A Healthy Homicide (20 page)

 

The shoe slipped from my grasp and thumped to the floor. I ignored it. “What are you talking about? When did the police arrest Stan?” I asked Mom. Was that why Jason had called last night, while I’d been bowling? Was Stan’s arrest what had Ashlee so worked up in the voice mail she’d left me? I pressed the phone closer so I wouldn’t miss Mom’s answer.

“According to the paper, he was taken into custody yesterday evening. Jason did an excellent job recapping the murder. He’s such a good writer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” I picked up my shoe off the floor and jammed my foot inside, then pulled the laces and tied them in one swift motion. “Look, Mom, I have to go. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.”

“Don’t forget to ask Ashlee, too.”

“I won’t.” I hung up and immediately dialed Jason’s number.

Voice mail.

Again.

“Call me when you get this. I heard about Stan,” I said after the recording finished. I jumped up and paced the confines of my bedroom.

Stan.

Arrested for Carla’s murder.

But why would he do it? Because she didn’t want to partner with Patricia? That didn’t make sense. No one killed a person for such a petty reason.

Mom hadn’t mentioned any other particulars about Jason’s article, but maybe she’d forgotten something. I needed to read that story myself.

I held up my phone and opened a Web browser. After months of prodding from Jason and everyone else on staff at the
Blossom Valley Herald,
Jason’s boss had finally agreed to provide a digital copy of the newspaper online. Now I typed in the Web address, chewing on my bottom lip while I waited.

After a few seconds the newspaper site filled the small screen. The headline screamed
ARREST MADE IN SPA OWNER’S MURDER
in bold black letters. Below that, a photo of Stan, probably a professional shot taken for his own Web site for his accounting business, peered back at me. I scrolled through the article but didn’t find anything I didn’t already know. No mention of a motive, either. Darn, I wished Jason would hurry up and call me back.

In the meantime, I needed to get back to work. I grabbed my keys and stuck my phone in my pocket. As I stepped into the hall, the front door opened. Ashlee flew in, scanning the room.

When she saw me, she ran over and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Dana!” she yelled, even though we were inches apart. “You’re not going to believe what I found out!”

I removed her hands from my shoulders and clasped them between my own hands, worried she might hyperventilate if she didn’t calm down. “I already talked to Mom. She told me that Stan was arrested for killing Carla.”

She pulled her hands from my grasp. “
Everybody
knows that. But I bet you don’t know
why
he did it.”

Now I felt like grabbing
her
shoulders. “Why? Tell me!”

“Because Stan was sleeping with Carla.”

I was so shocked, I literally had to sit down. I barely made it to the couch before my legs gave out. “Wait a minute. Are we talking about the same Stan here? Patricia’s accountant husband, who does everything she says? That Stan?”

“I know! I didn’t want to believe it, either!” she cried. “But Brittany sent Jessica a link to the story in the
Herald.
When Jessica saw his picture, she remembered him coming by the spa a couple of times. It was always after hours, like he and Carla were trying to keep it a big secret. She called Brittany, and Brittany was about to call me when I called her, anyway, and that’s when she told me.”

I waited for her to take a breath before I spoke. “Just because Jessica saw Stan at the spa after closing doesn’t mean he and Carla were lovers. He could have been there on an errand for Patricia.”

Even as I said it, I realized that I might have figured Carla all wrong. I’d heard from more than one person that Carla had been dating a married man, while other people said she hadn’t. She could have easily had two boyfriends, and one of them might have been Stan. I’d considered him a likely boyfriend myself when I first met him, then dismissed the idea when I’d seen how good-looking Miguel was. But Stan was fairly handsome, too.

Had Carla threatened to tell Patricia, and had Stan killed her to keep her quiet? Is that who Gretchen had overheard arguing at the spa that night? And what about his alibi?

Ashlee shook her head. “Stan wasn’t there on an errand for Patricia. He was there for a hookup.”

“You could be right,” I said, “but I never would have guessed that Stan was capable of an affair. He seems so solid.”

