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By the time Mitch arrived for the spa’s grand opening the following morning, the driveway was filled with men. Most of them old. They carried banners and signs. Mitch read a few and cocked an eyebrow. Equality for all men. Men are people too. Stop Sexorcism Now!
Mitch spotted Matt, dressed in his police uniform, standing at the side of the crowd.
“Sexorcism?” Mitch said by way of hello.
Matt looked disgusted. “I’m pretty sure they meant sexism. Although with this lot, it could mean something else. Like they don’t want anyone casting out horny ghosts.”
The two men looked at each other and grinned.
“Ghostbusters,” they said at the same time, then shared a high five.
“The original and best,” Matt said sagely.
They watched as the crowd were led in a chant by Archie McPherson and the rest of the Domino Boys: “What do we want? Equality. When do we want it? Now!”
“Not very creative,” Mitch said.
“Aye, it would have been more accurate if they’d shouted they wanted manicures.”
“I thought this was sorted last week when Jodie opened the place up as unisex.”
“Apparently the men want more than a waxing.” Matt looked disgusted at the thought.
“Aren’t you going to get rid of them?”
“Nope, they legally have the right to protest.”
“Even on private land?”
“Unless they’re disrupting business or intimidating anyone, they have the right to stay.”
“This isn’t disturbing business?” Mitch waved an arm at the crowd.
“Nobody has had any problems getting in or out of the building. The Domino Boys even made sure they left space for parking. They retained the services of Lawrence to keep them within the law.”
The two men looked over at the town’s new lawyer, who seemed bewildered at the mess he’d helped cause.
“Is that a pie stall?” Mitch said as the crowd moved and he caught sight of a sign on the other side of the carpark area.
“Morag McKay arrived about ten minutes after the protest started. She closed her bakery to set up here. Morag wouldn’t miss an opportunity to make some fast cash. Then, when she got here, some idiot told her that the spa offered therapeutic massage. Of course, all Morag heard was the word massage, so she called in her cronies to protest against having a brothel in town.”
Mitch had to resist the urge to pinch himself just to make sure he was awake. “She went from therapeutic massage to brothel?”
“Aye. Her thought process is a mysterious thing. Of course, she felt the need to inform me that she now plans to protest. She said she was giving me a chance to shut this ‘den of iniquity’ down before she took matters public. Then, before I could even tell her she was off her trolley, she was over there giving the newspaper an interview.”
“Is it just me, or is Invertary getting worse? Is there such a thing as collective insanity?”
Matt’s lips thinned. “Oh, it gets even better. In the middle of all this crap, Betty MacLeod is touting for business.”
Matt pointed to the stone portico over the main entrance to the old church. Mitch took a couple of steps to the left to see what he was talking about. There, beside the door, was a deck chair with a notebook, pen and bullhorn sitting on it. Beside the chair was the life-sized cut-out of Lake Benson that had gone missing years earlier. Lake was shown wearing only underpants, his hands on his hips. Someone, Betty presumably, had taped a sign to his bare chest. It read: Sign up for the Lake Benson Wax Special.
Mitch was mesmerised by the sight. “Does Lake know he’s promoting Betty’s new venture?”
“I haven’t told him, but I did take photos.”
As they watched, Betty waddled back to her spot, put a paper bag filled with pies on the chair and lifted the bullhorn.
“Roll up, roll up,” she shouted. “Make your waxing appointment today.” There was a pause where she rummaged around in the bag, came out with a pie and took a bite. When she’d finished chewing, she shouted again. “Archie McPherson, you’re a hairy bugger. Get over here and let me sort you out. You look like Bigfoot. You’ll never catch women looking like that. You could plait the hair growing out of your nose.” She took another bite of pie while she seemed to think that over. When she’d finished, she turned to face the spa doors and shouted through the bullhorn, “Jodie, can you wax nostrils?”
“We should sell tickets,” Mitch said.
“I’m glad you get a kick out of it,” Matt said. “You don’t need to stand here all day monitoring these lunatics.”
A disturbance attracted their attention back to Morag’s pie stand. Three women in matching polyester coats had turned up and were unfurling a banner. They stood beside the stand, holding the banner high. It read: Keep Invertary Prostitution Free.
A fourth woman held up a placard that said: This Spa Sells Sex.
As the men in the crowd read the placard, there was a murmur of excited interest.
“Crap,” Matt said. “I’m going to have to borrow Betty’s bullhorn to tell all these idiots that the spa isn’t a brothel. Now they’ll be campaigning harder to get in there, just to see if it’s true.”
There was a roar of laughter at the back of the crowd and Mitch spotted the young guys from the town meeting, Rab something and his friends. They were making lewd gestures and pointing at Morag’s signs.
