Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 05 Page 5

  “I’m tired. You’re right. I overdid it. But I felt so energetic this morning. I even baked cupcakes for the boys. Do you want a cupcake?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Did you have enough to eat?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She slipped her hand underneath his shirt. Decker felt dizzy from the aroma of her skin. “You telling me something, darlin’?”

  “You have time, Peter?”

  He sat up and loosened his tie. “Honey, I’ll make time.”

  “Aren’t I lucky to have a man who makes his own hours.”

  “Good perks, huh?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  Decker unbuttoned his shirt. He was glad Marge hadn’t come.

  Stepping onto Planet VULCAN was like entering another world.

  One that Marge at least had never seen before.

  The lobby of the spa was a ballroom-sized rotunda, the ceiling domed and imprinted with gilt-tinged vines and flowers that trailed down the plaster walls. The floor was cut from peach-veined marble and partially covered by a thick, green-and-peach Chinese rug thirty feet in diameter. Atop the rug were several seating groups. A brocade sofa, flanked by gold-trimmed occasional tables, was occupied by three sunlamp-tanned women looking to be in their thirties. They were dressed in short shorts and T-shirts and were giggling like teenagers. They also had perfect figures—too perfect, not an unwanted bump or bulge anywhere. The two velvet wingbacks were taken up by leotard-clad, college-age girls. Towels draped around their necks, they sipped some tropical drink made with lots of crushed ice and examined their long red fingernails.

  Three middle-aged women sat in burnt-leather club chairs around an oversized onyx backgammon table, laughing loudly, showing off white teeth. Two love seats near the fireplace held pairings of young and older women—mothers and daughters possibly. The ladies were using the marble coffee table placed between the settees as a footrest.

  The hearth was set into the rear wall, the carved mantel curved to hug the circumference of the room. Against the left wall was a highly polished mahogany staircase that ended at a second-story landing. The reception desk—done in more peach-veined marble—was to the right.

  A tuxedoed waiter, carrying a tray of something flesh-colored in highball glasses, walked up to Marge, eyes heavy with disapproval. But he kept a stiff upper lip.

  “Your guava-passion-fruit refresher, ma’am?”

  His accent was affected-English.

  “Any of them laced with Stolichnaya?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Or just plain bar vodka will do.”

  “No alcohol is allowed—”

  “Forget it, Jeeves.”

  She patted his back and strolled over to the reception desk. A bespectacled young woman—also in leotards—looked up from the cashier’s desk. Her initial smile dimmed when she saw Marge.

  “May I help you, madame?”

  Not madam, mind you, ma-dame. Another little taut body with big boobs. This one had short short hair and features sharp enough to cut meat. Her name tag identified her as Ms. F. Purcel.

  “It’s mademoiselle if you want to be technical,” said Marge, “and yes you can help me. I’m Detective Dunn from the LAPD. I’d like to speak with Kelley Ness.”

  Moving her lips, Purcel studied the ID card. “May I ask what this is about?”

  “Why don’t you let me talk to Kelley Ness. Then if she wants you to know, she can tell you herself.”

  Purcel sighed. “One moment. Have a seat—No…maybe you could just wait in the corner.”

  Marge smiled but didn’t move. The clerk gave up and went to the switchboard, back turned as she talked into the phone. It took about a minute before she hung up.

  “I’m unable to locate Ms. Ness. May I take a message?”

  Marge leaned over the desk. “Why don’t you call again, ma’am.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Call again.”

  Ms. Purcel opened and closed her mouth, then about-faced and picked up the phone. Another minute passed before she returned.

  “I’ve located Ms. Ness.”

  “The phantom returneth.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Where is she?”

  Purcel became very official. “Take the staircase on the left to the second floor. Ms. Ness is in office B on the right side.” Then she added, “She’s very busy.”

  Marge said, “Well, aren’t we all, ma-dame.”

  The office was wedge-shaped. Austere-looking, especially when compared to the ornate lobby. Its walls were hung with cheap poster art. Small windows looked out to an Olympic-sized pool. The desk, piled high with loose papers, was functional and nothing more. The woman in the secretary’s chair looked to be around twenty-five. Her face was pretty but angry, brown eyes smoldering. She tossed poker-straight hair over her shoulders and shuffled some papers.

  Marge waited until Little Miss Irate had the decency to acknowledge her. The squaring off took about a half minute. Irate raised her eyes and waited for Marge to speak.

  “You’re Kelley Ness?”

  “You’ve found me.”

  Marge started to pull up a chair.

  “You needn’t bother to sit, Detective. The civil suit was frivolous enough. Ms. Betham is just furthering her troubles by going to the police. Miss Brecht is not expected in today, but if you give me your card, I’ll give it to her and she can forward your name to our lawyers. I’m sure they will educate you.”

  Marge sat, thought a moment before she spoke. “Do you know where Miss Brecht is?”

  “She checks in with us frequently. I assure you she’ll get the card.”

  “Did she check in with you today?”

  Kelley hesitated, her eyes suddenly thoughtful. “I’ll forward your card. Now if you’ll excuse—”

  “Was Miss Brecht expected to come in today?”

