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  PAMPERED TO

  DEATH

  A Maternal Instincts Mystery

  PAMPERED TO DEATH

  by

  Diana Orgain

  Copyright 2017© by Diana Orgain

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Contents

  Other Titles by Diana Orgain

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Ninetten

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

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  About the Author

  Chapter One

  XXX

  NOTE ****

  This is an uncorrected proof – if you are reading this –this is an error – please contact Diana at www.dianaorgain.com

  XXX

  How my best girlfriend, Paula, convinced me to take a yoga class was beyond me. When she’d told me about this spa, Pampered to Death, I’d envisioned something quite different.

  A massage, of course...a glass of champagne... a girlfriend’s brunch. And at the top of the list RELAXATION.

  Instead, I now found myself attempting to perform a yoga pose I couldn’t have done even pre-baby, while a stick-thin woman with the height of an Amazonian, stood at the head of the class telling us to take the stretch just a bit deeper.

  Was this supposed to feel like torture?

  “Feel the burn,” the woman shouted excitedly.

  Oh, I guess so.

  “Breathe into the pose and feel yourself getting stronger,” she said. “Go deep within.”

  If went any deeper, I wouldn’t be able to recover.

  How embarrassing if I were suddenly to cramp up and crumple to the floor. I imagined an ambulance pulling up to the spa and carting me off because I pulled a hamstring.

  No. I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  I stayed in my comfortable lazy stretch to avoid injury and humiliation. I glanced over at Paula, who was right beside me, looking like she was some sort of Olympian.

  Not going to lie. I thought I might actually strangle her by the end of the day if I didn’t get some real down time.

  Paula turned in my direction, and seemed completely at ease in the bizarre one-legged king pigeon pose.

  “Isn’t this great?” Paula asked, a huge smile on her face.

  “Press your tailbone down and forward,” the instructor said. “Breathe and feel the massage of your internal organs.”

  “I’d rather have a real massage,” I grunted at Paula.

  She snorted. “Relaxation is in the mind, Kate.”

  “The knots in my neck and shoulders aren’t in my mind. They’re from sleeping screwy while nursing an infant.”

  Paula flashed me a sympathetic expression. She’d recently given birth to a beautiful little girl and had a two-year-old son. She knew my pain.

  “Honestly, I’d rather have stayed home with Laurie, then to succumb to this new age version of so-called serenity,” I growled.

  My little Laurie was five months old now, and she’d changed my entire life’s focus, as children do. Currently Laurie and Paula’s two little ones were being watched by my neighbor, Kenny. Kenny was a young prodigy—only seventeen and already practically a professional musician. He knew how to settle the kids down by serenading them on the trombone. Apart from me constantly having to feed him, which was our standard form of payment—who knew a teenage boy could eat me out of house and home?—he made for a great occasional sitter.

  “Oh, come on. You know you are so glad to be out of that house,” Paula said.

  “Not now, I’m not,” I said.

  “Kate—” Paula started to chide.

  “You promised me girl time and food. I’m pretty sure you mentioned food and mimosas.”

  “We can eat after class,” Paula said calmly, as the instructor took us into a downward dog pose.

  Okay, that stretch I could do.

  “I was after some down time, not physical punishment,” I said to Paula. “When do we get to relax?”

  “I didn’t book the full day package, so no mani-pedi’s or face masks today...” Paula said, “because I knew we’d want to have time to eat.”

  Basically, since finding out I was pregnant with Laurie, I’d been pretty much famished. Now, since I was nursing, my appetite seemed even larger, if that was possible. The same had happened with Paula—but as she gracefully maneuvered into the firefly pose, balancing on her arms, and straightening her legs in the air—it was hard to see where she packed all the food I knew she consumed.

  “But the yoga class does give us access to the hot tub and sauna,” Paula said.

  “That’s more I like it,” I said, jumping to my feet.

  Paula grabbed my arm. “Not so fast. We have to finish the class.”

  “You can finish,” I whispered. “I’ll wait for you in the hot tub.”

  “No!” Paula moaned in a melodramatic tone that caused the instructor to glance in direction.

  I hid my face from the Amazonian woman, so as not to encounter her wrath, but I’m pretty sure she told me to shoosh.

  “Fine,” I whispered to Paula. “I’ll sit here and breathe.”

  “Shoosh,” I heard again, but this time it was from the young woman in front of me.