Matt made a growling noise in the back of his throat. “I need to run those idiots out of town. I think a couple of them broke into the spa last night, but I’ve no proof.”
Mitch’s spine snapped straight. “Is everybody okay? Did they do much damage?”
Matt gave him a cheeky sideways glance. “Don’t worry. Deke scared them off before they did any damage. The woman of your dreams is fine. And aye, before you ask, Josh filled us all in on how you’re suffering from lust at first sight.”
“Rat bastard,” Mitch muttered. He was going to get that tattooed on his best friend’s forehead one of these days.
“So,” Matt said gleefully, “she still knocking you back, then?”
Mitch eyed his friend and wondered what penalty Scottish law had for assaulting an officer.
––––––––
“This is a bloody disaster,” Deke said quietly to Jodie as they watched the crowd through the window in the spa reception area. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, aware that there was a client waiting for her appointment on the sofa behind them and trying to keep their conversation low enough so as not to freak the woman out. “We set up a safe haven for abused women and it’s surrounded by men. It’s like we’re under siege. At least Fiona is long gone. She’d be cowering in the panic room if she was here.” He eyed Jodie. “You read that email from Tara?”
Jodie felt her stomach flip. “I know that one of the Hampstead Heath staff was assaulted last week.”
Deke’s face said it all. This wasn’t good news for anyone. An attack like this one could mean someone’s husband or boyfriend was on the hunt. Still, there was no way to be sure. Not until they heard from the woman who’d been assaulted, and unfortunately, she was still unconscious.
“Brenda went through the Hampstead Heath centre.” Deke’s voice was without emotion, but his body practically vibrated with pent-up rage. “She spent months recovering in the flat the group has over the drop-in centre.”
“Don’t panic yet. Nobody knows the flat is there. I’ve seen it. It’s like Anne Frank’s house; the entrance is hidden behind a secret door.” Jodie had briefly run a self-defence class at the centre when she was living in London. Another thing her ex hated about her. Not the volunteering, the fact Jodie had taught women how to disable a man, instead of teaching them how to do a home manicure.
“Yeah, but someone on the staff would know about her, right? She was in a rough state when she was there. Someone had to have brought her food, supplies, checked on her. That sort of thing. What if the attacker beat that out of the London staff member?”
He had a point. Unfortunately, there was no way to know for sure if the attack was connected to the network, or what information the woman may have divulged. Jodie lowered her voice further, aware that people were moving around in the reception area behind them. “Do we tell Brenda about the assaulted worker?”
“I’ll keep an eye on her, but I don’t think we should tell her. We’ll see what Tara finds out from the hospital once this woman wakes up. Why worry Bren if this has nothing to do with her? She’s happy here and settling in well. I don’t want to ruin that for her.”
Jodie wasn’t so sure that was the right course of action. If she’d been in Brenda’s shoes, she’d want to know if her ex was on the hunt for her as early as possible. But then, she wasn’t Brenda. Jodie hadn’t taken a beating that almost killed her. No, if Brenda’s ex came at Jodie, he’d be the one who ended up in hospital.
“Okay, we wait for Tara, but we tighten security.”
“Yeah.” Deke’s deadly tone said it all.
They both knew there was nothing like too much caution when it came to protecting the women. Their own experience growing up in refuges had taught them that if a man wanted to find you, if he was willing to do anything to do it, to tug at any tiny thread of a lead, no matter how small, then there was a good chance he would find you. Jodie tamped down the memories from her childhood that came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It wasn’t that she denied their existence. It was just that they had no place in her life as it was now. She’d learned a long time ago that those memories had no power over her, and she wouldn’t allow them to drag her back down to a time in her life when they did.
“Did Tara mention if there was anyone who could replace Fiona?” Deke asked.
“There’s no one in the programme with the skills we need, and we’re not in the position to train someone up right now. I’ll have to advertise locally and cover the manicures until we get a replacement.” It wasn’t Jodie’s favourite thing to do, but she could cover in a pinch. Her speciality had been sports massage—it was how she’d met her ex-husband—but she’d taken classes in all sorts of beauty techniques over the years. She’d always been preparing for the day when she opened her own business. Now that day was here.
And it was a freaking disaster.
She looked out the window at the raucous crowd. The men had turned their protest into a party and were clearly having a nice social time of it. Good to know they were having fun at her expense—at the expense of the women who really didn’t need any more crap in their lives.
“Robin is threatening to make poison-laced brownies to feed the crowd,” Deke said. “I’m tempted to let her. I thought you dealt with this protest crap at the town meeting.”
