Murder Most Maine by Karen MacInerney Read Free Book Online

Starting weights, goals, dietary habits, medications, allergies—pretty personal stuff. Had Elizabeth been looking for these?
    Tucked under the client files was a folder stuffed with my original meal plans, with a few scribbles here and there where changes had been made. And a shipping notice from Nature’s Path supplement company. The latest order was for 2,000 units of capsules: underneath was a list of ingredients. I ran my eyes down the page, curious what Dirk was handing out to my guests. The list was pretty short, actually: Rhodiola rosea , Green Tea Extract, Creatine, and something called EPH. I didn’t remember Dirk listing Creatine or EPH among the ingredients he’d recited earlier. Were they safe? And what were they supposed to do to help weight loss?
    Whatever was in the capsules, Dirk appeared to be an avid user of the stuff himself; as I turned down the sheets and laid a sugar-free mint on his pillow, I noticed a bottle of the capsules on his nightstand. At least he practiced what he preached.
    After a brief check of the rest of the room, I closed and relocked the door, unsure what to do about the Elizabeth situation—and uncomfortable with the fact that Dirk was handing out supplements to my guests. Vanessa and Dirk hadn’t mentioned them to me when they were scheduling the retreat. On the other hand, since the company had recently been featured in a national women’s magazine—and evidently had hundreds, if not thousands, of satisfied clients—maybe I was worrying about nothing.
    The faint aroma of spicy perfume hit me as I opened the next door. Vanessa’s door.
    I closed it behind me and did a quick visual survey. Like most of the other rooms, Vanessa’s was neat. Unlike the others, though, and in distinct contrast to Dirk’s, it was so neat that it looked uninhabited. The dresser and bathroom counters were completely free of the personal care items—hairbrushes, bottles of lotion, shampoo—that usually accumulated there, and her suitcase was tucked neatly in the corner of the closet.
    Despite my more-than-cursory glance at Dirk’s room, as an innkeeper I generally try to take a minimalist approach to my guests’ room—kind of a get-in, get-out, notice-as-little-as-possible way of doing things. But I must confess that it’s hard to resist snooping in your boyfriend’s ex’s room.
    Particularly when you’re wondering whether she has designs on your beau.
    So even though I was probably breaking the innkeeper’s code of ethics (if such a thing exists), I couldn’t help opening one or two drawers.
    Within a matter of minutes I learned many things about Vanessa. One, that her Donna Karan Jeans were a size zero. Two, that she didn’t take Dirk’s supplements to maintain her previously mentioned disgustingly skinny status. And three, that she had received a lot of recent correspondence from attorneys. I didn’t open the envelopes—you have to draw the line somewhere—but I found a stack of them in the top drawer of the desk. Why would a weight-loss program need attorneys? Were there problems with the supplements? Or was it a personal issue? I was about to go ahead and peek into one of the envelopes, just to find out, but then a stab of conscience hit me. It wouldn’t be ethical to go through the envelopes. Heck, it might not even be legal. Reluctantly, I stepped away from the desk and picked up my basket of mints. A minute later I let myself out of the retreat leader’s perfume-scented room.
    By the time I’d made it back downstairs to the first floor, the group had finished their evening calisthenics, and Dirk’s baritone had been replaced by the murmur of primarily female voices. Before heading into the fray, I stopped at the front desk to return the skeleton key to its hook in a cabinet behind the desk—and to see if the spare key to Dirk’s room was in place. To my relief, the little gold key was hanging on its hook, right where it belonged. Unfortunately, there was no way to know