Finding Zen and Death Read online

  Finding Zen and Death

  Fleming Investigations Cozy Mysteries #3

  Kobo Edition

  Patti Larsen

  Copyright 2020 Patti Larsen

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  Kobo Edition, License Notes

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  Chapter One

  I really needed to scratch my nose. The itch had been building the last thirty seconds or so, the latest in a long line of distracting irritations my body and mind offered up to counter the (meant to be) soothing voice leading me in meditation.

  Me. Meditating. Yeah, that was going well.

  The persistent call of odd tweaks and pains and little annoyances had begun the moment I’d sunk to the floor and crossed my legs in a fair approximation of the instructor’s perfect posture, my flexibility not in question, thank you, though my ability to remain immobile without fidgeting or overthinking, adjusting my clothing while sighing deeply as my mind tried to wander? All proving to me once and for all I had serious issues with finding anything resembling calm, collected inner peace.

  Turned out that me and my higher self had a bit of a problem with who controlled what. Okay, me. I had a problem. My higher self on the other hand? No idea where she was at the moment. Probably off somewhere having a great time or drinking coffee (because coffee) and laughing over the fact I was never going to find her anyway so why freaking bother?

  Only I would find meditation that depressing.

  Oh, and it wasn’t just my inner being’s suffering I contemplated and lingered over and picked at like an old bandage that really needed to come off. Nope, lots of mind wanderings took over Feeville as the chimes in the background, ringing over the music the instructor played, picking on a nerve I didn’t know was pickable.

  Why did I wear these particular yoga pants today? I’d forgotten they tended to sit too high on my waist and I needed to roll down the band to make them comfortable but when I did that and sat down, they dug into my skin and created a marshmallow spare tire I obsessed over despite knowing I wasn’t fat, thanks, it was the pants.

  And seriously, though, who said sitting crossed-legged on a bolster was a comfortable way to spend an hour? My butt was fast asleep, my hips aching from the unfamiliar posture and if the stupid music playing with the damned bells that rang at odd intervals and made me anxious didn’t stop soon, I was going to choke someone.

  Did I mention the chiming little bells? How perkily evil they were?

  I really, really needed to scratch my freaking nose already.

  “Inhale as you sink further and further into a state of calm, peace and rest.” While she really was a lovely woman, from the brief encounter I’d had with her so far? If our instructor for the weekend didn’t stop telling me what to do, I was going to lose it on her, on everyone in the room, and then maybe in a fit of insanity run out into the snow and hike for home. Star Brenner’s uber fit body and sunny attitude weren’t helping either, nor was how amazing she looked in her fitted yoga attire with her long, blonde hair wound in intricate twists around her head, a large phoenix tattoo climbing from her wrist to her shoulder looking less aggressive and more just wicked cool. “Hold at full breath. And exhale into a deeper state of self.”

  You know what? I spent 24/7 with me, myself and I since the day I was born and I was more than familiar with the state of affairs in my own particular little Universe, so I didn’t need some spirituality guru blah blah blah shoving breathe and relax and find yourself down my throat. Seriously.

  Okay, I either really needed this weekend because I’d somehow fallen off a cliff into the deep end of cynicism with no hope in sight or…

  Fee, come on. Cynicism for the win. And yet, if I went any deeper into myself, I was going to implode.

  I should have known better, really, sighing as softly as I could while giving in to the impulse to tackle that darned itch, the chime of the idiotic bells from the sound system making me jumpy. Scratching one spot triggered more, like the one at the base of my ponytail. I tackled it while adjusting the hem of my t-shirt again to try to hide my rolly-polly mistake. Just before shifting my hips from side to side to wake up my rear end. All while doing my best to get through this and move on already.

  Apparently, self-reflection and meditation just weren’t for me. Sure, the whole women’s retreat sounded great in theory, things like this always did. I’d bought into my best friend’s enthusiastic suggestion we go together, Daisy Bruce’s excitement often contagious despite the fact I had a bad feeling about the whole affair. When Mom signed up too, Vivian French deciding to join us at the last minute, I figured maybe this might end up being a great way to connect and enjoy the awesome women in my life.

  Thing is, I knew it was four days. Knew the recently opened LifeBalance Center an hour’s drive past White Mountain Lodge, further up the mountain than I’d ever been, was in the middle of nowhere. Understood there would be no cell phones allowed, no internet, no TV or outside intrusion. Willingly accepted I’d be immersed in the kinds of activities I’d generally avoided out of lack of interest. And I still agreed to it, sucker than I was. All because my lovely and glowing Daisy asked me to.

  Despite my first attempt to relieve the pressure on my tailbone I’d apparently made things worse. Shifting positions again, though a small movement in normal space and time, felt like I was a stampeding elephant charging through a quiet village. Everyone else appeared to be in their Zen place, eyes closed (yes, I peeked, not like I was really meditating anyway so I might as well entertain myself somehow), backs straight, looking like happy little statues in trendy yoga wear.

  Sigh. We’d only arrived two hours ago. It was Thursday. I wasn’t going to survive until Sunday.