“I did deal with it at the meeting. Unfortunately, male stupidity often takes more than one confrontation to be squashed. It’s been my experience that men aren’t so great at listening to a woman the first time she says something.”
Deke ran a hand over the top of his head. Even though he was a couple of years out of the Army, Deke’s hair was still far too short for him. It made his features seem sharp.
“Are you going to launch into another feminist rant?” he said.
Jodie narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t rant. I educate.” Something she’d been doing to her younger brother for most of his life.
“We can’t let this carry on.” Deke gestured to the crowd.
“How do you propose we deal with it? The police can’t do anything. The protestors are legally within their rights to drive us mental. We’re just going to have to sit it out.”
“For how long?”
Jodie had been the one to go out and talk to Archie McPherson. “Who knows? Until they get bored or something more interesting comes along.”
Deke let out a stream of curses. “There must be something legal we can do. We need to talk to a lawyer.”
“Considering these guys hired the only lawyer in town, that would mean going into Fort William, or calling around until we find someone willing to come up here. It could take weeks to sort out the help we need and they will probably have run out of steam by then.”
Deke’s eyes went to the edge of the crowd. “There is another option.”
“What other option? Because I’m telling you, if there was one, I would have thought of it.” Jodie was getting irritated with her know-it-all brother. She’d spent the last two hours racking her brain for a solution to the problem—at the same time as trying to be as pleasant as possible to her customers. At least the women who’d booked appointments thought the protests were a bit of a laugh. That was a small mercy.
Deke’s face was deadly serious when he faced her and Jodie instantly knew she wasn’t going to like what she heard.
“Mitch is out there and he’s a lawyer.”
Jodie was right. She didn’t like it one bit. “No. No, no, no, no. No.”
“This isn’t about you, Jo. It’s about the women we’re trying to provide a safe home for. You need to set aside your issues and ask Mitch to help.”
“Are you insane? I’m trying to deal less with him, not more.”
“I know, but this thing is bigger than your issues with Mitch. You need to go out there and recruit him to the cause.”
“Why do I have to do it?” And yes, she was whining.
“Because”—her brother’s smile morphed into a wicked grin—“he’ll probably want payment for helping, and I don’t think it will be of the monetary kind. I’m also thinking that he won’t want that payment coming from me.”
“There are days when I just plain hate you.” Jodie glared at him.
“I understand. It’s the burden I bear for being right all the time. The masses just don’t understand a brain like mine. It can make people resentful.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, sis. I won’t judge you because you’re threatened by my brilliance.”
Jodie reached out, grabbed his nipple through his shirt and twisted. Hard. Deke smacked her hand away and placed his hands on his chest, to shield his nipples.
“What are we? Kids again? Knock that crap off, Jodie.” Yeah, they weren’t talking quietly any longer. And now, thanks to Deke squealing like the annoying pig he was, they had an audience. Unfortunately, Jodie was just irritated enough with her brother to be past caring that her client, Margaret Campbell, and her masseuse, Brenda, were staring at the two of them.
“I’m so scared,” she told Deke. “What will you do if I don’t?”
Deke seemed lost for a minute before he looked smug. “I won’t cook for you.”
Well, damn. “Fine. No more childish attacks when you annoy me.”
“You mean when I’m wise and completely right in what I have to say.” He ignored Jodie’s glare. “Now go out there and talk to Mitch.”
Jodie wanted to stamp her feet and wave her arms like a toddler having a tantrum. Sometimes it seriously sucked to be a grown-up.
“You can do it,” Deke mocked as he patted her on the back.
“Excuse me,” Margaret called. The older woman ran the craft shop in town and headed up the local knitting group. Although Jodie was still irritated with Deke, she gave what she hoped was a welcoming smile to her customer.
“I couldn’t help overhearing,” Margaret said. “Mainly because I was listening in. Are you and Mitch having a lovers’ quarrel? I know you don’t have family here, except for him.” She pointed at Deke, who grinned. “If you need a motherly shoulder to cry on, I’d be happy to help out.”
Now Deke wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter. Jodie elbowed him in the side while she kept her professional smile in place.
“Mitch and I aren’t a couple, Margaret. We’re just friends.” She almost choked on the word and had to bite back the sudden urge to confess that even their friendship was happening under duress.
“Oh, but it sounded like you were nervous about talking to him. Like you’d had a falling out.” The mischief in Margaret’s eyes told Jodie that she was enjoying her meddle.
“Mitch is a lawyer.” For once, Deke was trying to be helpful instead of being annoying. “Lawrence is on the side of the protest. We thought of asking Mitch to get rid of the mob.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “If you want rid of the Domino Boys, say no more. Me and the girls will handle it for you.”