“Those are the ones you have to watch out for,” Ashlee said knowingly. She clapped her hands together. “Have you talked to Jason? I bet he’d love to know that Stan and Carla were getting it on.”

I checked my phone, hoping for a text. Did Jason know? If he didn’t, did he know someone who could confirm the affair? “I’ve been trying to reach him, but I keep getting voice mail. He’s probably pestering the cops for more info right now.” I stood up from the couch. “But I can’t sit around and wait. I should be back at work already.” I noted her vet smock. “Speaking of which, why are you home?”

“We’re busy this afternoon, so I took an early lunch.”

“But it’s barely ten o’clock.”

Ashlee gave me a look that said I was an idiot. “Duh. That’s why I said it’s early.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll call you later.”

I trotted to my car and roared out of the complex. In minutes I was parking in the lot at the farm. As I barreled through the lobby, Gordon made a show of looking at his watch but didn’t say anything. Not that I gave him the chance.

Once in the office I studied the computer screen and tried to focus, but all I could think about was Stan. Good old dependable Stan. Cheating on Patricia was a much better motive than defending his wife’s honor when her business deal fell through.

And at least Gretchen was off the hook. Now that an arrest had been made, those evil gossipmongers wouldn’t keep whispering about how Gretchen was the killer. Now they’d turn their sharp tongues on Stan. I’d be curious to see how fast the spa’s appointment book filled up. Surely, some of those gossipers would feel guilty about spreading rumors and would book massages and facials with Gretchen as a form of penance.

I shut these thoughts out of my head and started working on a new advertisement for the farm. I’d managed to eke out a single paragraph when my phone rang. I jumped at the sudden noise and fumbled to answer the phone, recognizing Jason’s ringtone.

“Jason!” I shrieked, no doubt sounding as frazzled as Ashlee had a while ago. I tried to control my voice. “I heard about Stan. When did you find out?”

“Last night, right after they made the arrest. I tried calling early on, but then I got busy.”

“No, that’s all right. I was out with Ashlee and didn’t hear my phone. But she told me the craziest thing a while ago.”

“That Stan was having an affair with Carla?”

I stood up with such force that my chair rolled partway across the room. “Then, it’s true?”

“Yes. Not only that, but the same woman who saw Gretchen at the spa the night Carla was murdered suddenly remembered seeing a man fitting Stan’s description there, too.”

“But what about his alibi?”

“They brought his assistant, Alonzo, back in after the witness contacted them. During questioning, he eventually admitted that he left for thirty minutes to grab a bite, which would give Stan a large enough window to drive to the spa, kill Carla, and get back to his office.”

I sucked in my breath. “Why would his assistant lie to the police? Doesn’t he know how much trouble he’s in now?”

“Funny you say that. Alonzo claims he lied to keep
Stan
from getting in trouble. He doesn’t believe for a second that Stan killed Carla, so he didn’t want the police to suspect him. Clearly, his plan didn’t work. Between the affair, the witness, and no alibi, the police had enough evidence for Stan’s arrest.”

“I wonder if he had the whole thing planned or if it was spur of the moment,” I said. “Maybe he hit Carla in a panic, then freaked out and drowned her in the mud. Do the police know what happened? Have they figured out how he got Carla in the mud bath? Was she already unconscious?”

“I don’t have those details yet.”

“What details do you have?” I asked, settling onto the corner of the desk.

“Tell you what. I’ve got some stuff to wrap up here, but let’s meet for lunch at the Breaking Bread Diner a little after noon. How’s that sound?”

I’d have preferred to get together right away, but I knew Jason would be swamped at work. “I guess it’ll have to do. See you then.”

We said our good-byes, and I dropped my phone in my purse. I was sitting down at the computer when Esther came in.

I almost jumped back up in my excitement. “Esther, did you hear the news? Someone was arrested for killing the spa owner. You don’t have to worry about clients canceling their reservations with Gretchen anymore.”

