Page 17 of Little Shattered Dreams

“I’m guessing so. She told me right after she told your sister.”

“With her here, I’m not sure Foley will be able to contain it.”

“Well, we’ll see. She did say not to bother you about it and not to breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

I supposed it was something.

Mom wasn’t good at keeping secrets, unless they were her own, and then she became a sealed vault.

“The woman who died last night, her name was Quinn,” I said. “I just learned she was Faith’s mother.”

Aunt Laura pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh goodness. Poor thing. No wonder she’s not saying much. How areyoudoing? Your mother said you were the first person to discover what happened to Quinn last night.”

I nodded. “It’s the last thing I expected to have happen this week. We’re all supposed to be relaxing.”

“You? Relaxing? You’ve been in a dour mood since we got here. Not that I blame you.”

“They ask too many personal questions,” I said. “Everywhere I turn I’m being prompted to express my feelings.”

“Oh, I know. They’re nosey too. Abby, one of the women in guest services, ratted me out yesterday.”

“What do you mean?”

“She found the weed I’d stashed in my drawer. My rum, too. Next thing I know, there’s a knock at the door. It was the other guest-services gal, an uptight little thing named Clara.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’ve met. What did she say?”

“She told me I either needed to hand over the weed or flush it. Talked to me like I was a child. Can you believe it? We’re in California, for heaven’s sake. It’s legal.”

“Why did they want you to get rid of it?”

“Clara said part of the agreement we signed when we arrived was some nonsense about no drugs, whether legal or not,” Aunt Laura explained. “According to her, my mind needs to be free and clear of toxins so I can get in touch with my inner self. I told her I was well acquainted with my inner self, and if they so much as placed a finger on my weedormy rum, they’d regret it.”

“I’d expect no less from you.”

She elbowed me and said, “Besides, I passed by Karl’s place last night, and there’s no doubt in my mind he was lighting up. I could smell it in the air. If our spiritual guide or whatever he’s calling himself can fire one up, so can I. Anyway, enough about me. How are you holding up, kiddo?”

“I’m too tired to even consider how I’m doing right now, and too focused on what happened to Quinn.”

“Any theories?”

I shook my head. “I spent several hours discussing it with Foley and Silas last night. If her murder was premeditated, and I’m inclined to believe it was, her killer knew she’d be attending the retreat this weekandwhat room she was in. I’m just not sure about the motive. Not yet.”

“Not yet,huh?Does that mean you plan on investigating her death, or are you going to leave that to the police this time?”

I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself, prompting Aunt Laura to join in and say, “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

CHAPTER9

Faith’s doctor was just as concerned as we were when he saw her, but he was pleased to find the bleeding had stopped. Still, he decided it best to drive her to the clinic so he could do a more thorough workup. With Faith in excellent hands, I showered and readied myself for the day.

I hadn’t made it out the door when I received a request. Grace, the retreat’s founder, called and asked to meet with me. When I arrived at her office, Clara was exiting it. She looked distraught, and it was obvious she’d been crying. She refused to look at me as she passed, making me wonder if she still believed I had something to do with Quinn’s death.

Grace stood when she saw me, smiling as she waved me inside. She looked to be in her late fifties and had long, straight, silver hair. Every time I saw her, she was dressed in a flowy pantsuit. Today it was pale blue.

“Good morning, Georgiana,” she said. “How are you feeling today?”

Her voice was serene and melodic.

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