Black Canyon Conspiracy. Cindi Myers

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       Chapter Five

      The low-slung cedar and stone buildings of the Dayspring Wellness Center looked more like an exclusive vacation resort than a medical facility. Fountains and flowers dotted the lavish landscaping, and the few people Lauren and Sophie saw once they’d left their car in the parking lot were tanned and casually dressed as if on their way to a tennis game or setting out to hike in the nearby hills.

      “Maybe we should look into checking in here,” Sophie said as they made their way up a paved walkway lined with brilliant blooming flowers. “This is way nicer than our apartment. And we wouldn’t have to cook or clean.”

      Lauren stopped before a signpost with markers pointing toward the dining room, gym, pool and treatment rooms. “This all must cost a fortune.”

      “Then, how is Phil paying for it? Wasn’t he hassling you for money before you disappeared?”

      “He wanted me to increase his support payments.” Because Lauren had earned more money than Phil, an actor with a small theater company, the court had ordered her to pay him support after their divorce. “But I haven’t given him any money in months.” While Prentice had held her captive, she hadn’t had access to her bank accounts, then she hadn’t been working, recovering from her ordeal. Now that she’d been fired, no telling when she’d be able to pay him.

      Then again, not having access to her money had forced him to admit that his drug habit had gotten out of hand, and he had to seek help. When the Rangers had questioned him about her disappearance, he’d been living in a fleabag motel on the edge of town. “Maybe his girlfriend came into money.” When they’d divorced, Phil had been seeing an actress he worked with.

      “Maybe Richard Prentice is footing the bill,” Sophie said. “In exchange for a few ‘favors.’”

      “I don’t know.”

      They headed to a building marked Welcome Center. “We’re here to see Phillip Starling,” Lauren said.

      The receptionist consulted her computer. “He’s in Pod A.” She indicated a map on the desk in front of her. “Follow this walkway around back and you’ll see the groups of cottages are labeled. He’s probably in the courtyard. We encourage our guests to spend as much time as possible out of doors, enjoying nature.”

      Lauren thanked her and they headed down the walk she’d indicated. “What’s the difference between a patient and a guest?” Lauren asked.

      “Maybe a couple thousand dollars a day?” Sophie guessed.

      They found Pod A and walked under a stone archway into a courtyard with padded loungers and shaded tables arranged around a gurgling fountain. Phil, his back to them, sat at one of the tables, talking with a young woman who stood beside a cart next to the table.

      As Lauren and Sophie drew nearer, the woman laughed and playfully swatted Phil’s shoulder. “You are so bad,” she chided.

      “Come back after you get off and I’ll show you how bad—and how good—I can be,” he said.

      She laughed again, then saw the two women. “I’d better go,” she said, and rolled her cart away.

      “Hello, Phil,” Lauren said.

      He turned toward her and arched one eyebrow. “You’re about the last person I expected to see here.”

      Hair cut, clean shaven and wearing a polo shirt and pressed khakis, he looked much better than the last time she’d seen him. He had a tan and had put on a few pounds. Her ex-husband was definitely handsome. She waited for the catch in her throat that always happened when she saw him again after time apart, and was relieved when it didn’t come. Maybe she was finally getting over him. “You’re looking good,” she said.

      “You, too.” He stood and kissed her cheek, and nodded to her sister. “Hello, Sophie.”

      “Hello, Phil.” Her greeting was cool; Sophie had never liked Phil, and when he’d left Lauren for another woman she’d stopped trying to hide her disdain.

      “What brings you two here?” he asked. “Did you miss me?”

      “We wanted to talk to you about Richard Prentice,” Lauren said. No sense being coy.

      Some of the cheerfulness went out of his eyes, replaced by edgy caution. “What about him?”

      “The grand jury refused to indict him on charges of kidnapping,” Sophie said.