A Killer Retreat (26 page)

“Over there.” He sounded resigned. As if every word—every action—had been scripted by a force bigger and more powerful than him. I took a deep breath, leaned over, and followed the light, expecting to see Bella's broken body.

I saw rocks.

Nothing but rocks.

I backed away from the edge. Hopeful confusion supplanted my dread. “Kyle, what is it that you want me to see?”

The next seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. Kyle's gloved fingers grabbed my shoulder and I gasped, breathing in the unmistakable smell of wet compost. The smell evoked sudden jolts of memory, like images seen through a child's View Master.

I flashed on Bella's soiled coat; then the pile of compost; then Monica's earring; then Kyle's brown-stained gloves.

Kyle.

Kyle was in the garden the day Monica died—that's where he was when he heard the sirens.

Minutes after the earring was torn from Monica's body.

I looked into his deadened eyes, and I knew. Monica
had
found Kyle that morning, after all.

Kyle was the killer.

I flinched before I could stop myself.

I tried to pull away, but he held me in a vice-like grip.

“What's the matter, Kate?” His voice held no inflection.

“Nothing. Let me go.” I kept my facial expression neutral, but I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice.

Kyle slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. He sighed. “Ah, Kate, we both know I can't do that.” He shook his head. “I so hoped it wouldn't come to this.”

I tried to play dumb. “Come to what?”

He spoke as if he were in a trance. “I fooled myself, you know. When Bruce got arrested today, I thought everything would be OK. I was relieved—giddy even. I truly thought that this nightmare was finally over.

“But then I talked to that stupid hostess. She told me you found an earring in the garden and linked it to Monica. She said you were going to call the police.” He kept talking, as if I weren't even there. “I didn't even realize that awful woman had lost an earring. It must have gotten caught in my clothes during the struggle. Then when I went back to get my stuff from the garden …” His voice trailed off for a moment. He looked back, as if suddenly remembering my presence.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you remembered that I was in the garden shortly after Monica was killed.” His jaw muscles twitched. “Why did you have to go and find that earring? Everything was going to be fine. Now I have to get rid of you, too.”

I had to keep him talking, at least until I could find some way to escape. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I didn't. You came to me. You stopped by Eden right after the hostess left.”

“I was looking for Michael.”

He gripped my arm tighter and shook his head, as if trying to convince himself. “No, it was fate. The universe brought you to me. It was showing me a way out.”

“The universe told you to kill me?” I couldn't keep the incredulousness out of my voice.

“Yes, but I didn't get it, at least not at first. I didn't know what to do, so I followed you back to your cabin, hoping to see a sign.” He lifted his lips in an insane-looking grimace. “And the universe intervened again. You went to the door, but you didn't go inside. You grabbed the dog and kept walking.”

I wanted to back away from him, but I couldn't. There was nothing behind me but air. So I kept listening.

“I was still following you when the dog bolted. That's when it occurred to me. This trail is dangerous. Searching for your lost dog, alone, at night? You could easily fall to your death. An accident would be so much more compelling than another murder.”

My body flashed cold. Bella. What had he done to Bella? “Kyle, please. Tell me. Where is Bella?” My voice cracked. “Did you hurt my dog?”

He stiffened, clearly offended. “What kind of monster do you think I am? I'd never harm an innocent animal!” He nodded away from the water. “Your dog ran back toward the cabins.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “You'd never hurt an animal, but you'd kill two women?”

He leaned forward earnestly. “Please understand, Kate. I don't
want
to kill you. You've left me no choice.”

“What about Monica?”

He shook his head, as if still trying to believe it himself. “I was already upset about that idiot hostess when Monica found me in the garden and accused me of food poisoning.” He shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that Bruce had drugged her? I never cook flesh. I thought she was right. I thought I had accidentally poisoned her.

“I followed her to the spa and tried to reason with her, but she wouldn't listen.” He looked at me beseechingly, as if asking for forgiveness. “You have to understand. She was going to sue me. I would have lost everything.”

