going to tell me it wasn’t an accident that I got locked in the steam chamber, aren’t you?” she said.
“Did you really believe it was an accident?”
“Let’s just say I was trying to remain optimistic.”
“That attitude is not particularly helpful in our business.”
Chapter 22
Believe me, I am as distressed about this unfortunate incident as you are, Mr. Cage,” Ridley Billingsley said.
Simon fought back the rage that threatened to override common sense.
“That’s not even remotely possible,” he said. “My wife could have died in that damn steam room.”
They were gathered in the office of the owner of the resort. Billingsley was East Coast, from his patrician airs and his elite private school accent to his bespoke suit and striped tie. There was no doubt he was genuinely alarmed by the incident in the steam room, but Simon was sure that Ridley’s real source of distress was the possibility of bad press for his hotel.
Simon could have told him that the last thing he and Lyra planned to do was go to the local paper—the unfortunate accident story worked well for them—but he wanted Billingsley to sweat. The owner of the resort made a good target, and right now Simon needed a target for his fury.
At the moment he was playing the outraged husband, which, he reflected, was not a hard role to get into. Not at all. He was seething. Whoever had tried to murder Lyra was most likely connected to the spa, but Billingsley was ultimately the man in charge of the resort, including Guppy’s operation. Simon knew it would look odd if he didn’t start at the top. He would deal with Guppy later.
For her part, Lyra was playing the badly shaken lady who was on the verge of collapsing. She sat in a chair, looking stricken, and sipped a glass of water.
“It was an accident, I assure you.” Billingsley gave Lyra a beseeching look. “On behalf of Madam Guppy and the entire staff of Guppy’s House of Beauty, I offer you our most sincere apologies, Mrs. Cage.”
Lyra dabbed at her eyes with a hankie. “I just don’t understand how it could have happened. Where was everyone?”
“The spa was forced to close unexpectedly early due to electrical issues,” Billingsley explained. “In the confusion the attendant in charge of the steam chamber forgot there was one client in that room. Maintenance is working in the spa now, trying to locate and repair the faulty wiring, but I’m told that the problem is most likely what caused the chamber to overheat.”
“I see,” Lyra said. She put down the glass and appeared to collect her shattered nerves. “I had planned to book another Day of Beauty, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“I understand,” Billingsley said. “You will, of course, receive a refund on the appointments you booked today.”
“I should think so.” Lyra rose to her feet. “Let’s go, Simon. I need a drink.”
Simon hesitated. He wasn’t through with Billingsley, but Lyra’s instincts were right. He got to his feet.
“Yes, dear,” he said.
Chapter 23
I really do need a drink,” Lyra said. “A real drink. In the steam chamber I fantasized about an ice-cold martini or a sidecar. For some reason a pink lady didn’t sound like the right cocktail for the moment. There was some herbal tea provided, but the stuff was dreadful. I didn’t bother with it because I’d tasted it earlier and had to pour most of it into a plant.”
Simon stopped pacing the suite and turned to face her. “How about another glass of water?”
Lyra made a face. “I’ve had so much water in the past hour I’m in danger of floating out the door and down the hall. I’m fine, Simon. Really. Why don’t you fix both of us a cocktail? And then I’ll tell you what I found out today while I was being mangled and maimed and nearly murdered at Guppy’s House of Beauty.”
He eyed her. “Are you telling me you found out something in addition to the fact that someone tried to kill you?”
“Yes. And don’t look at me like that. I’m not keeping anything from you. We haven’t had a chance to talk until now. I’m finally feeling somewhat normal.”
She did appear fully recovered, he decided. She was dressed in a floral-patterned dressing gown and curled up in a large reading chair, one leg tucked under the other. Her still-damp hair was parted in the center. She had left it loose around her shoulders to dry.
She had not bothered to apply any fresh makeup after they