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CHAPTER 1
It was Saturday, my day to volunteer at Cornerstone, a safe haven for battered women. Jillian, Ronnie, and I had planned the girls-day-out for Trina weeks before with a late start time to accommodate my hours there. A new spa had opened and Trina’s doctor assured her there’d be no problem with a massage, mani-pedi, a facial, or most any of the services offered other than the sauna or hot tub. Those were off limits as were the mimosas.
We arrived and enjoyed non-alcoholic mimosas of orange juice and seltzer, in the appropriate fluted glasses, of course. The conversation immediately turned to work while we waited. Mostly, we complained and supported each other.
We all worked at Foster’s Insurance. Jillian led one of the project manager units, Ronnie worked in the higher levels as administrative assistant to one of the vice presidents, Trina hid in the bowels of the building keeping all our technology working and safe, and I served half the employees as HR specialist and trauma counselor.
“Ladies, are you ready? We have four massage set ups ready for you.” The young attendant smiled. “Follow me.”
Except for Trina, we all jumped up. Trina, at six months along, took a little longer. Then we were off. Massages were individual. My masseuse, Cassie, had blonde hair, secured back in a clip. She stood shorter than me, but with an athletic build showed off by her tank top.
“Cassie, how did you get into massage?”
“I’m a swimmer and got my degree in college with the intent to pursue a physical therapy certificate. That proved too competitive. PT and massage overlap a lot and the schedule is flexible.”
She started on my neck and back, and I stopped talking. Very relaxed afterward, we all met up again for facials, manicures, and pedicures. Personally, the mask irritated me, but my face did glow. Four hours later, we left the spa, arm in arm, feeling pampered, and trying to decide where to get a bite to eat.
Jillian asked, “Where shall we go? Some place with a good salad, please.”
“I’m starving and eating for two. Some place with solid food and coffee.” Trina rubbed her belly. In true Trina fashion, she wore legging type pants, with a multicolor tunic maternity top. Today’s top sported birds and butterflies.
“I think that means we’re going to Sue’s. There’s a variety to fit everyone there. Me, I want a cup of coffee.”
Ronnie nodded. “Only you know it won’t compare to your favorite Starbucks latte.”
We all laughed as we made our way to our cars. Ronnie came in her own car while Jillian had picked up Trina and then me. We reached Ronnie’s car first and then continued to Jillian’s. Trina reached the row first and started to stumble, then screamed.
Jillian and I rushed to her side, afraid for her. “What’s wrong, Trina?”
She pointed toward another row closer to the stores. “Blood.”
I gasped. Something red stuck out from the row. As I took a step closer, I realized it wasn’t blood, but a red skirt and a shoe-boot. I could hear Trina’s fast breathing.
“Jillian, why don’t you get Trina comfortable in the car and I’ll check it out.”
She nodded and manipulated Trina toward the car and inside. I moved closer, pulled my phone out, and pressed the icon for my favorite police detective, Michael O’Hare. He was also the only police detective in our small town of Beckman Springs. I leaned closer, knelt down, and tried to find a pulse.
“Stacie, what’s up? You back from the spa already?”
“Not quite, Michael. Um, I think you and whoever’s on duty, need to join us in the parking lot here.”
His voice went from casual to terse in a hurry. “Why? What happened?”
“In the parking lot. A woman. Scarf tied around her neck. No pulse at the wrist and I didn’t try for the carotid. No respirations. Her skin is cold, and grayish.”
“On our way. Do not touch anything.”
“Got it. Ronnie left before we found her. Jillian and Trina are in Jillian’s car. I’ll stay here near the body until you or the ambulance arrives. Please tell me Rick isn’t working.”
He disconnected. Rick Murdock nicknamed the three of us the “trouble trio.” And here we were again stumbling on a dead body. I texted Jillian our local cavalry was on its way and suggested Trina call her husband Bill before he heard the location of the call on the police scanner. I also prompted her to alert Ronnie she should eat without us.
