Page 6 of Little Shattered Dreams

The guest accommodations at the retreat were spread out over several acres of rich, tree-lined property. Each bungalow in the guest quarters was a duplex, with one guest staying on the left and one on the right. When I made the bookings, I put my mother in a duplex next to my sister. Hunter was next to Simone. I planned to be next to my Aunt Laura, but when I tried to book it, I was told there were only two shared duplexes left, and I’d just given those to friends and family.

At present, I was standing in Quinn’s kitchen, under the surveillance of Clara and a male employee she’d summoned. She’d also called Grace to enlighten her on the night’s events. It turned out Grace lived an hour away in Solvang. It would be some time before she arrived back at the resort.

As I braced myself for what was about to come next, I heard a familiar voice on the opposite side of Quinn’s door. Chief Foley stepped inside along with Officers Higgins and Decker.

As soon as he saw me, he shook his head, threw his hands in the air, and said, “Of course, you’re here. Why wouldn't you be?”

Foley breezed past me and hunched down, inspecting Quinn and the surrounding area. He turned toward me and said, “Nice, ehh, nightgown.”

Tonight, I was dressed in a floor-length, 1930s-style negligee with short flutter sleeves and a matching robe. Because Clara was so nervous about my presence in Quinn’s room, I’d decided not to return to my room to change.

“Hello to you too Chief Foley,” I said.

Calling himchiefinstead ofdetectivewas something I was still getting used to given Foley had been a detective for the San Luis Obispo Police Department for the past two years. Six months ago, when former police chief Ivan Blackwell was arrested for murder, Foley was named the new chief. Blackwell died in prison a few months later, and I was glad he was dead. The man was one of the worst people I’d ever known.

Foley’s eyes darted around the room before coming to rest on Clara and Tyler. As soon as he made eye contact, Clara stepped in front of him and stuck out a hand.

Foley crossed his arms. “What can I do for you, Miss …?”

“My name is Clara.”

“Last name?”

“Foster.”

“All right, Clara Foster. What can I do for you?”

“I was here tonight, right before Quinn died.”

“And?”

“I brought her the tea she’d requested. We talked for a minute, and then I left, but I wasn’t gone long.”

“Why did you come back so soon?”

I leaned in, anxious for answers myself.

“Quinn was having a difficult night,” Clara said. “She asked if she could use the hot tub, but it’s closed for the night. She seemed distressed, so I suggested she meet with Karl.”

“Who’s Karl?”

“He’s in charge of our mind, body, and spirit sessions. Yoga, meditation, spiritual guidance … that type of thing. I thought it might help Quinn sleep if she talked to him. Point is, when I returned to tell Quinn he was ready to speak with her, she was dead.” Clara turned, aiming a finger in my direction. “Andshewas here.”

“Georgiana was here when you arrived?”

Clara nodded. “Yep.”

“I see. And why areyoustill here?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on her. She tried to tell me she had nothing to do with Quinn’s death, but how could she not? We’re a gated community with security out front. I already spoke with the guard. Aside from the police, no one has entered, and no one has left during the last hour.”

Foley smirked, glancing at me like he found this half-pint’s guard-dog efforts amusing.

He may have.

I did not.

“How do youknowno one else entered the room? Were you standing outside the deceased’s door the entire time between visits?”

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