I kept my senses on high alert, searching for some way—any way—out of this. All I needed was one instant of distraction.

“Wouldn't your insurance have covered a lawsuit?”

He laughed, but without humor. “I cancelled my liability insurance three weeks ago. I put every penny I had into the restaurant, and then some. I maxed out my credit. My suppliers were about to cut me off, so I had to cut costs somewhere. I only needed a couple of weeks to drum up some cash. I figured I'd be OK in the meantime. A vegan café—how risky could it be?” He smiled sardonically.

“And here I thought
Emmy
had no business sense. Turns out I'm the stupid one.” He shuddered. “That dog of Monica's kept yapping and yapping and yapping. She told me to untie him and leave her alone. That she'd see me in court. When I unhooked the leash, it felt so strong in my hands …” He stared off into the distance. When he looked back, his eyes were wet. “She was evil, Kate. She made me go against everything I believed in, but that wasn't enough for her. She was going to take away my livelihood, too. She deserved to die.”

Bella's deep barking sounded in the distance. Kyle yanked me closer and my foot slipped, sending a cascade of loose dirt over the void. Adrenaline shot though my body, but somehow I kept my voice calm.

“Kyle, I'm not like Monica; I've never intentionally hurt any
one.”

I might have imagined it, but I would have sworn that his energy shifted. I sensed hesitation—indecision. Maybe I still had a chance.

I made eye contact and placed my free hand lightly against his arm. “You don't need to hurt me. You
can't
hurt me. You're not a killer—not really. If you let me go, I'll help you figure a way out of this.”

“Don't you see, Kate? There
is
no way out. Not anymore.”

I heard Michael's shout. “Kate! Where are you?”

“My friends are coming. It's time to end this.”

He leaned over the edge.

“Kyle, please!”

Kyle didn't look at me. He didn't speak. He barely even breathed.
He slowly opened his hand and released my shoulder. His arm
floated down to his side.

That was my chance, and I took it. Like Bella careening away from a lightning bolt, I acted on instinct. I didn't think about Kyle. I didn't think at all. I scrambled away from the edge, screaming at the top of my lungs. “Michael, help! I'm over here!”

I doubt Michael heard me. I barely heard myself. My voice was obliterated by an avalanche of rocks and the gut-piercing echo of Kyle's scream.

I whipped toward the sound, ready to fend off another attack.

The ledge was empty.

At first I stood there, shocked, and stared at the void. My mind refused to accept what had happened.

How could he be gone?

It all happened so fast. In the snap of a finger—a split second in time. One instant Kyle stood there, holding my arm and threatening to push me over the edge.

The next, he was gone.

When the truth hit, it felt like a freight train. I sagged to my knees.
“No, no, no, no, no, no.”

I sobbed the words over and over and over again, but they made
no difference. No amount of denial, no measure of remorse—nothing would make him reappear.

Michael crashed through the trees, propelled by a fierce-looking Bella. He ran to my side, reached down, and pulled me into his arms. Bella crawled on top of us both, whining and licking the side of my face.

Michael's words came out in barely intelligible, panicked fragments. “Oh my God, Kate … thought I lost you. Bella came back … couldn't find you. I heard screaming.”

My unrelated responses were wrapped in choked sobs. “I'm so sorry. I've been a complete jerk. Please don't leave me. I love you!”

“Of course not.” Michael's voice grew firm. “I'm not going anywhere.” He hugged me close and rocked me back and forth. When he pulled back, his face held a mixture of worry, relief, and confusion. “Kate, what happened? Are you hurt? Why did you scream?”

“I'm fine.” I pointed at the edge. “The screaming. It wasn't me.” I looked down at the ground. “It was Kyle.”

Michael's face turned grim. He handed me Bella's leash. “Stay here.”

I didn't argue. I never wanted to go near that ledge again.

Michael crawled to the edge and pointed his flashlight down at the shore below.

I buried my face in Bella's wet fur and waited for him to say the words I never wanted to hear.

