Chapter 8 #2
“I’d keep this running, of course, but I could hire a manager to oversee the day-to-day and I could lead special retreats at both locations.
Now that I’ve dialed in my programs and menus, I’ve been considering expansion.
I hope you don’t take offense to my saying so but it’s almost as if you coming to this retreat was prophetic. ”
I smiled. “Yes. I guess it was.”
“What a snake,” Gertie said when I finished telling them about our conversation.
“He definitely didn’t waste any time,” Ida Belle said.
I nodded. “Makes me wonder if he’s just taking advantage of an opportunity presenting itself or looking for the quickest way out of Dodge.”
“Between his wife and his dead business partner, my guess is both,” Gertie said. “I wonder if that’s the kind of deal he made with Eleanor?”
“It must be something along those lines, or he wouldn’t have been interested in the accounts receivable,” Ida Belle said.
“How would something like that work?” I asked. “Because in theory, it doesn’t sound horrible, so why did I feel the need to shower after our conversation?”
“Ha!” Ida Belle said. “Because a place with that kind of deal will never show a profit, that’s why. The scammer knows every trick in the book to take in the money but never show anything left to split with his partner. If you’re not on-site to monitor everything, you’ll never see a dime.”
“So cash off books for rentals, fake invoices for expenses,” I said.
“The masters of the craft even set up other businesses and pay them,” Ida Belle said. “Caterers, cleaning services, plumbers, and other contractors. You can run thousands of dollars every month away from the property and it would all look completely legit.”
I sighed. “Why don’t people work that hard on something legal? It seems like a lot of effort to risk going to jail over.”
“Stupidity and an overwhelming sense of entitlement mostly,” Ida Belle said. “But the pros pick their targets well, so they get away with it a lot.”
Gertie nodded. “Look at Eleanor—an older woman, recently widowed, and whose mother just passed. Someone who isn’t that attractive and then this young, good-looking man comes along, building her up. If you were really a young nun with no street smarts, you’d be easy pickings to a pro.”
I frowned. “Do we really think Zion is a pro? He just seems more opportunistic than deliberate.”
Ida Belle’s phone rang and she checked the display. “Maybe we’ll find out. It’s Mildred.”
“Oh, Ida Belle, I don’t know what to do!” Mildred cried out. “It’s just horrible.”
“Calm down. I’ve got you on speaker. Tell us what happened.”
“That murdering Zion Gates is what happened. I talked to the estate attorney and his agreement with Eleanor gives him the cabins on her death.”
“What?”
“No way!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
We all responded at the same time.
“How could she do that?” Ida Belle asked.
“Because she was the executor and the main heir, and because my father didn’t have any provisions to prevent something like that from happening.
The agreement she had with him was a royalty split on profit for the yoga retreat, which still wasn’t a good contract in my opinion since she owned it all and put up the money for the improvements, but at least it wasn’t straight up immoral. ”
“Will the contract hold up?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, the attorney said the documents she signed appear to be legit.
They were drafted by an attorney in NOLA—probably working for Zion—but the estate attorney is going to contact him and make sure everything was aboveboard.
He killed her. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he had to have caused it somehow.
Got her to sign off on the biggest asset she had and then killed her. ”
“I’m so sorry,” Gertie said. “But don’t you worry. We’re already on the case. If anyone can get the goods on Zion, it’s Fortune.”
“Please, whatever you can do. I still have the house, but the bank accounts for the retreat are low. She spent so much on getting it ready for that nonsense. And I don’t know when I’ll get access to Eleanor’s personal accounts or if there’s even anything left in them.
There aren’t high-paying accounting jobs in Mudbug and with my back problems, I couldn’t handle a commute to New Orleans every day.
But this place wouldn’t sell for all that much and even if I did sell it, I’d be paying more in rent somewhere else. I should have stayed in Colorado.”
“Let’s deal with one thing at a time or you’ll get overwhelmed,” Ida Belle said. “You’ve got the estate attorney checking on things. We’re looking into Zion. Have you told Carter all this?”