“The girls?” Jodie asked, very much against her better judgment.
“The knitting club. Knit or Die.”
Yeah, that’s what Jodie was worried about. “Please, Margaret, don’t trouble yourself. We can handle this situation. You just enjoy your time here at the spa.” Jodie gave Brenda a pointed look, hoping that the woman would take the hint and whisk Margaret off for her massage before she could meddle further.
Brenda missed the look because her attention wasn’t on Jodie. It was on the protests outside. Jodie followed her gaze and saw that Morag McKay had centre stage. She’d gotten hold of Betty’s bullhorn and was demanding that they close the spa for good. Only she didn’t call it a spa.
“When did we become a brothel?” Brenda seemed highly entertained by the new turn of events.
Jodie answered, because Deke seemed to be looking anywhere but at Brenda. “The day I hired you, apparently. Morag thinks the word massage is code for sex.”
“I wish!” Brenda snorted as she cast a sideways glance at Deke.
That look sent Jodie’s antennae tingling. There was definitely something sparking in the air between the two of them, no matter how hard Deke was trying to ignore Brenda.
“I can’t remember the last time I had sex.” Brenda sounded wistful. Her brow scrunched as she worked it out. “Nope, my memory doesn’t go back that far.”
“Me neither, pet.” Margaret gave Brenda’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “It’s been so long I’m not even sure all the parts still work.”
“I did not need to hear that!” Deke covered his ears as he stared at Margaret in pure horror.
“Men,” Margaret said. “So bloody sensitive.”
“I remember sex,” Brenda said on a sigh. “It was good. Better than ice cream.”
“Better than cake,” Margaret agreed.
“Way better than new shoes,” Jodie said and the women looked at her. She shrugged. “I like shoes.”
“I think I’m going to barf,” Deke said.
“Maybe we should rethink this no-men-allowed thing.” Brenda flashed a wicked smile in Deke’s direction. “It would help me meet some nice men. Who knows, maybe one of them would ring my bell for me.”
Deke’s face was pure thunder as he glared at the woman. Brenda seemed gleeful at his reaction.
“I wouldn’t mind giving Josh McInnes a massage,” Brenda carried on, feigning ignorance at the death stares coming from Deke. “In fact, I’d pay that man to let me massage him.”
“That is just wrong,” Deke snapped. “He’s a married father with a pregnant wife.”
“I didn’t say I’d massage him,” Brenda told Deke with fake innocence. “I’d just rub his shoulders a little. And maybe his back. Last time I saw him, his backside looked tense too. He can’t go on tour with a tense backside now, can he?”
“Not funny. Not even a little.”
“I have to say,” Margaret said, “I agree with Brenda. There’s nothing worse than a tense bum.”
The two women giggled together like a pair of teenagers.
“All I can say is that I’m grateful this is a women-only spa. It will spare us the lawsuits over the staff assaulting customers,” Deke said.
“This isn’t a women-only spa,” Brenda took great delight in reminding Deke. “The men can come in for a wax treatment.”
“I don’t think any of those men fancy having Betty peel them like an orange.” Margaret shuddered at the thought. “I’m not sure letting Betty loose with hot wax was a good idea, Jodie. Witches have rituals that involve candles. It’s highly likely that any man she waxes will come out of her treatment room sporting bald patches in the shape of pentagrams.”
“Come on, Margaret.” Brenda linked her arm with her customer and started walking them in the direction of the treatment rooms. “Let’s get you started on your massage, and we can have a good gab while we do it. Maybe you know of some nice single guys in town who wouldn’t mind getting to know a hot masseuse with a little baggage.”
“Oh, pet, we all have baggage.” Margaret patted Brenda’s arm before she looked back at Jodie. “Don’t worry about the protest. I’ll take care of it.”
Jodie and Deke watched the two women disappear down the corridor.
“Why am I not reassured?” Jodie asked.
“We can’t let Brenda go on a manhunt.” Deke completely ignored the more important issue—that the crazy women in town were going to “help” them out. “She’s been through a lot. There are a lot of creeps out there. It’s too dangerous.”
Jodie almost sighed at the sound of so much male delusion. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Margaret will steer her towards some decent guys.”
Deke wasn’t happy with that at all and his bad mood turned on her. “You need to get out there and deal with Mitch. Unless you want to wait and see what the knitting women do. Maybe they’ll knit gags for the men? Or tea cosies big enough to cover their protest signs?”
Jodie stalked to the heavy wooden door. “Tell me again why I thought it was a good idea to go into business with my little brother?”
“Because you’d be lost without me.”
“You are so delusional,” Jodie said before she let the door slam behind her.