  “What difference does it make? She won’t talk to you without advice of an attorney—”

  “I’m not interested in talking to Miss Brecht, Kelley. I only want to know if Miss Brecht was expected to come in today. Or did she take the day off?”

  Kelley bit her lip. “You’re asking strange questions.”

  “On the contrary, they’re not strange questions. They’re just not the ones you expected. So keep things simple and answer them.”

  Kelley paused. “Miss Brecht took the day off.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Not at all. She frequently takes Wednesdays off. She experiments with new recipes for the kitchen. What’s this all about, anyway?”

  “She hasn’t called in, has she?”

  “No, she hasn’t.”

  “Then you probably don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Miss Brecht was attacked last night—”

  “My God!” Kelley’s hand went to her throat. “Who…Is she all right?”

  “She’s going to be okay. She was beaten. She’s in the hospital now, but she’s conscious. I need a guest and employee list—everyone who was on the grounds last night. Especially the men.”

  Kelley covered her mouth and shook her head. “This is outrag…God, I’m shocked. This is horrible. Does her mother—?”

  “We’ll take care of her mother, Kelley. I’m requesting that you don’t talk to anyone about it.”

  “Of course. How about Frederick? Does he know? Frederick’s her brother.”

  “He’s being contacted.”

  “I don’t know what to say….” Kelley said. “I’m…”

  “Were you here last night?”

  “Of course. I live on the premises.”

  “Then you know who else was here last night. I’ll need that list as soon as possible.”

  “You don’t suspect any of the guests—”

  “We’ll be as discreet as we possibly can.”

  “Where is Miss Brecht?” Kelley said. “Can I call h
er?”

  “My partner is going to talk to her soon. I’ll tell him you’d like to speak with Miss Brecht. Back to the list, Kelley. I’m especially interested in the men who work here—cooks, janitors, handymen, teachers. Do you have male instructors?”

  “Just Eubie Jeffers and my broth—Oh, you can’t possibly think they had anything to do with Lilah.”

  “What kind of suit is this Ms. Betham involved with?”

  Kelley wrinkled her forehead. “Ms. Betham is a psychotic old witch. She actually had the audacity to claim that…that one of the men who works here made a pass at her.”

  “Which one?”

  “The whole suit is ridicu—”

  “Which man?” Marge pushed.

  Kelley hesitated, then said, “My brother, Mike. If you knew my brother, you’d know how inane the suit is. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since you’re not investigating that…she was the one who made a pass at my brother. And when he refused, she became vicious. We have none of that kind of nonsense in Valley Canyon Spa. Most of our clients have been referred to us by former clients. She was what we call a ‘walk-in.’ They’re always the ones who give us the most problems.”

  “Was your brother, Mike, here last night?” Marge asked.

  Kelley’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not saying anything. I’m not even suggesting anything, Kelley, I’m simply asking. Was your brother on the premises last night?”

  “He lives here.”

  “Your brother often visits Miss Brecht’s house, doesn’t he?”

  “No, he doesn’t often visit Miss Brecht’s house!”

  “I mean to pick vegetables from the garden, maybe fix the sink…that kind of thing.”

  “Oh…” Kelley relaxed her shoulders. “Yes. Lilah does send him on errands for her. That should show you how much she trusts him.”

  Marge remained casual. “You want to start compiling that list, I’ll look around the grounds, get my bearings. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Kelley had turned pale. “I’m not sure I should do anything without Ms. Brecht’s say-so.”

  “Ms. Ness, why aren’t you jumping to help out? Your employer was attacked, beaten. Don’t you want to find who did it?”

  “Of course I do! It’s just such a shock—My God, this is unbelievable!”

  Marge stood, slung her purse over her shoulder. “You know the best thing to do when you’ve been jolted by something like this? You do something concrete. Like make a list. The little details always bring you back to earth. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

  “I guess—”

  “I’ll be wandering around,” Marge said. “Page me when you have the list.”

  “Detective!” Kelley blurted out. “Detective, no offense, but I don’t want to scare the women by having the police nose around.”

  “I understand completely. I guarantee you, I won’t be disruptive.” Marge winked. “Hey, I’ll grab myself a guava juice and blend in with the crowd.”

  5

  The group had begun the cool-down portion of the workout when Mike Ness heard his name over the loudspeaker. Towel wrapped around his neck, tank top soaked with perspiration, he told his ladies to “keep it moving” while he answered the page. The afternoon high-impact aerobics class was held in the Jazzarena, its back wall a giant mural of famous musicians. The room’s phone was embedded between Dizzy Gillespie’s eyes. Ness picked up the receiver.

  “Mike, I just want to warn you. The police are here, poking around.”

  Ness couldn’t answer. He felt his heart race.

  “Apparently something happened to Lilah last night—”

  “What!”

  “She was attacked, Mike.”

  Ness felt his knees buckle. Why did everything he touch turn to shit? “Wha…what happened, Kell?”

  “I only know that she’s in the hospital. I don’t even know which one. I’m going to do some calling around. You don’t know anything about this, do you?”

  “Of course not!”

