Page 87 of The Lady Has a Past

Simon checked his watch. It was mid-afternoon, but there was no one hanging around the service entrance of the spa. He set his briefcase down in front of the door.

“I don’t think anyone is going to interrupt us,” Luther said. “The question is, where is Guppy?”

“She’s nothing if not a good businesswoman,” Simon said. “She probably realized things were going downhill fast and took off for L.A.”

“If that’s true we won’t stand a chance of finding the negatives in the spa. She’ll have them with her.”

“We’ll find her,” Simon said. “But we need to search the spa first.”

The local police had concluded the investigation of the Frampton murder—the special afternoon edition of theLabyrinth Springs Gazettehad gone with a headline that closely echoed the one he had envisioned at breakfast that morning.Fiend Attacks Woman in Local Spa, Buries Her in Wax.

Beneath that article had been another sensational headline:Owner of Local Resort Shot Dead. Police Suspect Drug Dealing.

He gripped the doorknob. A ghostly howl of violence and rage roared across his senses. The back of his right hand burned. His pulse thudded and he started to sweat.

“Shit,” he said.

Luther reached inside his jacket and slipped his gun out of his shoulder holster. “Hot, I take it?”

“Very. Something bad happened in here.”

“The paraffin bath murder?”

“No, this heat is new.”

“I don’t suppose you can tell who went through that door last?”

“No,” Simon said. “Only that whoever did was enraged—ready to murder. Not in full control.”

“Bad combination. Billingsley?”

“Maybe. Or Guppy.”

Simon tightened his hand around the doorknob again and tested it. The door was unlocked. He opened it, picked up his briefcase, and moved into the storage room. Luther followed and closed the door.

They both stood quietly for a time, letting their eyes adjust to the gloom and listening for indications that they were not alone.

“What’s that smell?” Luther asked.

“Violet perfume,” Simon said. “It’s a little on the heavy side.”

“I’ll say. Smells like a funeral parlor.” Luther looked around. “Feels empty in here.”

“I agree.” Simon started forward. “Guppy’s office is close to the front entrance, but as I told you, I didn’t find anything in the safe except money and some financial records relating to the spa business.”

“I like financial records,” Luther said. “They are always useful. We’ll grab those first. After that we’ll search the place and see if you can find any hot spots.”

“Right.”

They walked slowly past several closed treatment rooms. Simonmethodically brushed his fingertips across the doorknobs, each time bracing himself for a jolt.

The paraffin bath room was still hot, but the energy was not as intense as it had been hours earlier.

“That’s where Frampton was murdered,” he explained to Luther.

“The local paper is declaring it the work of a fiend.”

“A fiend, maybe, but not some random killer who happened to target the woman.”

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