We never know the timber of a man’s soul until something cuts into him deeply and brings the grain out strong.
—Gene Stratton-Porter
Misty
Deputy Highcloud was several miles from the lodge. She asked me to hold so she could radio the Beech Mountain Police Department and get law enforcement en route faster. When she returned to the line, she said, “Be careful. If Glenn realizes you’re on to him, things could get dangerous.”
We ended the call and I turned to Rocky. “I have to protect my guests.”
“I’ll round up some hammers.”
We stepped out into the hallway. Rocky strode quickly down to his room, went inside, and returned with a hammer in each hand and Molasses at his knee. The dog trotted along beside his master, looking up in question. He seemed to sense something was up. He could probably smell our adrenaline.
Rocky handed me a hammer. Armed with the tools, we forced smiles to our faces and walked to the lobby.
Vera and her daughter stood at the desk, checking out. Brynn glanced over from behind the desk and saw the hammers in our hands. “What’s going on?”
My mind went blank, but luckily Rocky had an answer at the ready. “We need to fix the sign. It’s wobbly.”
I glanced out front. The bench next to the bear was empty now, Glenn no longer sitting there with his bouncing toe. His boho bag lay next to the bench, abandoned. Rocky and I went outside and looked around.
Joaquín was loading his luggage into the compartment underneath the bus. I hurried over to him and, trying to keep my voice calm, asked, “Have you seen Glenn?”
He turned around and gestured to the bench. “He was sitting there just a minute ago. Norma Jean came out and said she’d heard footsteps and voices coming from the attic. She asked if we knew what was going on.”
Rocky and I exchanged glances. Was Glenn on the run? Or had he simply gotten up from the bench to stretch his legs before the bus ride?
We hurried together to the east end of the lodge and looked around. No Glenn. We went to the west end and did the same. No Glenn. We went around to the back of the lodge. Still no Glenn.
Rocky glanced over at the Greasy Griddle. “Think he went over to the diner?”
I whipped out my phone again and called Patty. “Is Glenn over there? My tall guest with the bald head?”
There was a pause as she apparently surveyed the place. “No. I don’t see him anywhere. Why?”
“If he shows up, call the police.”
She gasped. “It was him?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It was him.”
A Beech Mountain Police Department cruiser turned into the parking lot and Officer Hardy pulled to the curb.
Rocky and I hurried over. As soon as Hardy rolled down his window, I said, “Glenn was sitting on the bench in front of my lodge just a few minutes ago, but now he’s gone!”
Officer Hardy scanned the surrounding area. “Any idea where he’d go?”
I started to shake my head, but, as I did, it was as if the motion made the puzzle pieces in my head fall into place. “He’s headed to the Lower Pond Creek Trail. I’m sure of it.”
Hardy reached over and pushed the passenger door open. “Get in. I’ve got to keep my eyes on the road. You two can watch the woods, see if you spot him.”
“I need to warn my staff and guests first.”
“Make it quick.”
I ran back inside and laid the hammer on the registration desk in case Brynn might need it. “Glenn killed Sasha. He’s disappeared. I think he’s gone to the Lower Pond Creek Trail. Rocky and I are going with Officer Hardy. If Glenn comes back here, call for help right away.”
Brynn gaped. So did Vera, Vera’s daughter, the joggers, and Joaquín, who’d followed me inside. The only one who didn’t gape was Heike. She pursed her lips and bobbed her head, as if my words affirmed something she had suspected but had been unable to confirm. I realized then that Glenn had likely mentioned the unexpected death of Heike’s husband in an attempt to deflect suspicion from himself.
I left the group with their mouths hanging open, sprinted back to the cruiser, and slid inside.
As we careened down the mountain, Officer Hardy radioed Deputy Highcloud to give her an update. Rocky and I kept our eyes peeled, peering through the thick woods. We could get only glimpses of the trail that led down to Lake Coffey and the trailhead for the Lower Pond Creek Trail. There was no sign of Glenn.
Panic gripped me, my heartbeat reverberating through my chest as if someone had banged a gong with all the might they could muster. What if I’m wrong? What if Glenn went somewhere else? He could be escaping on some other route while I led law enforcement on a wild-goose chase. But in my heart, I knew I was right.
As Officer Hardy’s cruiser came down Lakeledge Road, Deputy Highcloud’s SUV approached from the other direction. Officer Hardy turned and braked to a hard stop in the small lot by Lake Coffey. Deputy Highcloud’s SUV pulled in right after us. Two men with fishing poles watched as we leaped from the vehicles and scurried down to the trailhead.
When we reached the trail, Deputy Highcloud threw out an arm to hold me and Rocky back, much as mothers do when driving a car and forced to brake suddenly. “Stay behind us.” She pulled her gun from her belt to have it at the ready.