  There was something wrong with me, wasn’t there? Yes, Fee. Yes, there was.

  I forced myself to breathe when Star told me to, though my mind wandered immediately to Crew. He was home finally, only found out a few days before the stupid retreat he was going to be in Reading the entire four days. That was rare at the moment, his cases taking him outside town more often than not, gone overnight at least three times a week. I almost canceled, was this close.

  Until Crew put a stop to it over dinner the night before.

  “This will be good for you,” he said, sipping his beer, Petunia in his lap adoring him. She missed him as much as I did, couldn’t wait to climb up and grin her pug happiness at him. I have no idea what it was about him, but she would stare at him with utter focus whenever he was in the room, the kind of canine adoration that made me utterly jealous and completely happy at the same time. “I know I’ve been working a lot, but we’re just getting off the ground.” He didn’t let me argue, those amazing blue eyes of his locked on me, that gorgeous face smiling the smile that always made me give in. “Besides, I have paperwork and the house build to oversee.” Our dear friend, Jared Wilkins, had finally broken ground on our new home. I loved seeing it take shape, though an unseasonable amount of snow in late October and continuing the last two weeks had made his job more difficult, slowing the project down. “And I’ll be busy with this girl.” He kissed Petunia on the top of her head, right above her wrinkles. She meow-yawned her delight and leaned into him. “Daisy’s excited about it, Fee. You can’t let her down.”

  That was the final nail in my coffin of guilt and regret.


  Which was how I ended up kissing my sweet and handsome husband goodbye this morning before driving up the mountain with Mom and Daisy.

  “You’re doing beautifully,” Star said in her melodic voice. “Inhale and hold for four. And exhale.”

  I just couldn’t make my mind shut down and finally stopped trying, letting it drift back to our arrival after our snow-filled journey led us to a large parking lot, recently cleared, the crunch of what remained underfoot, the air warm despite the towering drifts everywhere. Weather in the mountains was always unpredictable, but this much snow so early had the old-timers in Reading talking about when they were kids and walking both ways to school uphill in snowbanks so high they could touch the powerlines. I worried more about the warmer air and the possibilities of avalanches, but then again, I was a worrier, so no surprises, right?

  It hadn’t taken long to get settled into the lovely accommodations, to join the meet and greet where the other women gathered, bringing the total of attendees to twelve. With the six staff, we were a nice round eighteen women of varying ages, most of whom I’d known the majority of my life and wasn’t sure spending four days alone in close quarters would go well despite the intended vibe.

  Cynic, remember?

  I was surprised to find our mayor, Olivia Walker, had joined the group, though not so much her avoidance tactics when it came to me. She’d been staying out of my way since she’d done the stupidest thing anyone could ever do (in my opinion and I’m sure you agree completely) by hiring my useless and dangerously incompetent cousin, Robert Carlisle, as sheriff of Reading.

  That made me wriggle on my bolster and grind my teeth. So much for relaxation and inner reflection. What had she been thinking? I wished I knew. Every time I tried to corner her and ask her, she either evaded my questions or ran like a rabbit. No. Thinking about Olivia wasn’t helping me find my happy place, but I figured no one could see what was going on in my mind and I’d pretty much already given up on this craziness already so I might as well focus on something that could keep my overactive mind occupied so I didn’t scream at someone, anyone, to turn the damned bells off already.

  Inhale. Exhale. Olivia. Right.

  Well. She was trapped with me for the next four days, wasn’t she? And this place wasn’t big enough for her to hide from me. I’d be getting my answers, believe it. Funny how that made me feel suddenly so much better and optimistic about the whole ridiculous weekend.

  Guess that said a lot about me, right? No illusions here, trust me.

  “And now, inhale to the count of four and when you are done, open your eyes and return to the room.”

  I did my best to follow her final instruction and smiled back at Star when she beamed at me.

  “Excellent,” she said, the murmur of voices breaking the quiet while the song ended (finally, argh, the bells were making me mental). “We’ll take a short break and reconvene here in a half an hour for sound healing.”

  Why was I the only one who didn’t seem excited by that?

  ***

  Chapter Two

  My decision to opt out of the next session was going to amount to a trend, I had zero doubt. In fact, I now planned to spend the remainder of the four days either in group activities with my loved ones (the cooking class sounded fun) or hanging out in the Nordic spa area, soaking in heat from the sauna alternating with cold dips and long, bathwater pool dunks repeated until I was a wrinkly prune.

  See, I could relax. Just not when someone was telling me to.

  I checked out the snack table set up in the main foyer, just outside the dining room, and grimaced to myself, knowing my displeasure at the selection had to be showing on my face. Not that the gluten-free, lactose-free, vegan muffins didn’t look delicious (and likely tasted like cardboard) but the glaring absence of coffee hadn’t been in the playbook, right?

  I paused next to the tea selection and felt a flutter of panicked unhappiness turn to bitter regret. Four whole days and no java? All the bodies I’d found over the years, all the murderers I’d helped capture, all the bad guys and gals I’d put away? I’d be joining them shortly if I had to give up coffee for four freaking days.

  Argh.