“I'm sorry, Kate. He's dead.”

twenty-six

I spent the rest
of the night besieged by a nightmarish army of ambulances, patrol cars, paramedics, and police officers. I wanted to retreat to my cabin. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to wrap my arms around Bella and never let go. But Sergeant Bill had questions, and I supposedly had the answers. So I huddled in Emmy's office, wrapped in a blanket, teeth chattering. I told Sergeant everything I remembered—and plenty I wished I could forget.

Everyone treated me kindly during those two hours of interminable questions. Emmy brought chamomile tea; Jennifer, fresh pastries. Michael whispered sweet words while Rene held my hand. I should have felt happy, or at least lucky. I was alive, Bella was safe, and all of my loved ones surrounded me. But guilt permeated deep into the marrow of my bones. Had I caused Kyle's death? Had my actions somehow compelled him to jump? Our last moments would haunt my nightmares for a very long time.

Dale came to the center to make sure my rights were protected, but he needn't have worried. I was the only person who blamed me for Kyle's death. Sergeant Bill might have been skeptical at first, but the facts supported my statement. He already knew that Monica thought she'd been poisoned by food. Jennifer added that Kyle got surprisingly upset when she told him about Monica's earring. When an officer searched through the restaurant's files and found the cancelled insurance policy, well, no one doubted my story.

Sergeant Bill stopped by two days later to check on me and tell me what his investigation had concluded: that Kyle's death was likely an accident. He even took me back to the cliffs and showed me a recently collapsed area of rock where Kyle had been standing. The only surprising thing, he assured me, was that Kyle and I hadn't
both
fallen to our deaths.

I hoped he was right. I desperately wanted to believe that Kyle hadn't jumped—that his confrontation with me hadn't caused him to take his own life. But in spite of Sergeant Bill's assurances, no one
really
knew what Kyle did in those final moments. Not for sure. I'd have to learn to live with that.

Emmy forgave me for tricking her, but she still fired me. She said that after two deaths on the property in three days, she needed to give everyone a few days off to grieve. She even postponed her wedding a week.

She did, however, invite Michael, Sam, Rene, and me to stay at Elysian Springs until the wedding, as long as we were willing to cook our own food and forgo maid service. Kyle had passed on, of course, so there would be no meals at Eden for the foreseeable future. And the staff was short one additional maid. At Helen's urging, Emmy searched Maidzilla's cabin, where she found the missing cleaning supplies, several bottles of the restaurant's wine, and a surprisingly large stash of stolen herbal tea. Emmy immediately fired Maidzilla, but planned to wait until after the wedding to hire a replacement.

I surprised everyone—myself, included—by saying yes to Emmy's offer. I wasn't ready to go home. I barely had the energy to keep
myself
upright, much less support my students. Before I could pay attention to anyone else, I needed to refill my own well.

Sam and Michael went back to Seattle for the first few days. Sam, to put in some work hours, Michael to give Tiffany a few days off and make sure that Pete's Pets was still standing. When they returned, they brought a fifteen-pound bag of Bella's dog food, all of her medications, and my industrial strength kibble grinder. Bella's crate was securely tied to the top of Michael's Explorer, and a cell phone I actually knew how to use—Old Reliable—was in the glove box. Michael made sure that my old phone was fully charged; he even added a thousand extra minutes. He told me that he never wanted to take chances with Bella's or my safety again.

Sam and Rene moved two cabins down, where they could celebrate their expanding family in their very own, much more private, bedroom. Michael stayed in the cabin with Bella and me, but he gave me plenty of space and didn't press my fragile psyche. We both knew I needed time to heal.

When I called Mandy and told her that I'd be staying on Orcas a few extra days, she responded with two nonnegotiable words.

“I quit.”

I groveled until I got the other teachers to cover my classes and asked the Power Yoga instructor to manage Serenity Yoga until I returned. At the time, she was grateful. The work gave her some much needed income while her back healed. Less than forty-eight hours later, she sounded significantly less enthusiastic. By day five, she asserted that starving would have been preferable.

