Powdered Murder (11 page)

"Unfortunately, yes." Bebe moved a strand of hair away from her eyes and back to its proper place. For a brief few seconds, her eyes fixated on her bracelets.

"Has that stuff ever happened to you?"

"Heavens no," she exhaled, glancing at me suspiciously. "I would die if I received as much hate mail as she does, but I'm not the right person to ask about this stuff. I haven't known Lila as long as Bev has."

"Bev," I responded. "The flaky bridesmaid."

"If you ask me she dodged a bullet by backing out at the last minute."

"Have you talked to her recently?" I asked.

"Not since we left L.A." Bebe directed her attention forward when Pastor Tad remarked on Lila and Patrick's kind words and moved on with the ceremony by reading a few paragraphs about the importance of long-term commitment. "Are youokay, Essie? You look a little flushed."

My attempts to turn off the panicking side of my brain started to wear off. All I could think about was the letter, and the fact that I had no idea who the killer was, but the killer knew exactly who
I
was. I instinctively looked over my shoulder and scanned the room behind me.

"I think I'm a little dehydrated," I lied. "I'll be fine."

"Good," she muttered. "Because you're the only sane one around here."

"What do you mean?"

"Lila and Franco have been arguing more lately," she whispered, careful not catch Franco's attention. "He tells her
everything.
Maybe a little too much. I think he does it on purpose because he craves the drama."

"What about Patrick?" I asked.

"He's a doll," she admitted. "But anyone who isn't Lila can see that his heart isn't really in this anymore. I'm sure you've noticed that too. I mean, you know him better than me."

"Sometimes." I watched him squeeze Lila's hand when Pastor Tad said
man and wife
. "And sometimes I have no idea if he's even the same guy from down the street."

*   *   *

Immediately after the ceremony, Lila lined up a long list of treatments she wanted done in the privacy of her own suite. She retreated to her room which was now being guarded by a burly man with giant arms and fists that looked like they could knock you back to last year. Patrick, sensing that Lila wanted some alone time, retreated to
his
day spa of sorts. The slopes.

Franco scurried off to his room to get a nap in before the wedding dinner and I was left with Bebe. The two of us decided that now was a better time than ever to clean up Donna's room and box up her things to be sent off to her family. Bebe let me into Donna's hotel room. Her suite which was situated on the same floor as Lila, Franco, and Bebe wasn't as big as Lila's, but it faced the town and had a clear view of Doc Henry's medical office. It took me a few minutes to bring myself to touch any of Donna's stuff. I could tell that Bebe felt the same way. She stared at a pair of high heels near the bathroom that looked like Donna had just kicked them off when she'd walked through the door. It felt strange to be in her room knowing she was gone. I never met her, but even touching her luggage brought back that moment in the spa when Bebe had stood frozen in front of me.

"Weird," I commented. "Is it strange that I feel like I need to ask Donna's permission before I go searching through her stuff?"

"You mean before you go packing up her stuff," Bebe corrected me.

"That's what I meant." But my real agenda was just that – searching through Donna's things in hopes of finding out who killed her and who wanted to kill me too. "Packing her stuff."

I started in her closet. Donna wasn't the tidiest person, but she wasn't messy like Joy. Sometimes Joy left her clothes out for weeks and then freaked out if I put them back in her closet. She claimed that even though her clothes were strung across her room like a tornado had blown through, she could still find what she needed.

Donna had a couple of designer dresses hanging in her closet, and two pairs of jeans folded on a shelf next to a pair of nude pumps. Bebe ran her fingers over the dresses and sighed. She took one off the rack and looked at the label.

"I'm glad Donna and Lila weren't the same size or I might have had to hide these from her," she said quietly. She waited for me to giggle or even smile, but my mind was faraway. I was looking for something in particular. Donna's phone. "Too soon for jokes?"

"Huh?" I focused on Bebe. "Oh, I'm sorry I guess I was lost in thought."

"You do that a lot," she replied. "At first I thought you were just quiet or maybe a little shy, but I don’t think you hold your tongue because you have nothing to say."