“Yes. I called him right after I talked to the attorney.”
“Great,” I said. “I know it’s impossible to do so, but please try not to stress. The last thing we need is for you to work yourself into a heart attack.”
“But I need to do something. What can I do? Give me an assignment. I can’t just sit here, or it will drive me up the wall. And it’s not like I can go out jogging or something to burn off the energy.”
“Look for any correspondence between Eleanor and Zion. If you have access to Eleanor’s email or text messages, go through them and see if you can find anything that might help your attorney build a case for fraud.”
“Carter took her phone, but I can probably get her text messages off her laptop.”
“Good. And go through her paperwork as well. I know most everything is digital these days, but you never know what might be important. Send me anything you question even a tiny bit. Let me be the judge on whether or not it’s important.”
She blew out a breath. “Thank you. I feel better knowing you believe me. Carter is a nice man, but I don’t think he’s jumped to the same conclusion as me.”
“Carter has to have evidence in order to do his job, and his hands are tied in regard to how he can obtain it. Mine aren’t. Start digging and let me know if you come up with anything.”
“Hang in there, Mildred,” Gertie said before I disconnected.
“Well, now we know why Zion would want to kill Eleanor even though the retreat just opened,” Ida Belle said.
“It’s a heck of a motive,” I agreed. “But even if we can prove he gave her the drugs, it’s a hard task to prove the psychological pressure caused her to kill herself.”
“Maybe she didn’t kill herself,” Gertie said.
“Then how did he manage to pull the dead bolt after leaving the cabin?” Ida Belle said.
Gertie frowned. “Yeah, I keep forgetting that part. But if all Carter gets on him is a drug charge, that probably isn’t enough to keep him from getting the cabins. Not if the documents Eleanor signed are legitimate.”
I shook my head. The further into this investigation we got, the muddier it became.
And the higher the difficulty level rose.
We went from trying to find out if Eleanor was being scammed to trying to find out if someone had contributed to her suicide by providing her with drugs.
Now we had to figure out a way to save Mildred’s inheritance from the very person who likely set it all in motion, even if he didn’t actually pull the trigger.
The Barbies were already in the dining area when we arrived, showing off their third wardrobe change of the day.
They went for bolder colors for dinner, all wearing matching sets of yoga pants and tanks, each in their signature color—Pink, Purple, and Blue—but this time, they were more jewel-toned than light and serene.
They still, of course, looked stunning as a group, which I assumed was the point.
I gave them all a big smile when we sat.
“I just love your clothes,” I said. “They’re so bright and cheery and with you all together, it’s like a painting.”
They looked pleased with the compliment.
“We take an afternoon off to shop for these retreats,” Pink said. “It’s part of the decompression before the Zen.”
“Remember that time we went snow skiing?” Blue said. “That one was tough, finding the right colors, especially for outside sports, fancy dinner, and hot tub.”
Purple nodded. “I thought we’d never find snow boots that came in all three colors.”
Gertie frowned. “I don’t see how all that shopping is decompressing. Sounds stressful to me. I’m glad we all have to wear the same thing and what we’ve got on underneath don’t matter.”
“It matters if you’re rolling down a hill and into a lake,” Ida Belle said.
“That was a fluke,” Gertie said. “At least we’re getting real food tonight. I’m going to run out of snacks if he doesn’t cough up something besides those awful smoothies.”
“We had the snapper last time we were here,” Blue said. “It was really good.”
“The service wasn’t,” Pink said drily.
“Sapphire helped Zion get the food out,” Purple explained. “It was a bit like being back in the cafeteria in elementary school. Lots of frowning and shoving of plates.”
“I was a bit surprised she wasn’t lurking for class this afternoon,” Blue said. “I wonder if she’s finally had her fill and taken off?”
“Why would she take off?” Purple asked. “She owns this property. If anything, she should send him sniffing somewhere else.”
