California Schemin': Book One in the Malibu Mayhem Trilogy (9 page)

Up popped photos of Mandy and Mallory. One showed them standing side by side on a red carpet dressed in animal print minidresses. Mandy’s was zebra, Mallory’s leopard.

“‘Mandy and Mallory Casabian looking wild at the premiere of
Love Safari
,’” I read the caption aloud.

“It says the date of the premiere was last night,” Bess pointed out. “Just as they said.”

“Okay, so they didn’t lie about last night,” George said. “But what about two nights ago, when the garbage was dumped?”

Bess scrolled down to the next picture. It showed the sisters walking into a club called Tic-Tock two nights ago. A giant clock over the door read two o’clock.

“That’s when I heard the voices,” I said. “If Mandy and Mallory were clubbing late that night, they couldn’t have been on the beach.”

“Which means the sisters are clean,” Bess said. “So if Mandy and Mallory didn’t make that mess—who did?”

I didn’t have a clue, until I remembered the yellow sunburst logo on the makeup containers. The
sisters didn’t use the spa’s makeup, so…

“Could the
spa
have dumped the trash?” I asked.

“Why would a spa of all places throw garbage on our beach?” George wondered. “Or on any beach, for that matter?”

I felt the warm foam of a wave roll over my foot. Which made me think…“Maybe the spa didn’t dump it—maybe it came in with the tide,” I said.

“The tide?” George furrowed her brow. “I’m not getting this, Nancy.”

“The
yacht
, George. What if they dumped their garbage off the yacht, into the ocean?”

“Why would they do that?” Bess asked.

“Maybe they’re too cheap to hire a private trash pickup service,” I said. “Or maybe they’re too lazy to recycle.”

“Especially if they use hypodermic needles,” George said, glancing down at her foot. “They’d have to dispose of them in a nonhazardous way.”

“So to save time or money,” Bess went on, “the spa secretly dumps their trash? Maybe ‘garbage in, garbage out’ really does mean something.”

“Maybe,” I said. But I wasn’t entirely convinced; it still seemed kind of strange to me.

Then George reminded us, “Well, the hospital should have the results on the needle soon, and we’ll know what the spa is using them for.”

“It’s
got
to be Botox,” Bess said. “I mean, did you see that portrait of Roland? It’s a wonder he can still blink—he looks so weird.”

“What’s weird,” I said, “is how Mandy and Mallory described Mia, like she’s a whole new person.”

Bess pointed to the next beach. “Why don’t we find out for ourselves?” she said. I turned to see Mia Casabian, alone on the beach, doing tai chi.

“I know it’s private property, but let’s go talk to her,” I said. “It’s a long shot, but maybe she’ll tell
us
why she never went home.”

We walked along the shore to the retreat’s beachfront.

“Hi, Mia,” I called as we walked over. “Nice to meet you. I’m Nancy and these are my friends Bess and George.”

“Are you fans?” Mia frowned.

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean…” Bess was flustered. “We’re living in Stacey Manning’s house while she’s away on business.”

Mia glanced at the mansion behind us.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said in almost a whisper. “This is the retreat’s private beach.”

“I know. We just want you to know your sisters are worried about you,” I said.

“Why won’t you go home, Mia?” George asked. “The pedicures here can’t be
that
good.”

Mia shook her head. “I can’t. Roland says I have to focus on myself and the renewal process, not on my sisters.”

“But Mandy and Mallory care about you,” I said.

“That’s what they want you to think,” Mia answered. A smile swept slowly across her face. “Nobody cares for me as much as Roland.”

What was up with this guy Roland? Most of all, what was up with this retreat?

“What’s the renewal process all about, Mia?” I probed. “What do you have to do?”

“It’s amazing!” Mia exclaimed. “For a whole week, students of Roland go through different challenges, both physical and mental.”

“What kind of challenges?” George asked.

“Only students of Roland get to find out,” Mia said with an apologetic smile.

I was just going to ask about Inge when someone called Mia’s name. A guy who looked to be in his early twenties walked toward us. The sunburst logo on the shirt pocket told me he was a spa employee—or a Roland devotee.

“Time for your aura evaluation, Mia,” he said with a tight grin.

“Thank you, Scotty,” Mia said.

Without a good-bye, she turned and headed back to the mansion. But Scotty stayed behind with us.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

I nodded toward our own beach. “We’re your neighbors,” I explained. “We just came over to say hi to—”

“This beach is the private property of Roland and the retreat. You’re not welcome,” Scotty interrupted. He turned and walked quickly back to the mansion.

“I would have asked him about the trash,” I finally said. “But he seemed way too scary.”

“So did Mia,” Bess said. “Did you see the way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about Roland?”

I did. And that made me think we had more to worry about than just the trash on the beach.

“You guys,” I said, “I don’t think Roland is running a spa here.”

“Then what is it?” Bess asked.

“I think…” I paused and turned my eyes on the mansion. “It’s a cult.”

“
A
cult?” Bess repeated. “As in…brainwashing?”

“Think about it,” I said as we walked along the shore to our own beach. “Everyone we met at the retreat talks about Roland like he was their brilliant leader.”

“Mia and that guy Brad did seem pretty zombielike,” George agreed.

“And don’t most cults persuade followers to hand over their worldly possessions?” I pointed out.

“Mia’s bank account,” George remembered. “Roland could have convinced Mia to withdraw a huge chunk of money to hand over to him.””

But when I looked at Bess, she seemed unconvinced.

“I can’t believe stuff like that is happening next door,” she insisted. “The spa seems so classy and well run.”

“The spa could be a front for the cult and the perfect way to attract more followers, Bess,” I said.