"You're right," I admitted. "I always have plenty to say, believe me."

"It's better that you don't when Lila is around."

"How did you two meet?" I asked her.

"I love that girl, don't get me wrong. It’s just sometimes she can get under my skin." She checked the size of Donna's shoes. "We met at a red carpet event. My father is Harris Bridges, the designer. Lila wore a piece from his collection that night."

"And the rest is history," I finished.

"Exactly."

I left Donna's closet and skimmed through the magazines in her nightstand. She had everything from Vogue to Southern Living. Her bed hadn't been made since the incident and her sheets were wrinkled like she'd been lying in bed the last time she was in her room. I touched one of her pillows and noticed something shiny hiding under the sheets. It was Donna's cell phone.

Bebe continued to look through the clothes in Donna's closet before packing them in her suitcases. She zipped and unzipped the luggage to make sure everything fit. I made sure Bebe was completely out of eyeshot, and I swiped the screen on Donna's phone. It was locked. I tried a few of the obvious pass codes.

1234

4321

1111

"Hey, Bebe," I shouted. "When is Donna's birthday?"

"June fifth, I think. Why?" She paused still sorting through the closet.

"Oh, uh." I looked down at one of Donna's magazines. "I'm looking through horoscopes."

"You do that too?" Bebe laughed from inside the closet. "Have you ever done a psychic reading before? I went to this woman in Atlanta once and she told me I was going to meet my husband at a gas station. Can you believe that? My driver fills the gas tank."

"Crazy," I said as I tried Donna's birthday. My stomach leapt when the screen cleared giving me full access to her messages. I immediately opened up her file of texts, my eyes stopping at the very last one she had received. It was from Franco.

Lila wants you to meet her at the spa early. Cold feet.

I read the text a couple of times before I looked through a few others. I stopped again when Bev's name appeared.
Bev
, the bridesmaid who somehow managed to escape the wedding from Hell. I quickly pulled out my own phone and copied her number. Donna had called her quite a few times the night she checked in. No one would miss the chance to be part of the secret celebrity wedding of the year. Even if it did only consist of a few friends and family at a quiet mountain resort.

"Find anything good?" Bebe asked as she hauled Donna's suitcase out of her closet. "Oh Lord, don't tell me she had porn in the nightstand. She was raunchy like that sometimes."

"Uh, no." I laughed. "Just this." I locked Donna's screen again before showing Bebe the cell phone.

"Oh that's where that thing went," she responded. "The cops were looking for that." She took the phone from me and slipped it into Donna's luggage before I had the chance to say anything else about it. "Anything else?" She eyed the magazines. "I don't think Donna would mind if we threw those away. What do you think?" She touched the cover of Southern Living. "Or maybe I'll hang onto this one for a while."

"Really?" I studied her expression.

"Yeah, I'm a country girl at heart." She grinned and tucked the magazine under her arm. "Well, we should probably get some rest before the big dinner tonight. I hope you're wearing … something different."

"This isn't a jeans and t-shirt sort of affair?" I joked. Bebe didn't seem too amused by the thought of me showing up to a formal event in casual wear. "I'm kidding."

"Oh," she exhaled. "Of course you are."

"I have something else to wear," I lied.

"Good, because anything short of a cocktail dress would be a disaster." She giggled the same way she did when she talked about Chanel handbags.

I had to find a dress for tonight. I couldn't wear my bridesmaid dress and call it good. I glanced out the window as a flurry of snowflakes began falling from the sky. The snow made me want to stay in and light a fire instead, but I couldn't miss the wedding dinner.

Hopefully I would survive until then.

CHAPTER TEN

My hands shook when I walked back through the staff hallway. I shoved them in my pockets and looked over my shoulder every five seconds. When I passed the lockers in the employee break room and lounge I was too nervous to look at mine in case the first letter came with a part two. The phone rang and Eli poked his head out from around the corner. He was holding a cup of coffee and chewing on another dinner roll from the kitchen. I walked past him and headed for the exit.

"Hello?" Eli said. "Yeah. Yeah. Hold on." He set the phone down. "Hey, Essie!"