I gave her an inquiring look, and she waved a hand at me. “I’m nosy. It’s the real estate thing. I look up properties everywhere we go.”
“She does,” Pink agreed. “And then she buys things. She bought the condo we stayed at in the Virgin Islands, a chalet in Colorado, and that cute studio in New York City, which is where we go for some of our advanced shopping trips.”
“I don’t like a regular trip to Walmart,” Ida Belle said. “I have no idea what ‘advanced’ shopping entails, but I’m not a fan.”
“Sounds like she’s acquiring more real estate than clothes,” Gertie said.
Pink nodded. “There’s that cabana in Cancun. Gorgeous beaches just a block away.”
“And don’t forget that percentage ownership she has of a ranch in Montana,” Blue said. “We’re definitely going back there in the fall. All those lovely mountains.”
Pink giggled. “And lovely cowboys. Although ranches don’t make any money. That one wasn’t based on a great business decision regardless of what she tells you.”
Purple laughed. “Sure it was. The property has increased in value by 40 percent since I invested.”
“Doesn’t matter what it’s worth unless you’re going to sell, remember?” Blue asked, grinning.
“Okay, maybe the cowboys influenced me a little,” Purple agreed. “But it’s so pretty there.”
The door at the back of the room opened and Zion entered, carrying a tray of dinner rolls.
I could see a kitchen in the room beyond and wondered how much of our conversation he’d overheard.
Every time we talked to the Barbies, I got a clearer picture on why he was offering them discounts.
Purple, with all her real estate investments and deep pockets, was like hitting the lottery to someone like Zion.
Unfortunately for him, Purple already had his number and was playing the player, which suited me just fine.
“Ladies,” he said. “I hope you’re all refreshed and relaxed.
I have an excellent meal prepared for you and will begin serving.
The dinner rolls were baked fresh this afternoon, the red snapper comes off a fishing boat at a dock in New Orleans, and the fruit is organic and shipped from a Florida farm. ”
He placed small plates in front of us and three tubs of butter for the rolls, then headed out.
“I wonder if they churned the butter,” Gertie grumbled.
Pink pulled off a corner of one of the rolls and put the tiniest bit of butter on it. “Nope. It’s Kerrygold, but the rolls are home baked.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t look good to serve packaged rolls with all those preservatives,” I said.
“It would if all people are going to eat is a corner,” Gertie said, and helped herself to a whole roll and set about buttering it up. “You girls need to eat more. I could fit all three of you in my habit and people would never know you were there.”
“Fifty bucks says she has a bag of chocolate in her suitcase,” Purple said.
“You’re one to talk, Fritos and bean dip,” Pink said.
We all looked at Blue, who held up her hands. “I’m beef jerky. I do the low carb thing.”
“I like all those,” Gertie said. “If I run out of snacks, I know where to go.”
Zion served the fish, and I had to give him points there.
Even Ida Belle looked mollified after the first bite, and she was very judgmental on fish preparation.
The asparagus was a little too crunchy and could have used a couple minutes more on the grill, but it had a good flavor and paired well with the fish.
When we started on the fish, Sapphire flounced out with a pitcher of water to refill our glasses, her face pinched with tension as she attempted to force a pleasant expression.
She would have looked less threatening if she’d just kept glaring.
When she was done sloshing water, she sat at a two-top with Zion in the corner, both of them eating in complete silence.
Pink glanced at them, then looked at us and raised an eyebrow.
“Trouble in paradise,” she said, her voice low. “I wonder if we should worry about aloe vera in our water.”
“Well, it would fit that whole cleanse narrative they’ve got going,” Gertie said.
I nodded and took another bite of the fish but now that I knew Zion and Sapphire were both out of their cabin, it was the perfect opportunity for me to bounce out and get the bugs in place. I was just about to make my excuse and getaway when there was a knock on the dining room door.
Then Carter’s voice called out. “Is anyone here? It’s Sheriff LeBlanc.”