reliever.”
“Just what I need,” I said. “Though I’m sure with everything that’s happened, you must feel as stressed as I do.”
“I’m fine, actually.” So much for her being a talker. Maybe finding out one of her colleagues had been murdered on-site had
robbed her of the gift of gab.
Before she began the massage, she set two large stones in the palms of my hands, almost like ballast. I felt kind of silly,
like a piece of tarp being used to cover a hole in the ground. But then she started her magic. The stones she used for the
massage were warm and smooth and lightly slicked with oil. She moved them over my back and neck in strong, hypnotic strokes,
and before long I felt my muscles let go, totally seduced. I lay there like a big blob, savoring every minute of it. There
was no music being piped in—obviously this room wasn’t set up for it—and the only sound I could hear as she worked was her
breathing. Shallow, from being overweight perhaps. I felt myself start to drift off, and I opened my eyes, forcing myself
to stay awake. Through the circular hole in the head cradle, I stared at the tiles on the floor. I was startled when one of
Cordelia’s tiny feet came into view. It was like catching a glimpse of something I wasn’t supposed to see.
When she was done with side one, Cordelia removed the face cradle and held a towel between us as I flipped over. Before she
began on my legs, she placed small, slim stones between my toes. It was borderline erotic, almost as good as having my toes
sucked by a guy. I couldn’t understand why Cordelia wasn’t considered one of the spa superstars.
Despite her talent, once I was on my back, the switch in my mind flicked on again. I kept seeing myself thrashing through
the woods like a deer on the run from a hunter. Who had been following me? Was it
Josh?
He hadn’t liked my suggestion about camping out in the spa. After reporting to the salon, he might have doubled back to the
solarium and seen me heading for the reserve.
“That was terrific,” I managed to say when Cordelia finished my massage by misting my feet with scented water. “You must have
quite the following.”
“I’m glad you liked it. Why don’t you take a minute to relax before getting up, and I’ll meet you outside.”
She had about as much interest in chatting today as a highway toll taker.
When I slipped out of the room a moment later, I spotted her down the corridor. She was leaning against the wall, talking
to Eric, who apparently was also waiting for a client to emerge. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her body was in
a flirty pose. He watched her intently, his face expressionless. When she noticed me, she sprang away from the wall and, turning
all professional again, escorted me to the reception area. He ignored me completely.
There were no showers in the salon, so I snuck upstairs wearing a robe, my clothes bunched under my arm. I noticed the light
on the phone blinking as soon as I walked in my room. It was a message from Danny. Though she planned to stay at the inn tonight,
she was heading to her house for a few hours. She suggested that we meet for breakfast at eight-thirty and catch up. She’d
gone through the invoices and found two that she was concerned about. She would bring them to breakfast to show me.
I blew off the idea of dinner in the dining room. Not only did I feel oily from the massage, but I was also too wrung out
from my
Blair Witch
chase in the woods. After ordering from room service, I pulled out my composition book and jotted down notes and impressions
from my conversation with Josh. I was eager to know what Danny had turned up.
I also couldn’t help but wonder where Beck was. He hadn’t worn a wedding ring, so perhaps he was still single—or divorced.
Maybe he was spending his Saturday night at Chuck E. Cheese, doing the divorced dad thing amid a million screeching kids.
Though chances were that
“Just what I need,” I said. “Though I’m sure with everything that’s happened, you must feel as stressed as I do.”
“I’m fine, actually.” So much for her being a talker. Maybe finding out one of her colleagues had been murdered on-site had
robbed her of the gift of gab.
Before she began the massage, she set two large stones in the palms of my hands, almost like ballast. I felt kind of silly,
like a piece of tarp being used to cover a hole in the ground. But then she started her magic. The stones she used for the
massage were warm and smooth and lightly slicked with oil. She moved them over my back and neck in strong, hypnotic strokes,
and before long I felt my muscles let go, totally seduced. I lay there like a big blob, savoring every minute of it. There
was no music being piped in—obviously this room wasn’t set up for it—and the only sound I could hear as she worked was her
breathing. Shallow, from being overweight perhaps. I felt myself start to drift off, and I opened my eyes, forcing myself
to stay awake. Through the circular hole in the head cradle, I stared at the tiles on the floor. I was startled when one of
Cordelia’s tiny feet came into view. It was like catching a glimpse of something I wasn’t supposed to see.
When she was done with side one, Cordelia removed the face cradle and held a towel between us as I flipped over. Before she
began on my legs, she placed small, slim stones between my toes. It was borderline erotic, almost as good as having my toes
sucked by a guy. I couldn’t understand why Cordelia wasn’t considered one of the spa superstars.
Despite her talent, once I was on my back, the switch in my mind flicked on again. I kept seeing myself thrashing through
the woods like a deer on the run from a hunter. Who had been following me? Was it
Josh?
He hadn’t liked my suggestion about camping out in the spa. After reporting to the salon, he might have doubled back to the
solarium and seen me heading for the reserve.
“That was terrific,” I managed to say when Cordelia finished my massage by misting my feet with scented water. “You must have
quite the following.”
“I’m glad you liked it. Why don’t you take a minute to relax before getting up, and I’ll meet you outside.”
She had about as much interest in chatting today as a highway toll taker.
When I slipped out of the room a moment later, I spotted her down the corridor. She was leaning against the wall, talking
to Eric, who apparently was also waiting for a client to emerge. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her body was in
a flirty pose. He watched her intently, his face expressionless. When she noticed me, she sprang away from the wall and, turning
all professional again, escorted me to the reception area. He ignored me completely.
There were no showers in the salon, so I snuck upstairs wearing a robe, my clothes bunched under my arm. I noticed the light
on the phone blinking as soon as I walked in my room. It was a message from Danny. Though she planned to stay at the inn tonight,
she was heading to her house for a few hours. She suggested that we meet for breakfast at eight-thirty and catch up. She’d
gone through the invoices and found two that she was concerned about. She would bring them to breakfast to show me.
I blew off the idea of dinner in the dining room. Not only did I feel oily from the massage, but I was also too wrung out
from my
Blair Witch
chase in the woods. After ordering from room service, I pulled out my composition book and jotted down notes and impressions
from my conversation with Josh. I was eager to know what Danny had turned up.
I also couldn’t help but wonder where Beck was. He hadn’t worn a wedding ring, so perhaps he was still single—or divorced.
Maybe he was spending his Saturday night at Chuck E. Cheese, doing the divorced dad thing amid a million screeching kids.
Though chances were that
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