If her daily, panicked phone calls were any indication, the studio was still in an uproar, but I'd sort everything out when I got home. If I'd learned one thing from my experience with Kyle, it was this: a business—yoga studio, restaurant, or upscale retreat center—was just a place. Friends, loved ones, family. They were important. Not places. Not things.

Now, twelve days after Kyle's death, Sam, Rene, Michael and I shared a table at Emmy's wedding reception. My neck hadn't bothered me for three days in a row. The seemingly interminable rain had abated. The sun beamed through the Retreat House's windows, warming my shoulders and turning the sky above Elysian Springs a brilliant, cerulean blue. Cat Stevens crooned “Morning Has Broken,” promising the hope of a new day. Sam squeezed Rene's fingers with one hand and wiped dribbles of tomato sauce off her chin with the other. She barely noticed. She was too busy guzzling sparkling cider and shoveling down huge forkfuls of pasta.

For the first time since Kyle let go of my arm, I smiled.

I rested my head on Michael's shoulder and watched Emmy and Josh sway softly together in their first dance as husband and wife. Josh
wore an obviously rented tuxedo paired with black Birkenstocks. Yellow daisies adorned Emmy's hair; a simple, white satin dress swished above her knees. The tiny diamond on her finger couldn't compete with the sparkle of her smile. They looked right together; so right that I didn't even feel nauseated when Josh's beard brushed her cheek. I'd never seen a more beautiful couple.

I looked around the room and took stock of my new friends, just like I'd done that first evening at Eden. So much had changed since that night only two weeks ago.

Helen and Toni sat next to each other at the head table, whispering and smiling. The distance between them seemed to have evaporated. I met Helen's gaze and smiled. She nodded, then reached under the table and took Toni's hand. I had a feeling that their relationship wouldn't stay quiet much longer. That was a
good
thing.

Bruce sat nearby, sipping from a water glass and gazing affectionately at his daughter. I assumed he'd return to New York after the wedding, though he'd have to come back to Orcas eventually. He wasn't a suspect in Monica's murder anymore, but he still faced assault charges for drugging her.

At Emmy's request, I officially fired Dale so he could consult with Bruce's legal team. Bruce's Seattle-based attorneys had plenty of experience, but they lacked Dale's particular brand of home-spun charm. Dale didn't want to take on another criminal case at first, but I eventually got him to agree: Bruce had suffered enough. Living with, loving, and losing Monica was ample punishment for three lifetimes. And I knew from experience: no one advocated for his charges—human or animal—quite like Dale.

Dale assured me that although Bruce might face some jail time, he would probably get off with a fine and probation, given the circumstances. The coroner's tox screen proved that Bruce had been telling the truth: he'd given Monica too little digoxin to cause her any long-term harm.

Cat Stevens gave way to “The Macarena,” and guests flooded the makeshift dance floor, laughing and dancing in line. Dale sat on the sidelines, drinking champagne and tapping his toe to the music. Bandit lay on leash next to him, wiggling and obviously itching to cause trouble. Every time he stood to bark, Dale gave him a stern look and he dropped back to the ground. If anyone could train that little monster, it was Dale.

When Dale agreed to help Bruce, he demanded Bandit and a “big-assed donation” to Dale's Goat Rescue as payment. Dale claimed that he'd always wanted a Jack Russell terrier, but I suspected Bandit was simply another one of his rescues. Whatever the reason, I was glad. No one should have to live where they aren't wanted. As for my legal bills, Dale decided that I owed him free yoga for life. I sincerely hoped that he'd move back to Seattle some day and collect.

Jennifer walked up to the table, interrupting my visual eavesdropping.

“Are you guys having a good time?”

“Absolutely,” Rene replied between mouthfuls. “I hope you don't like living here.”

Jennifer looked confused.“Why not?”

Rene grinned. “Because I'm taking you back to Seattle. You'll be my personal chef.” She pointed to her almost-empty plate. “The risotto was yummy. The spring rolls were even better. But I
cannot live
without this tomato gnocchi.” She gazed longingly at the food table. “Is it true that everything's vegan?”

“Yes. Emmy insisted. It's her tribute to Kyle.”