  Oh, and while not a total carnivore, the menu posted for lunch and dinner? All vegan, all the time. Dear god, save me from this hell.

  In case you missed it, I was already cranky and well on my way to sullen moping when my bestie, the very source of my present lack of enthusiasm, slipped up next to me and slid her arm into the crook of mine, hugging me close with that gorgeously beaming smile of hers that made it impossible to stay angry with her.

  Okay. I tried, though. Really, really hard.

  “Isn’t this the best?” Daisy didn’t seem to notice my simmering dissatisfaction, sighing one of those deep and happy sighs of hers, gray eyes sparkling, long hair in ringlets caught in a loose ponytail that made her look like she’d just left the farm, all flawless skinned and milkmaidesque. She just had to be as gorgeous on the inside as she was on the outside. No one had the right to be that perfect.

  Yes, I know. Daisy had her own issues, and I was being unreasonable and just needed to take a deep breath already before I pulled her down to my level. I forced a smile, jaw tight but doing my best while the sunny and sweet woman I adored sealed my fate and any idea I might have of escaping, running away and never, ever coming back.

  “I love you so much, Fee,” she said then, those huge eyes moist, full lower lip trembling, a hug pending that crushed me against her the instant she wrapped her arms around me. Daisy was way stronger than she looked, and her hugs were the most enthusiastic of anyone I’d ever known. She threw her heart and soul into making you feel like you were the most important person in her world when she embraced you and no one—not even snarky, cynical and coffee-deprived me—could withstand the force of nature that was a Daisy Bruce love hug.

  “I love you too, Day.” I squeezed her back, feeling like a total jerk. I could do a few days without just to spend time with my bestie, right? She was worth it. When she let me go, her smile was infectious enough the one I wore wasn’t quite so rigid and faked.

  I would not ruin this for my friend. I would not.

  Not.

  Grunt.

  Daisy helped herself to tea while I sighed over the selection and decided on a simple English breakfast, hoping the caffeine count would compare to my regular daily overdose. How many cups would I have to drink? Not a clue, and no internet to find out, either. Grumble.

  Distraction from my returning spiral into unhappiness—fed by tasting a small corner of a muffin and confirming the texture resembled sawdust while the chemical flavor of the sweetener made me gag—appeared at the table next to me, though I wasn’t so sure Madeline Narrow was all that happy to see me. I waved and smiled a little and she returned the gesture, though she did appear as though she was going to bolt. I didn’t make an effort to stop her, my former client in possession of the proof of her husband’s infidelity clearly making this connection a complicated one. But I’d known her since high school and hoped revealing the truth she paid me to dig out of Colin Narrow’s dumpster behind his insurance agency office wasn’t going to come between us.

  If you don’t want to know the truth about someone? Don’t hire a private investigator to dig it up for you. It’s not going to end well.

  While Madeline didn’t show a great deal of enthusiasm in seeing me, the woman who joined her beamed at me and stuck out her hand, the family resemblance clear, though Maddy’s long, dark hair and deep brown eyes were a contrast to her younger sister’s wheat-blonde bob and hazel gaze.

  “I don’t know if you remember me,” she said. “I’m Ashley Denvers, Maddy’s sister? We were a few years apart in high school.”

  “I do remember,” I said, shaking her hand. “I haven’t seen you around Reading since I got home. Are you living out of state?”

  “Just moved back a month ago,” Ashley said, shrugging h
er narrow shoulders, ignoring her sister’s discomfort. “When Maddy told me about Colin and her suspicions, I wanted to be here for her.” She seemed rather perversely pleased by the fact. “Thank you so much for uncovering his lies, Fee. I knew he was a jerk right from the get-go. Never trusted him, not for a second.”

  Madeline flinched slightly, face pale, head down, hands tight on her mug, though she didn’t argue with her sister. Clearly, Ashley’s opinions weren’t something she kept to herself. If I was Maddy, I’d be rather irritated if I had to hear over and over again what a huge mistake I’d made marrying my husband. Infidelity or not, she loved him once, and being publicly humiliated about who she’d fallen in love with—not always by choice—had to hurt.

  “Did you ever find out who he was cheating with?” Ashley’s interest was making me uncomfortable now, so I hated to prolong this further.

  “Uncovering her identity wasn’t part of the job,” I said, knowing I was short with her, but feeling intensely for my former classmate and client and fellow human being with a broken heart.

  Ashley didn’t seem to care or notice. “Oh well, I’m just happy Maddy’s free of that spineless weasel.” She turned to her sister and smiled up at her, the four or so inches in the difference making Madeline appear more awkward and less put together in her plain black tights and white t-shirt while her smaller sister had an elf-like appearance in her pink yoga pants and tight tank. “Right, Maddy?”

  Madeline made a soft choking sound before nodding. I made a point of stepping past Ashley and hugging the taller sister.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  To my surprise, Madeline hugged me back with a rather fierce embrace. “Thanks, Fee.” She was actually shaking and when I let her go, her face had flushed from the deathly paleness she’d borne earlier. Tears trickled down her cheeks, Ashley sighing heavily.