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Paula and I entered the sauna, eager to put a little distance between ourselves and the tipsy bridal party. The women were all nice enough, but we had come to have a relaxing day, and they were getting a little rowdy for our tastes. We left our swimsuits on, and I folded up my towel and used it as a little extra seat cushion in the sauna.
“Your tooshie is going to sweat, and you’re going to be sitting in a puddle,” Paula teased.
“I know,” I said. “But these benches are hard and I don’t have a better idea.”
Paula followed my lead and sat on her towel too. “So I’m curious, would you have become buddy-buddy with one of Jim’s exes?”
Paula nodded toward the door of the sauna where just outside the bridesmaid were all still splashing around in the hot tub like it was a community pool.
“No,” I said firmly. “Not that he dated any catches before me.” I winked slightly, and Paula laughed. “I mean, it’s none of my business, but I probably would have a hard time with that. And those two seemed really close.”
“Their bond over one man made them sisters,” Paula said and stuck her tongue out. “I mean, what do they even talk about to one another?”
“It’s a little weird,” I admitted. “My guess is that Merida didn’t date the groom for that long. So, anyway, what do you think about the spa? Maybe Jane North will hire you as a designer. They could use your help—”
A loud, horrible scream erupted from somewhere inside the spa stopping our conversation. We bolted out of the sauna, a gust of steam following us. The bachelorette party looked as stunned as we were, as they scrambled of out the Jacuzzis and grabbed their towels.
“That sounded like Kelly,” Mrs. Lozano said, panic pinching her face into a grim mask. She struggled out of the hot tub, and I offered her my hand.
We all poured out into the hall.
“Where’s Merida?” Paula questioned, and almost on cue the woman came hurdling down the hallway.
“What happened?” Merida asked. “I heard a scream.”
“Where were you?” Mrs. Lozano asked “Is Kelly with you?”
“No,” Merida said. “I was in the bathroom.”
The double doors leading into the room where the spa employees gave facials and massages swung open. Brittany ran out of the room, towel in hand, as she frantically wiped off a face mask.
“Call 911,” she screamed.
The doors burst open and a wild-eyed spa employee dressed in pink stood shaking before us. “We need a doctor! Is anyone here a doctor?”
“What’s happened?” Mrs. Lozano demanded. “Are you alright?” she asked Brittany.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Brittany shouted, bursting into tears. “It’s Kelly! She passed out and we can’t wake her up.” Brittany pointed a finger at the young spa employee. “It’s all her fault.”
The poor masseuse looked like she was going to fall over in shock. “I...I didn’t do anything!” she stammered. “Someone needs to call an ambulance right now!” She darted for the front desk to grab the phone. She was on the line with a 911 operator quickly.
“Could it be alcohol poising?” Paula asked. “She didn’t have that much to drink, did she?”
“It’s too late,” Brittany sobbed. “Kelly’s already dead!”
“What?” Mrs. Lozano exclaimed. “Dead?”
“I thought you said she’s passed out!” Merida screamed.
“Well, we can’t wake her and the masseuse said she couldn’t find a pulse. Go see for yourself,” Brittany said.
The group of young ladies seemed to simultaneously take a step back.
Paula and I rushed into the room, followed by Mrs. Lozano.
Kelly was lying on her back on a massage table, a green mask hardening on her face. The scent of cucumber and lime gagged me, and I covered my nose and mouth with my hand.
Paula frowned at me, but Mrs. Lozano barely noticed, grabbing and shaking the bride to be frantically, screaming, “Kelly, Kelly!”
Paula took Kelly’s wrist into hand and searched for a pulse.
Mrs. Lozano stopped shaking the bride and went limp; her shoulders collapsing into herself. “What am I going to tell Ryan?” she asked.
Outside, the girls were wailing as Jane rounded the corner with an annoyed look on her face. “What in the world is all of the shouting about? Do I need to cut you ladies off?” she asked.
Brittany, now examining her face in a mirror, screamed, “I look like a tomato!” She stormed over to the masseuse and yelled in her face, “You killed Kelly and almost burned my face off!”
“The...the paramedics are on the way,” the masseuse stuttered, looking ready to cry.
“What? Paramedics? What’s going on?” Jane asked.
The masseuse ran over to Jane, eyes full of tears. “Ms. North, I don’t know what happened, but I called the police...”
“Police? Why did you call the police? What happened?” Jane asked, looking even more frustrated now. She glanced in Brittany’s direction. “My goodness! What happened to her?”
Brittany’s face was swollen, and there were patches of skin that had looked raw. “Forget about me!” Brittany snarled. “Your masseuse killed the bride to be! She killed Kelly!”
“What?”
“I don’t know what happened!” the young woman cried. “I mixed the face mask the same as I always do!”
“It wasn’t the mask,” Paula said stepping out into the hallway. “At least I don’t think so.” She glanced at me. “What do you think, Kate?”
Before I could reply Jane attempted to rush into the room, but the masseuse blocked her. “The police said to keep everyone out of the room...who wasn’t, you know, medical necessary...” She burst into tears.
Jane wrapped her arms around her. “Hannah, don’t worry. Everything is going to work out.”
“Work out?” Brittany snapped. “For who? Not for my best friend who was murdered by this monster!”
The masseuse, whose name was apparently Hannah, broke away from Jane’s embrace. Her face was streaked with tears and black massacre. She whined, “It wasn’t my fault—”
“Oh boo-hoo!” Brittany screamed. “I ought to slam her face—”
“That’s enough!” I shouted and stood between Brittany and the increasingly hysterical Hannah. “The authorities will be here soon. For now, everyone needs to calm down!”
And amazingly, they listened to me. The hallway turned silent as everyone suddenly sucked up their tears and looked shell-shocked.
We didn’t have to wait long, soon sirens were wailing down the crowded San Francisco streets, bee-lining toward us.
A pair of uniformed paramedics were the first on the scene. They rushed through the spa like a hurricane, pushing Mrs. Lozano from Kelly’s side.
“I just don’t know how I’m going to tell Ryan,” Mrs. Lozano said, sinking on the sofa in the lobby next to Paula.
I went to sit next to them as one of the paramedics escorted Brittany outside to evaluate her. The bridesmaids were now crying –their happy tipsy phase permanently ruined by the loss of their friend.
Jane approached us. “Kate? May I speak to you privately in my office?”
The room around me started to shift. I suddenly felt like a kid being called into the Principal’s office.
Am I in trouble?
Paula squeezed my hand, and I stood to follow Jane down the hall to a back room that was her office.
“Listen,” she began. “Hannah is a good girl, and I know this unfortunate event is obviously not her doing. She’s loyal to this business, and she doesn’t have any connection that I know of to these women. Someone else must be involved. I have some security cameras up and running right now, but they’re in the room with the hot tub – and that’s only because it’s a safety precaution. The other cameras are down because of the construction. I need your help.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“I want to hire you,” she said. “You seem trustworthy, and I want to be completely transparent here. My business is everything. I can’t afford our reputation to get sullied.”
A flutter of nerves jagged through my body, making me anxious and excited at the same time.
“You want to hire me as your private investigator?” I asked.
“That’s what you do, right?” Jane asked.
Indeed!
I’d now become San Francisco’s premier post-partum detective!