  You’ll understand someday, sweetheart, I thought to myself as I examined the pretty young woman in leopard print yoga pants performing a nearly perfect split.

  Hmm. I got the impression that some people actually find yoga relaxing.
/>   I certainly was not one of those people.

  When at last the instructor rang the little dismissal chime, I felt like I was minutes away from collapsing. My legs trembled as I stood and gathered up the yoga mat.

  “Hot tub,” I groaned, and Paula giggled at me.

  “Yes, hot tub,” she agreed.

  “Remember to drink lots of water,” the instructor called out. “Clean out those toxins.”

  “I’d like to drink something else,” I joked to Paula as we slipped out of the yoga studio and headed down the hallway.

  I was delighted to return my rented yoga mat to the woman working the counter.

  The woman smiled brightly at us. “I hope you ladies enjoyed Ms. Yantsie’s lesson?”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d hated it, so I did the next best thing and let Paula answer her.

  Paula returned the woman’s smile and said, “It was a blast. I feel refreshed, exhilarated really.”

  I held back a snort.

  “We’d like to check out the hot tub and sauna. Could you point us in the right direction?” I asked.

  The woman pointed her finger to the other side of the lobby. “Right through those double doors, but you ladies will have to wait a few minutes. The floors were just cleaned, and until our janitorial staff gives the thumbs up I’ll have to ask for you to wait in the lobby.”

  Just my luck.

  I feared my sore muscles would seize up if I took another step.

  Paula must have been alarmed by my expression because she grabbed my arm and ushered me towards a bench. “We can hang,” she said over her shoulder to the woman.

  I collapsed onto the leather sofa in the lobby.

  “I think I hate you,” I said to Paula, and she laughed at me.

  “You’re telling me that the yoga didn’t relax you even a tiny bit?” she asked.

  “No,” I said defiantly. “In fact, my neck is tighter than before.”

  Paula flexed her feet and stretched her calves. “That’s a shame. I feel great. I needed this.”

  “I need that hot tub, or a drink...”

  Paula gave me a friendly nudge. “It’s like I always say, I can’t take you anywhere.”

  I giggled. “Sorry, I don’t mean to complain so much. It really is nice to get out of the house for a bit and have an adult conversation.”

  Paula nodded. “I know. There’s only so much cartoon network I can take.”

  I laughed. “You know, darling, the TV does not substitute as a babysitter.”

  “Believe me, Danny doesn’t let me forget it. All he wants to do is play, but I’m nursing a newborn, seems like every minute of the day. How am I supposed to get on all four and play trains or superhero?”

  “You don’t need to play superhero, you are a superhero,” I said with a wink.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like it. These days I just feel tired, and at the same time all I can think about is getting back to work.”

  “You want to get back to work, already? That’s great,” I said.

  After giving birth to Laurie I’d done everything imaginable to keep from returning to the office and leaving Laurie in daycare. But thanks to my efforts and some very chance encounters, I’d ended up with the best work-from-home job I could ever wish for. I was a P.I. in training.

  Paula ran her own company as an interior designer and I knew she loved her work every bit as much as I loved mine.

  “I guess, I feel guilty though,” Paula admitted. “Chloe is only four-weeks-old and I should be all into her Destin-baby-powder-milky smell and I’m not. I’m wondering how quickly I can potty train her and when I can land my next client.”

  “Got any leads?” I asked.

  “No. I lost a little momentum with the business when David took that assignment overseas. And then, well, with the pregnancy and baby...”

  I held up a hand. “Preaching to the choir here. I need a new client too. We’ve got to get some new connections,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Paula said. “I just wish I could skip ahead to the point where my business is already successful and I can focus on the part I like which is talking to clients about their visions and then creating something from scratch. But right now I have to learn to pull most of my attention into marketing and finding new clients. It’s not fun.”

  I nodded, thinking about my own new career. Currently, since I didn’t have a P.I. license I was interning under a former SF Police Officer, Albert Galigani. Fortunately the man had become a good friend and mentor. My own mother thought so too as she was currently dating him.

  Galigani thought I had a knack for investigations, but the work he had me doing currently was background checks for high-tech firms in Silicon Valley. It was steady work, but a bit on the boring side for my liking.

  Paula suddenly bolted upright. “You know what just occurred to me?”

  “What?”

  “Are we planning on getting in the hot tub in our yoga getups?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I thought you had a brilliant idea for landing some new clients.”

  She shook her head. “No, but maybe if we get ready for the hot tub, the hot tub will be ready for us.”

