spoke to him this morning and he says that he left the spa at ten and
let his client out with him because she wasn’t going to bother changing out of her robe. He last saw Anna in the corridor,
waiting for her client to come out of the treatment room. From the spa he went directly to a birthday party in town.”
“So he’s got an alibi of sorts. What about things here at the inn? Have you lost any business because of what’s going on?”
“No—not yet, anyway. Josh and I have decided that we’re going to use the beauty salon to do treatments.”
She explained that the staff was currently in the process of setting up the waxing and facial rooms to handle massages and
that they would also offer them in guest rooms. The spa was going to be off-limits for several days, at least, but fortunately
they had extra massage tables and equipment stored in one of the outbuildings.
“I know things are going to be crazy,” I said, “but I’d like you to have Josh try to squeeze me in for a few treatments. Ideally,
I’d like to have some contact with Eric—and with Cordelia, too, since she’s a chatterbox.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” she said.
I also asked that she book me a lesson with the tennis pro, the one who’d been seen buzzing around Anna. His name was Rich
Wyler, she said, and he worked on a freelance basis. The inn wasn’t big enough to require a full-time teaching pro, so they
used a floater, someone who gave lessons at half a dozen hotels in the area. Part of his deal included free massages at the
spa. Danny said she’d have Natalie track him down and schedule something, probably for tomorrow.
“One more thing,” I told her. “I want to chat with Anna’s last client. Are you okay with me popping by her room? I thought
I could tell a little white lie and say I handle PR for you—and that you wanted me to make sure she was okay.”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea. Her name is Babs Hollingswood, and she and her husband are in room seventeen, on your floor.
I was hoping to contact her myself, but things have been insane.”
“Is George back yet, by the way?”
She pursed her lips, looking perplexed. “He’s not due back from his trip for a few hours,” she said. “I’m a little concerned
because I haven’t been able to reach him on his cell phone. He obviously has it turned off.”
“What kind of work is he involved in these days?” I asked.
She explained that George was now working with
her,
helping her expand the business. He’d gone to Boston to talk to someone about promoting the inn and spa for business retreats.
He had phoned her yesterday in the early evening, and the plan was for him to have dinner in Boston at seven with a potential
client, spend the night in a motel just outside the city, and be home by lunch today.
Oh God, I thought. I was in no position to criticize, having been married to a man who’d blown fifty grand on football pools
and pawned the jewelry he’d given me to prevent our apartment from being torched. But I didn’t like what I’d just heard from
Danny. Guys who glommed on to their wives’ businesses always gave me the creeps. Ditto for guys who went out of town, stayed
in motels, and failed to phone home.
Rather than add to her troubles, though, I assured her that everything was most likely fine. I’d have to see how I felt about
George when I finally met him.
“Now let’s talk financial records,” I said. “Have you got things computerized?”
“Yes, it’s all on a Quicken program.”
My volunteering to go through Danny’s financial records was on a par with my suggesting I should perform laparoscopic surgery
on someone’s knee, but I had a plan in my mind for how I was going to pull it off. Danny and I agreed that we would tackle
the project right after lunch. She was about to hold a meeting for the staff to explain to everyone what was going on. And
I, of course, had my appointment
let his client out with him because she wasn’t going to bother changing out of her robe. He last saw Anna in the corridor,
waiting for her client to come out of the treatment room. From the spa he went directly to a birthday party in town.”
“So he’s got an alibi of sorts. What about things here at the inn? Have you lost any business because of what’s going on?”
“No—not yet, anyway. Josh and I have decided that we’re going to use the beauty salon to do treatments.”
She explained that the staff was currently in the process of setting up the waxing and facial rooms to handle massages and
that they would also offer them in guest rooms. The spa was going to be off-limits for several days, at least, but fortunately
they had extra massage tables and equipment stored in one of the outbuildings.
“I know things are going to be crazy,” I said, “but I’d like you to have Josh try to squeeze me in for a few treatments. Ideally,
I’d like to have some contact with Eric—and with Cordelia, too, since she’s a chatterbox.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” she said.
I also asked that she book me a lesson with the tennis pro, the one who’d been seen buzzing around Anna. His name was Rich
Wyler, she said, and he worked on a freelance basis. The inn wasn’t big enough to require a full-time teaching pro, so they
used a floater, someone who gave lessons at half a dozen hotels in the area. Part of his deal included free massages at the
spa. Danny said she’d have Natalie track him down and schedule something, probably for tomorrow.
“One more thing,” I told her. “I want to chat with Anna’s last client. Are you okay with me popping by her room? I thought
I could tell a little white lie and say I handle PR for you—and that you wanted me to make sure she was okay.”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea. Her name is Babs Hollingswood, and she and her husband are in room seventeen, on your floor.
I was hoping to contact her myself, but things have been insane.”
“Is George back yet, by the way?”
She pursed her lips, looking perplexed. “He’s not due back from his trip for a few hours,” she said. “I’m a little concerned
because I haven’t been able to reach him on his cell phone. He obviously has it turned off.”
“What kind of work is he involved in these days?” I asked.
She explained that George was now working with
her,
helping her expand the business. He’d gone to Boston to talk to someone about promoting the inn and spa for business retreats.
He had phoned her yesterday in the early evening, and the plan was for him to have dinner in Boston at seven with a potential
client, spend the night in a motel just outside the city, and be home by lunch today.
Oh God, I thought. I was in no position to criticize, having been married to a man who’d blown fifty grand on football pools
and pawned the jewelry he’d given me to prevent our apartment from being torched. But I didn’t like what I’d just heard from
Danny. Guys who glommed on to their wives’ businesses always gave me the creeps. Ditto for guys who went out of town, stayed
in motels, and failed to phone home.
Rather than add to her troubles, though, I assured her that everything was most likely fine. I’d have to see how I felt about
George when I finally met him.
“Now let’s talk financial records,” I said. “Have you got things computerized?”
“Yes, it’s all on a Quicken program.”
My volunteering to go through Danny’s financial records was on a par with my suggesting I should perform laparoscopic surgery
on someone’s knee, but I had a plan in my mind for how I was going to pull it off. Danny and I agreed that we would tackle
the project right after lunch. She was about to hold a meeting for the staff to explain to everyone what was going on. And
I, of course, had my appointment
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