  Kelley paused. “Please. Just act normal. If the detective asks you where you were last night, say you were sleeping in your room, okay?”

  “I was sleeping in my room. What the hell are you saying?”

  Kelley sighed. “I’m nervous, Mike. I mean, the detective—she’s a woman by the way—she was professional but pushy. All of us should just stay calm and cool, all right?”

  “I am calm and cool.”

  “Well, bully for you.”

  “That was mature, Kell.”

  Kelley paused again. “Michael, I’m scared!”

  “Have you spoken to Davida?”

  “She’s not in. I don’t even know if she knows about it. The detective didn’t want me talking to her but screw that! I can’t get hold of Freddy, either. I don’t know what to do, Mike.”

  “There’s nothing to do, Kell. What are you worried about?”

  “I just didn’t like her attitude. She was too inquisitive.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t detectives supposed to be inquisitive?”

  “No, it was more. She was like accusing everyone.”

  Ness felt the phone slipping out of his hand. He wiped his sweaty palm on his gym shorts. “Accusing who?”

  “She wants a list of all the men who work here.”

  “Was Lilah raped?” Ness whispered into the phone.

  “I don’t know.”

  Ness took a deep breath. “Give her what she wants. I’ve got to button up this class—”

  “The detective will want to talk to you.”

  “So?”

  “So…is that okay?”

  “Yes, it’s okay!”

  “I’m sorry, Mike, I’m just so nervous!”

  Ness sighed. Little Kelley always did have a nervous tummy, always throwing up before finals. “Calm down, sis. Do some deep breathing.”

  “It’s just that this job is so important to me—”

  “Kell, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later.”

  Ness hung up, clapped his hands, jogged to the front of the room. Its mirrored wall was bisected horizontally by a ballet barre.

  “Nice job, ladies. Real nice job. Now that you’ve burned off approximately two hundred and fifty calories and sweated off your weight in salts, you should immediately be thinking about what?”

  A middle-aged woman in striped leotards yelled out, “Electrolytes!”

  “Exactly,” Ness said. “Your electrolytes are sorely in need of rebalancing, so we have for your dining pleasure our famous potassium-rich broth and organic veggies grown in Lilah Brecht’s own garden. These comestibles are being served in the lobby from three-fifteen to three-forty-five. Be sure to partake of the feast and your body will say thank you. I’ll see you all at four for yoga.”

  Wiping his face and neck, Ness waited in the rear as the women filed out. After the ladies left, he walked over to the video-camera stand, peered into the camera’s lens, and stuck out his tongue. Then he turned off the machine.

  No sense worrying about fuckups when they’re out of your control.

  He removed the camcorder from the stand. It was one of those tiny buggers—fitted snugly in the palm of his hand. Perfect for shooting on the sly. He’d check the tape later, see if it picked up all his body exercises, how he moved to the beat. He enjoyed watching his tapes, liked seeing his lithe body move and sweat, liked the defined muscles of his arms and legs. He knew he’d never be Schwarzenegger—he wasn’t the buffed-up type—but at least now he felt good about the way he looked. You had to look good always or it was all over with the ladies….

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a chickadoodle approaching him. Just what he needed—another sex-starved teenybopper. She was built, and not shy about showing it off. Her smile was too white to be natural.

  “Hi, I’m Aurora,” she said.

  “Hi.” Ness shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest. “Have a good w
orkout?”

  “Great.”

  “Good to hear, Aurora.”

  “Really gets the endorphins going, ya know?”

  “It can, that’s true.”

  “I can feel it.”

  “Good.” Ness started backing away. “Keep it up.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Ness looked at his watch, then at the chick. She seemed nervous, waiting for him to make his move. She was going to wait for a long time. “What’s up?”

  “Umm…I wanted to know if we should be taking salt pills?”

  A good fake, Ness thought. What she really wanted to know was if he was available for fucking.

  “Not necessarily, Aurora,” Ness said. “Our consommé is a perfectly balanced electrolye replenisher—sodium as well as potassium.” He strolled toward the door. “That’s why it’s so important that you take your broth break. The liquid contains everything your body needs. We sell it at our health-food store. Be sure to buy some when you leave the spa. After your home workout, your salts will be depleted same as here. If you have our broth, you won’t have to worry a bit about your electrolytes.” He stopped talking when he hit the threshold. “Anything else?”

  “No, that’s okay. I can see you’re in a hurry.”

  “You just caught me at a bad time.” Ness flashed what he hoped was a disarming smile. “I’ll be here for yoga if you think of anything else.”

  “Thanks. I’m going in for the broth right now.”

  Ness waited until she was gone before he allowed the anxiety to resurface. What the hell had happened last night to bring the police out nosing around? He tossed the damp towel in the hamper and was about to lock the door. Sensing someone behind him, he turned. He knew without introduction that he had found the chick detective.

  Actually, it was more like she had found him.

  As he cruised the 405 Freeway south, Decker thought about the baby. It had been his idea. Not that Rina hadn’t wanted children. But she would have preferred to wait a couple of years, let everyone get to know one another as a family before adding another member. Even though he was forty-two, she was only thirty and it was maternal age that was the big factor in problem pregnancies.