capable hands.

Commandeering two bellmen, I asked them to gather the little crowd and take them inside. “Offer them free drinks or something,” I suggested. “We need to calm them down but keep them on the premises.”

The older one picked up on the importance of the request and began moving. The younger guy was itching to peek over the wall, but followed the example of his senior man. Together they rounded up the twenty or thirty people standing around and headed them toward the lobby. I noticed Linda in the crowd but she didn’t try to push through. She followed along with the bellman’s request.

What had happened? The questions immediately descended upon me. Accident? I looked over the wall again, willing myself to be dispassionate. Clearly, the fall had killed Rita. Her neck lay twisted at a horrible angle. Blood covered her face and matted her brown curls. One arm was flung out behind her, the other pinned under the body. I swallowed hard.

Had she sat or stood on the wall and lost her balance? Had she gotten the hint that her job was in jeopardy and jumped? Rita, a suicide? I had to admit that I didn’t know her well enough to judge. Or had something more sinister happened? Granted, Rita didn’t have many admirers here. Her rigid rules and drill-sergeant attitude hadn’t won any friends.

I scanned the ground on both sides of the wall. Remarkably, there were all kinds of footprints. As dangerous as the area obviously was, a well-beaten path led along the wall outside the safe zone. Had Rita been walking along and not noticed the section where the path was cut away by the gully? Possibly, if it were dark out.

I didn’t remember seeing her at the firelight gathering last night. In fact, I was pretty certain she hadn’t been there. Maybe she’d come to work very early this morning. Maybe she was staying at the hotel as a guest. I realized I didn’t even know whether she lived here in Santa Fe or not. I needed more information.