"What?"

"Some chick named Taryn wants to know where the spare key is to the equipment closet."

"I've told her this a million times," I muttered. "Tell her it's in my office. Bottom drawer on the left."

"Got it." Eli repeated my instructions into the phone as I opened the back door leading into the staff parking lot.

The wind brushed across my cheeks and snowflakes rested on my nose. The snow was starting to pick up and the sky was turning light gray. I walked along the shoveled path along the outer rim of the hotel. I pulled my hands out of my pockets and rubbed them together for warmth. The back door zipped open. I stopped and rolled my eyes, hearing Eli's voice calling my name again.

"Wait a second," he shouted. I took a few steps away from the wall of the hotel and stood there waiting as icy water droplets thumped my head from icicles hanging right above me.

"Let me guess," I said. "Taryn can't find the key and she needs me to go up there and look for her?"

"Uh…" Eli shrugged and nodded, seeing the frustration on my face. "She said she's in your office and she can't find it."

"Fine," I sighed. I took a deep breath, taking one last look over my shoulder. No sign of the black BMW or the mystery tourist journalist and possible stalker John Slagger.

The moment I stepped back towards the building again a loud
thwack
boomed right next to me. I let out a scream as snow burst upwards from thing that had fallen. My blood pumped vigorously through my body as a surge of adrenaline pulsed through me. My torso felt like it was on fire. I shook my head to get rid of the annoying ringing in my ears.

"Essie!" Eli yelled.

"I'm okay," I replied, out of breath. I looked down at the icy parking lot and saw a chunk of ice cracked into pieces. A forty five pound barbell plate had plunged from an upstairs window and landed in the spot where I was once standing. I looked up wanting to see a malicious face, but the sky was clear. I forced myself to look again.

No one was looking down at me.

There was no sign of any movement in the upstairs windows. I gulped and looked back at Eli. He raced towards me and stared down at the weight with a bewildered look on his face. He kicked it and looked up.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I assured him.

"Just think," he said quietly. "If I didn't call you back inside…"

"Who knows what might have happened." Still shaking, I followed Eli inside. Whoever wanted to silence me must have been pretty desperate. Dropping a weight on someone's head at precisely the right moment was a shot in the dark unless the killer had done this sort of thing before.
Please don't tell me we're dealing with a seasoned criminal here.

"Is Taryn still on the phone?" I asked him. He rushed to the receiver and listened.

"Taryn?" Eli nodded. "She's still waiting.

"Tell her I'll be right there."

Before Eli hung up I ran through the staff hallway and all the way to the stairwell. My body was so adrenalized from the shock that I needed to wear myself out before I could calm down. I ran up the stairs two at a time. My breathing quickened, but I didn't let it stop me. I climbed higher and higher determined to put this mystery to rest once and for all. I didn't know who tried to kill me, but I did know that I'd tangled myself in a deadly web that I didn't want to be in. I didn't feel in control anymore, and that unsteady feeling was beginning to eat away at me.

When I reached the upper level where the fitness studio was I burst through the doors and stopped in the empty hallway. My office was across from the private gym where I trained clients. I jogged towards the gym with clenched fists.

It was empty.

I checked every barbell and every set of weighted plates. One set was missing a forty-five pounder.

I gulped, glancing out the window at the spot below where I'd been standing moments ago. It would have been easy to open the window and through something down. If chance hadn't have been on my side today, it probably would have worked.

I caught my breath before I walked casually over to my office. I caught a glimpse of Taryn in her green trainer polo and matching sneakers. She was sitting at my desk strumming her fingers on the surface as she waited on the phone. She grunted, hung up, and dialed again. This time someone answered.

"She's coming right?" Taryn said. She shook her head. "That's not funny, Eli. Is she coming or not? Quit joking around."

"I'm here," I said, stepping into the office. Taryn acted like her usual self. Firm and impatient when it came to business.

"Good." She stood up. "I was hoping Eli caught you in time. I can't find that stupid key and I have Mrs. Larado coming in twenty minutes with two of her friends."