“Now you’re giving me the creeps.” Bess frowned.

As we turned onto our beach I wondered about Mia. Why was she so over the moon about Roland? And what about Brad?
What
had made him so dehydrated—enough to end up in the hospital?

What I said next surprised even me.

“Bess, George,” I said. “I’m going back to Roland’s Renewal Retreat and Spa. I’m signing up for the full-week intensive.”

“What?” George asked, surprised.

“You mean you’re joining that cult?” Bess cried.

“I’m not joining anything,” I insisted. “I want to find out the truth about what’s
really
going on.”

George rolled her eyes to the sky. “Great,” she groaned. “We get a fabulous beach house for three weeks and you want to waste an entire week in that kooky place.”

“You don’t need a week to find out if and why they’re dumping their trash in the ocean, do you?” Bess asked.

“It’s not just about the trash anymore,” I said. “I want to see if I can help Mia. She acted so spacey. And the shouting we heard at the retreat was awful.”

“So you’re really going to do this?” George asked me. “What happened to taking a vacation from mysteries?”

“How can we relax knowing what might be going on right next door?” I asked.

“Okay, Nancy, but you’re not going to that place alone,” Bess said. “George and I are going there with you.”

“What?” George cried. “We can’t all leave Stacey’s house after she put us in charge.”

“George, you stay here. Bess and I will investigate. We might need you to look stuff up on the computer for us.”

“Until they turn you into Roland-worshipping zombies too,” George said. “What if that Inge doesn’t let you sign up? After seeing us snooping around, she might know you’re up to something.”

“Good point,” I admitted. “But we’ll worry about Inge when the time comes.”

“Maybe we should tell Mandy and Mallory we’re going over,” Bess suggested. “They might want to know we’re trying to help Mia.”

I shook my head. “If their producer Bev finds out, she’ll storm the place with the camera crew.
Let’s wait before we say anything,” I said.

“So…when are you guys leaving?” George asked slowly.

“I think Bess and I should pack and go over there as soon as possible,” I explained.

While Bess and I got ready, George made us double-stuffed sky-high sandwiches, just in case the food at the retreat consisted of a daily diet of watercress and twigs.

“Good luck, you two,” George said as we finally left the house. “Make sure you stay connected.”

“We will,” I promised. “Make sure you don’t leave your phone or your computer.”

Bess laughed. “Does she ever?”

Carrying our duffel bags, we made our way down the road to Roland’s Renewal Retreat and Spa. Luna seemed genuinely happy to see us when she opened the door.

“Why, hello there,” she greeted us. “Here for more treatments?”

I nodded at the bag on my shoulder and said, “Actually, we’re here to sign up for the weeklong intensive.”

Luna blinked with surprise. “Oh, my,” she said. “In that case, come with me, please.”

Instead of taking us to the spa’s waiting room, Luna led us down another hallway. Stopping at a door at
the end, she knocked four times and waited.

After a few seconds a voice said, “Come in.”

Bess and I traded glances. The frosty voice was clearly Inge’s.

As Luna opened the door, I could see Inge sitting regally behind a large mahogany desk. She peered at us over the glasses resting on the tip of her nose.

“Thank you, Luna,” Inge said. She gestured to two chairs in front of her desk.

I was surprised when Inge flashed a cheery smile and said, “Please sit down. I had a feeling you’d be back.”

“You did?” Bess asked.

“Yes,” Inge said, folding her hands on her desk. “There was something in your faces that told me you wanted to know more.”

Was Inge onto us?

“Um,” I said, smiling at the elaborate portrait of Roland behind her desk. “We actually want to learn everything about Roland’s philosophy.”

“His book
You are That
seems so…inspiring!” Bess chimed in.

“How many times did you read it?” Inge asked.

“H-how many times?” Bess stammered.

“Most people sign up for the intensive and come back a few days later to begin.” Inge looked at our luggage. “You seem ready to check in right away.”

“We’re only in town for a short time,” Bess blurted.

“So we need to start now,” I added.

Inge nodded as she observed us silently. Then her smile returned suddenly, and she said, “And so you shall!”

“Shall what?” I asked.

“Join the intensive. But before you begin the renewal process, you must fill out these forms,” she said, and handed us two clipboards. “Remember to sign your names at the bottom.”

Inge stood up and walked over to a nearby file cabinet. She pretended to be busy rummaging through the files, but I could feel her radar on us.

Bess and I filled out the first few lines—name, address, telephone number. I had no problem giving that information—until I reached the fourth line.

“They want our bank information?” I whispered.

“No way,” Bess whispered. “Why should we give them that?”

“Is there a problem?” Inge asked.

“Um…we were just wondering why you need our bank info,” I said.

“For the fee,” Inge said as though we should have known. “And for any minor expenses that might come up.”

“What is the fee?” I asked.

Inge waved her hand as if it wasn’t important. “Eight thousand dollars,” she said.

“Eight thousand dollars?” Bess squeaked.

“For a week?” I asked.

“Meals included,” Inge added.

“You know,” I blurted, “I don’t remember my bank account number.” I rolled my eyes as if to say,
Duh
.

“Neither do I,” Bess said. “Can we give it to you another time maybe?”

“Or can’t we just be billed later?” I asked.

Inge stared at us. “Wait here,” she finally said.

She marched over to another door in her office, rapped on it three times, and slipped inside.

As soon as the door shut, Bess and I jumped from our chairs. We raced to the door, pressed our ears against it, and listened.

“Roland, I have two girls being resistant,” we heard Inge say.

“Roland is in there,” Bess whispered. “Resistant how?” a deeper voice said.

“They won’t cough up their bank information,” Inge said. “Should I tell them to leave?”