gleamed malevolently in the glare of the overhead fixtures.
“It looks like a medieval torture chamber,” she said.
Miss Sylvan, the treatment lady in charge of the exercise room, glared.
“Each of the Guppy Toning Machines is designed with one purpose in mind,” she declared. “To make you a new woman.”
Lyra spotted a large gyroscope that was big enough to accommodate a person. She could see how it worked. The user climbed inside, secured her wrists and ankles, and then set the gyroscope into motion. For the first time that day her spirits rose.
“I’ll start with that machine,” she said. “It looks like a carnival ride. I think it would be fun.”
“I’m afraid the Guppy Exercise Gyroscope is out of order,” Miss Sylvan said.
Lyra groaned. “Of course it is. This is my lucky day.”
“We will start with the Guppy Electric Thigh Shaper.”
Chapter 21
At four o’clock, wrapped in a large towel, her hair in a terry cloth turban, Lyra was ushered into the steam chamber by a uniformed attendant.
“You will find it a very relaxing experience,” the woman said. “There’s a pitcher of Madam Guppy’s special iced herbal tea on the table. It will keep you properly hydrated. I will come and fetch you in fifteen minutes.”
Lyra moved into the tiled room. The humid atmosphere hit her with the force of an ocean wave.
She peered through the billowing steam. “Am I the only one in here?”
“Yes,” the attendant said. “There are no other clients scheduled for this time today.”
She closed the door.
Lyra paused to give herself a moment to adjust to the temperature and the thick air and then staggered to the nearest bench and collapsed.
Relief swept over her. For the first time since she had entered the spa, no one was pummeling her muscles, painting her with strange herbal concoctions, or standing over her while she performed dreadful exercises on weird machines that had clearly been designed by a sadist. Her thighs were still quivering from the electric vibrating belts on the thigh-toning machine, and her pectoral muscles would never be the same, thanks to the Guppy Bust Improver.
She needed a drink—a real drink, not the dreadful iced herbal tea in the pitcher on the table. She had been served a glass of the stuff a short time ago when she had been in the so-called refreshment room. She had taken a few sips and then, when the attendant wasn’t looking, she had poured the rest into the nearest potted plant.
What she craved now was something stronger than the tea. An ice-cold cocktail would be perfect. For a few seconds she fantasized about a pink lady, or maybe a sidecar or a martini.
Not much longer. She just had to get through the steam room treatment, and then she would be able to escape the spa.
She settled back and thought about what she had learned. The treatment women had all been eager to chat with a client who found them and their work interesting. Most of the conversations had concerned the methods and techniques they employed. Their job also involved selling Guppy House of Beauty products, so Lyra had received a lot of earnest sales pitches.
Nevertheless, sprinkled into the chatter had been some gossip about other guests. The most fascinating bit of information was that the woman in room two twenty-one was not the first guest who had checked out in the middle of the night in the past year.
She could not wait to inform Simon that her day at the spa had not been a waste of time. She had done some genuine investigative work today. Okay, maybe she didn’t have the icy nerves it took to make a career out of the business, but she would damn well do whatever had to be done to help find Raina.
She lounged against the back of the bench, letting the moist heat do its work. She just hoped she wasn’t going to be sore for a week.
The steam grew heavier, forming a fog-like mist. She could barely see across the room to the opposite wall. The temperature in the chamber was rising rapidly. Her whole body was damp, and a strange kind of lethargy was sinking into her bones. This wasn’t her first experience in a steam room. Something was wrong. It was time to leave, but for some reason she could not muster the energy to get up off the bench and go back into the dressing room.
The humid atmosphere was supposed to relax her, but it was proving to be too much after