She and Officer Hardy crept quietly but quickly along the first wooden bridge and down the steps. Rocky and I followed a few steps behind, also doing our best to be fast but discreet. We made our way along the short stretch of dirt path before reaching the second bridge, the one that overlooked the small pool and waterfall. Sure enough, there stood Glenn, waist deep in the pool beneath the waterfall, his head turned up to the sky, eyes closed, water falling about his face and shoulders. His arms were raised, too, as if in worship or a plea. But while the water might wash away his sins, the North Carolina justice system would feel differently. No doubt he’d be going away for quite some time.
Deputy Highcloud held her gun at the ready by her side. “Come on out of there now, Glenn!”
He didn’t respond. It wasn’t clear whether he even knew we were here. He might not be able to hear her over the roar of the water in his ears. The deputy and Officer Hardy exchanged glances. They’d evidently never faced a situation quite like this before.
Officer Hardy tried to get Glenn’s attention this time. He stuck his gun back in his holster, cupped his hands around his mouth, and hollered, “Hey! Glenn! Hello!” When Glenn still didn’t respond, he shook his head. “I’d say ‘hands up’, but his hands are already up.”
The deputy reached down and picked up a stone. “He’s left me no other choice.” She pulled her hand back and skipped the stone across the pond. It bounced twice before smacking Glenn in the ribs. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and looked our way. On seeing the officers, he lowered his arms, but only to his shoulders. He seemed to realize that keeping them up was the smart thing to do.
Deputy Highcloud motioned him forward. He strode slowly through the water, making his way to the bridge. “Easy now,” she said. “No sudden moves.”
“I won’t hurt anyone,” Glenn said, his voice full of sorrow and regret. “Not again.”
He put his hands on the railing and pulled himself up and onto the bridge. He stood there, dripping, Sasha’s green eye on his Third Eye T-shirt appearing to cry as water ran from it. Like the water spilling over the boulders, Glenn, too, spilled everything.
“I didn’t go to her room intending to kill her,” he said. “But I didn’t like the way she was doing things. Spirituality shouldn’t be for sale. She didn’t treasure the singing bowl the way she should have, for its spiritual value. It was merely a possession to her, a valuable trinket, not a sacred relic.”
He went on to say that he didn’t like the way she ran her classes, as if feeling good and experiencing peace was a prize to be awarded in her game show. Sasha had gotten sucked into all the trappings of yoga practice without truly embracing its intent, the mind/body connection, the peace it was intended to provide. She’d only been in it for the income.
He cast a look at me and Rocky. “I snuck into her room through the attic. Misty and Rocky seem to have figured that out. I only meant to take the bowl, to cherish it as it should be. She’d drunk so much wine I didn’t expect her to wake up. When she did, she spotted me in her room and I panicked. I grabbed her pillow and put it over her face. I only meant to silence her. I thought if I could render her unconscious, I could leave the bowl behind, sneak back out of her room, and she’d just think she’d had a strange dream. But I guess I held the pillow down too long.” He gulped a sob. “When I realized she was gone, I dragged her outside. I thought I could hide her body somewhere. But I couldn’t get far in the dark, so I left her under the deck. I climbed back through her window and locked it behind me out of habit. I figured I could make her death look like a botched burglary if I took the bowl and her jewelry.”
Deputy Highcloud asked, “Where are those things now?”
“Under the insulation in the attic above her room. I hid them there.”
The deputy pulled a pair of handcuffs from her belt. “Turn around please.”
Glenn complied, allowing her to pull his wrists together and shackle them.
She put a hand on his shoulder to guide him. “Let’s go.”
Rocky, Officer Hardy, and I followed along as Deputy Highcloud led Glenn up the trail to her SUV. She placed him in the back and turned to Hardy. “Follow me to the lodge. I need to round up the bowl and jewelry.”
Rocky and I climbed back into the cruiser with Officer Hardy. We followed the deputy’s SUV as she wound her way back up to the lodge.
We pulled into the parking lot to find all of the guests standing out front, including Sammie and Cole. When the group spotted Glenn in the back of the SUV, they turned to one another and no doubt told how they’d always suspected him, how he’d always seemed too serene, how they’d been able to tell he had it in for Sasha.
Madman turned his back to the deputy’s SUV and snapped a selfie with his tongue out, his fingers forming his trademark M, and Glenn’s profile in the background. After taking the photo, he looked my way. “What’s the name of this place again?”
Rocky answered for me. “The Tranquility Lodge.” He slid me a surreptitious smile before rounding up a ladder from the outdoor storage shed so Deputy Highcloud could search the attic.
She returned a few minutes later with the bowl and jewelry secured in clear plastic evidence bags, and bade the group goodbye. “You folks take care now.”
The deputy drove off with Glenn. Officer Hardy drove off, too.
As the last representative of Third Eye Studio & Spa remaining, Heike was now in charge. She pointed her index finger and swung her arm toward the bus. “Everyone aboard. Let’s go home.”