Esther laid a hand on her chest. “Mercy me, what a relief. Now I can focus on this composting class I’m teaching tomorrow.”

I put a hand to my forehead. “With everything going on, I almost forgot.”

She fingered the sterling silver cow on her charm bracelet. “I didn’t. I’m so worried that I’ll mix up what I’m saying.”

“You’ll be great, but you can always make a cheat sheet to remind yourself of the key points, if you think that would help.”

Esther swallowed. “But I don’t know if I can stand up there in front of a bunch of strangers.”

I smiled. “Then don’t stand. Put a chair up at the front and sit down while you talk. In fact, that will make your entire presentation more personal.”

“That’s a good idea.” She offered me a hopeful smile. “If you’re not too busy, maybe I could practice on you?”

I glanced at the time on the computer. I didn’t want to miss my lunch with Jason, but I still had a while. “Of course you can.”

“Oh, goodie.” She dragged the guest chair closer to where I sat. After she’d settled onto the seat, she launched into a story about when she and her husband first tried composting. I nodded along as she spoke, but I was having trouble paying attention as I thought about what Jason had told me over the phone. What had prompted the witness to remember Stan at this late date? Why hadn’t they mentioned him before? And what had made the assistant suddenly decide to change his story?

“Does that sound good, Dana?”

I snapped to attention and nodded. “Perfect,” I mumbled, though I had no idea what Esther had been saying.

“As long as you don’t think it’s too boring,” she said.

I shook my head, and she started talking again. When she reached the essentials of creating a composting bin, I found my thoughts turning once more to Stan. I could see how the assistant would have confessed to lying once he found out about the witness, but this new information from the witness seemed a little too convenient. I was starting to suspect that someone was trying to frame Stan. But why? Was the real killer worried that the police were getting too close?

“And then I thought I’d finish with a tour of our composting bin,” Esther said. She raised her eyebrows in anticipation.

I nodded. “Sounds like you have everything figured out.”

She rose from her chair. “I feel so much better now that I’ve practiced. Thanks for helping me.”

I felt a twinge of guilt. Little did she know I hadn’t heard a single word. But I knew Esther’s presentation would go fine. She’d just needed an extra shot of confidence.

As Esther walked out, I checked the time.
Five to twelve. Oops.
After running to the restroom to freshen up, I grabbed my phone on my way by the office and found a text message from Jason, letting me know he was running a few minutes late, too.

I drove into town, already thinking up what questions I’d be asking him. Had the police suspected Stan all along? Who was this mystery witness that had conveniently seen Stan? When had the police found out about the affair? Most importantly, what would have driven him to kill Carla, if he was the one who did?

As I cruised down Main Street, I noticed the door to the Pampered Life was propped open again. Erin must be inside, finishing up her packing. I thought about what Ricky had said at the bowling alley, how Erin wanted to apologize for scaring me so badly at the spa. With Jason running late, this might be my only opportunity to talk to her. Once she closed the place down, there was a good chance I’d never see her again.

I parked at the curb and walked inside the spa. Erin had finished packing the lobby since my last visit. The paintings and the tranquility fountain were gone. The counter was bare. All that remained was a stack of boxes in the corner.

I walked toward the back, glancing in each room as I passed. The first massage room had been emptied out, but the second was still a work in progress. The place was eerily quiet. Remembering what had happened the last time I dropped in on Erin unexpectedly, I called out, “Erin, are you here? It’s Dana.”

No answer.

I stepped into the office and stopped. Instead of Erin, Patricia was crouched down, placing a pile of papers in a cardboard box. “Oh, hi, Patricia.”

Talk about awkward. What did you say to a woman whose husband had been arrested for murdering his mistress? I decided to keep my mouth shut and see if she brought up the topic first.

She straightened up with a groan and reached into her handbag where it sat on the nearby chair. She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. “I didn’t realize it was lunchtime already.” She slipped the phone in her pocket and frowned at me. “What are you doing here?”