“Well,” Rene said, “it's good anyway. I might have to go back for seconds.”

“That would be thirds, Rene,” I said dryly.

“Whatever.” She waved her hand. “I'm eating for two, you know.”

“You really
did
do a fantastic job making all of this food,” I said to Jennifer. “You have a gift.”

“Thanks.” She leaned down and whispered. “You can't tell anyone, because Emmy and I are still working out the details. But she's going to open the restaurant again in a couple of weeks. She's making me head chef.”

“That's wonderful!” I paused, confused. “But I thought Kyle owned Eden. What happens now that he's, you know, gone.”

“Ownership reverts back to Emmy and Josh.” Jennifer stood taller. She looked almost confident. “Now that I'm going to be part of the business, Emmy's been teaching me all about it. She's a heck of a lot smarter than people think. When she and Josh sold the restaurant to Kyle, she made sure that if anything happened to him, they would get it back.”

I paused. “I've been afraid to ask Emmy this. Do you think the resort will survive?”

Jennifer nibbled at her lower lip. “You know, I do.” She looked off to the side, as if trying to remember the details. “The original investors insisted that Emmy buy something called a ‘key person' insurance policy. It covered Josh, Kyle, and Emmy. Since the police ruled Kyle's death an accident, it looks like it will pay out.”

“Will it be enough?” I asked.

“Enough for now. They'll be able to fix the plumbing, at least. They won't be able to renovate any of the other buildings for awhile, but that's OK. I kind of like our funky cabins.”

I smiled. “Me too.”

Jennifer walked away, looking nothing like the grumpy yogini who had skulked in and out of my yoga classes. Her energy seemed lighter, as if her heart were more open. Her feet skipped lightly along the ground. She seemed … happy.

Emmy and Josh pressed a long-bladed knife through another of Jennifer's creations: a three-tiered coconut whipped cream cake covered in dusty pink rose petals.

Michael took my hand. “They look pretty good up there, don't they?”

I smiled. “Perfect.”

He hesitated, seeming uncharacteristically timid. “Kate, I've been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Well …” He cleared his throat, then quickly looked down at the ground.

He only paused for a few seconds. Not nearly enough time to process the thousands of thoughts, images, and emotions that coursed through me. I knew what Michael was about to ask; I'd known it for two weeks. I sat next to him, feeling like I might be sick.

Was marrying Michael the right choice?

How could anyone know what was “right” for the rest of her life, really?

I wanted a crystal ball. I wanted to look into the future and know, with absolute certainty, how my life would unfold. This grasping,
this burning fear of uncertainty, tortured me.

Then I remembered the teachings.

According to yoga, each of us has infinite choices, countless possible pathways in life. The exact road we wander is largely irrelevant. How we relate to those choices; how we travel those pathways—that's what matters.

Sam and Rene held hands and giggled about babies. Emmy smeared petal-infused frosting across Josh's face. The four of them looked blissfully happy.

I, on the other hand, had been suffering for days. Suffering—like all forms of emotional decay—flourished only in darkness. In ignorance, ego, aversion, and fear.

It was time to find the light.

I still had major control issues, that much was certain. But if Bella could be trained to get over her fears, so could I. We'd call it the Kate Desensitization Project. Michael and I would start out slow and grow together. I'd give him some closet space, maybe his very own drawer. Given enough time, I might even get used to his toothpaste-encrusted toothbrush. We'd take a few more family vacations and figure out how to cohabit in peace. We wouldn't actually have to combine households until after the wedding.

The nausea in my belly morphed into bubbles of hope. This could work! People had long engagements all the time. Michael and I could wait years before we tied the knot. Plenty of time for me to overcome my neuroses. Plenty of time, for that matter, for Michael to develop better housekeeping skills.

I finally had my answer, and with surprising certainty. I wanted a future with Michael. I wanted to marry him. I squeezed his hand and smiled. Butterflies banged at the edges of my stomach.

Michael cleared his throat.

“Kate?” He paused again.

Yes?

“I think we should move in together.”