  “A build it and they will come mentality, huh?” I asked.

  “It’s the same kind of mentality we need to land new clients.” She stood and pulled me of the sofa. “Let’s go to the lockers and change, then maybe by the time we get back we will be allowed passage to the revered tub.”

  We headed back down the hall and tucked into the locker room. It was filled with a group of gabby women strutting around half dressed. There were noisy and seemed a bit tipsy. I glanced around the room as Paul quickly changed.

  “I knew there’s a bottle of chardonnay here somewhere...” I whispered to her.

  “Bachelorette party,” Paula said wistfully. “I remember those days.”

  “Good times,” I agreed. “Thin days.”

  Paula flicked her towel at me. “Shut up, Kate, you’re thin now.”

  “I don’t know, I said. “I feel bloated all the time.”

  Paula handed me my swimsuit, and I quickly changed as one of the bachelorette party girls stumbled past me. She wreaked of cucumbers and lime, and for unknown reasons the cloying smell got to me.

  I gagged and suddenly felt queasy.

  Now why would a sweet scent make me nauseas?

  Chapter Two

  At last dressed in our swimwear, Paula and I dipped out of the increasingly loud locker room. Once out of sight of the younger women, Paula made a notion–accompanied by a loud, fake gulp—like she was chugging a bottle.

  “Yeah,” I said in agreement; we could still hear the women’s laughter from the locker room as we arrived back in the lobby. “We picked the wrong spa for peace and quiet.”

  The woman at the counter smiled at us both as we entered. “Hot tub is open, ladies, go on in.”

  Best thing I had heard all day!

  We entered into the large room that hosted two separate hot tubs. The room was pretty drab as far as décor went, and that made Paula cringe slightly as an interior decorator. The walls were an overly bright orange color, and the only décor were a few fake plants in the corner. Either way, the hot tub looked relaxing enough for me.

  Paula and I ditched out towels on a lounge chair and slid into the hot, steamy water.

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “That’s the good stuff. Perfect for my sore muscles.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Paula teased, splashed me slightly. “The yoga class wasn’t that bad. Besides it’s good for you.”

  “I’ll have nightmares tonight about it,” I said.

  Paula laughed, and I sunk deeper into the water letting the hot water relax my shoulders.

  We were silent for a moment and within the short quiet time, guilt crept back into my shoulders, tensing them up again. “Ugh,” I sighed.

  “What it is?” Paula asked, alarmed.

  “I don’t know. I couldn�
�t wait for today. You know, to spend time with you and unwind, and now all I can think about is Laurie. I miss her.”

  “I know how you feel,” Paula said. “I feel guilty every single time I leave my little ones with a sitter. But you know you need your time. Remember the oxygen mask stuff they say on the airplane? You need your oxygen mask on first before you can help anyone else.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. I hope Kenny isn’t too overwhelmed with all three of them,” I said.

  “He’s a smart, well put together kid,” Paula said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Although Danny can be a bit much.”

  “I know. Your little man has more energy than anyone I have ever met,” I said.

  “Are you kidding? Did I tell you we had to move our couch to keep him from sneaking into the kitchen and climbing up onto our table? He watched some superhero movie with David, and now he thinks he can fly. I’m scared I’m one ER visit away from having that little munchkin taken away from me! He’s only two, and he’s already had to have stitches!”

  “Stitches? From what?”

  “He jumped from the table onto the chandelier and fell. And to make matters worse, David bought him a superhero cape—now he thinks he’s Spiderman and that he can fly.”

  “Spiderman doesn’t fly, does he?” I asked. “He sort of scales walls or something.”

  “Well, Danny doesn’t know the difference,” Paula said. “He calls every superhero Spiderman. Though when he says it, it sounds more like Speederman.”

  “That’s so cute,” I said.

  “You say that now, but you better watch what Jim lets Laurie watch. David wants to redo Danny’s room for his next birthday, and do you know what he wants to do for him?”

  “Superheroes?” I asked.

  “Superheroes!” Paula cried out with anguish. “I can’t constantly be pulling my little Speederman off furniture because his daddy wants to bond over his unhealthy obsession with superheroes. I’m worried that if he redoes Danny’s room, the superhero thing will take off to an entirely unmanageable level. I mean ... last week... Danny got into his daddy’s tool kit that someone left out and found a hammer. My Speederman thought he was Thor for a day, and Thor put a hole in the wall in the garage.”