Trina’s husband Bill was a police officer in the next town over. If he was working, even though in the next town, it was best for Trina to let him know the situation. Devoted to Trina from day one, once they confirmed the pregnancy, his protective instincts increased and drove Trina crazy.
Glad no one else came in our direction, I took in the victim. I’d recognized the strong scent of patchouli when I’d leaned over to check for vitals. The woman wore colorful clothes like Trina, but different. A red and black paisley blouse topped off the flowing red gauze, gold sequined skirt. It looked as if she wore a solid black underskirt to her knees. The scarf matched the colors of the top with sequins that matched the skirt.
She lay half on her side, facing toward the spa, her right arm under her. The left, the one I had access to, sported a fancy-looking, thin bracelet, and three rings. Oddly, her ring finger was bare. A diamond studded hair clip still held her long black hair up, off her neck. I had no idea if the jewelry was real or fake, though obviously whoever killed her didn’t think them valuable enough to steal. With my need for things to match, I frowned at the silver earrings. Everything else was gold.
Overall, I’d have described her as striking, except she was dead. The breeze continued to blow the scent of patchouli and my hair in my face. I wished I had a hair tie. I heard sirens as they drew closer and I waited for everyone to arrive.
The paramedics arrived first, O’Hare right behind them. A Beckman Springs police department car pulled in, closer to Jillian and Trina. I cringed when I spotted Rick shake his head. His partner was Marina Napoli and she headed in our direction.
The paramedics went directly to the woman. Once they checked her, they shook their heads.
O’Hare grabbed my attention when he bellowed, “Stacie. What did you see or do?”
I took a deep breath knowing Marina needed to take notes. “The four of us – Ronnie, Jillian, Trina, and I – got the works at the new spa.” I pointed to the building. “We finished up and made plans for lunch. Ronnie had parked over there.”
I waved my hand in the general direction. “She left and as we walked over here, Trina stumbled and screamed. All we could see from there was something red, which Trina thought was blood. Trina and Jillian continued to Jillian’s car and got in. I came over here to see what it was.”
“You didn’t know it was a body – a woman?”
“Not initially. I only could see the bottom of her skirt – the red that Trina thought was blood. As I got closer I spotted the shoe-boot, then the skirt, and then the body. I checked for a pulse and respirations. Her skin was cold, her color gray. I called it in.”
“Anything after the call? Anyone else come in this direction?”
“No and no. A few people exited the spa or one of the stores but they weren’t parked over here and no one paid much attention to my standing here.”
Rick joined us.
“Murdock?”
“Stacie’s right. From Jillian’s car the red material could have been anything. The first to see the red, Trina thought it might be blood and screamed. Jillian and Trina have been waiting in the car.”
He grunted. “Trina’s complaining of hunger and wants to know when they can go eat.”
O’Hare’s mouth twitched. “Anything else you can tell us, Stacie?”
“Not really.”
“Where’s lunch in case we have more questions?”
“Sue’s Sandwich Shoppe.”
“Get out of here. It’s going to get crowded fast.”
I speed-walked to Jillian’s car and climbed in as the coroner arrived, along with the media.
“Let’s get out of here while we still can, Jillian.”
With the sirens, people had started to leave the other shops, gawk, and move closer to the action. Now, the media attracted more attention. Jillian didn’t waste any time snaking her way up and down lanes to get out the back way and avoid anyone else.
Trina leaned between the seats. “She died, huh? I had a bad feeling when I saw the red whatever it was. That’s what made me stumble.”
“It was her skirt, Trina. Don’t worry about it. It’s in the hands of the police, now.”
“Still, it’s sad that someone died needlessly. They probably stole all her money.”
I shrugged as I texted Ronnie we were on our way.
She responded, “Got a snack to-go. I’ll catch up on Monday.”
“It’s just the three of us at Sue’s.”
Jillian nodded. “When I told her what was going on, she told me she’d probably get something to go.” Understandable for sure, Jillian headed for Sue’s amidst Trina’s whining.
Excerpt from Riddles, Rogues & Murder. Copyright © 2026. All rights reserved.
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