Chapter 1 Welcome to Paradise

It was the kind of morning I’ve experienced only in Hawai‘i: plumeria-and-ginger-scented air, gentle humidity, trade winds rustling the coconut palms overhead, shards of golden sunlight glinting off the turquoise pool. I’m not much of a water person, but the aqua jogging class at Kon-Tiki Sands Senior Living Oasis seemed a good way to get my feet wet—so to speak—in the group activities offered here.

An easy camaraderie flowed among my new neighbors as I followed the women through the unlocked gate, into a delightful courtyard planted with a profusion of colorful blooms. Quite a change from mornings in Manhattan. I’d just moved from a city of millions and an impersonal apartment complex that housed thousands, to this co-op of twelve units. I could already see I was going to love it here.

The woman called Coralee hefted her bag of workout equipment. Her henna-red hair was cut in a wash-and wear style, her skin tanned and heavily freckled. She power-walked across the concrete deck to a row of lounge chairs, leaving the rest of us with a view of her toned backside. She was in amazing shape for a woman who had to be near eighty. If that’s what water exercise does, let me plunge right in!

“What’s that in the hot tub?” one of the ladies called out.

Heads rotated toward the heart-shaped in-ground hot tub—a relic, I’m told, from the building’s previous incarnation as a swinging singles’ complex. Something pink floated on water’s surface.

“Looks like a towel blew in there,” someone else said.

“Towels don’t float.” This was the tall, mocha-skinned woman who’d introduced herself to me that morning as Tiare. I guessed her age to be seventy to seventy-five but she held herself like a much younger woman. With her coloring and high cheekbones, she might have been Polynesian or even African American. Certainly she’d been stunning in her youth.

“Whatever it is, someone should grab it before it gets sucked into the filter,” said Sylvie, a pleasant looking woman who had the self-confidence to leave her hair to its natural gray. I wondered about the pair of white nylon panties she sported over her black one-piece swimsuit. No one else had mentioned it, and as the new girl in town I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to point out the wardrobe faux pas.

“I’ll get it,” Esther offered, making a beeline for the hot tub.

Esther is a plus-sized black woman who wears her hair cropped close to her scalp and dyed yellow-blond. She was the first friend I’d made since moving into my newly-purchased condo four days ago. While other neighbors had nodded a polite hello at the mailboxes or in the laundry room, Esther presented herself at my door with a welcoming smile and a loaf of freshly baked banana bread. I’d gratefully abandoned my unpacking and we settled at my kitchen table for a gabfest, like two girls in a college dorm.

Coralee handed out blue Styrofoam aqua jogging belts and barbells, while the others chatted among themselves, seemingly in no hurry to get in the pool. I set my towel and my cane on a lounge chair, accepted one of the bulky belts, and snapped it around my waist.

I was adjusting the strap when a shriek, unlike anything I’d ever heard before, pierced the air.

I whipped my head around just in time to see Esther go down in a heap beside the hot tub. The sound her body made as it hit the concrete deck seemed as loud as a rifle crack.

“Oh no—Esther!” I shouted, grabbing my towel.“Someone call nine-one-one!”

Dear God, please don’t let her hip be broken, I prayed as I made my way toward her still body as fast as I could manage without my cane. I refused to think about what medical condition might’ve caused her to lose consciousness so suddenly.

Esther had landed on her back with arms and legs splayed. She was out cold. The thick aqua jogging belt made movement awkward but I managed to crouch and slide my folded towel under her head. Checking her pulse, I looked to the group of swimsuit-clad women. Every one of them stood frozen in shock, gaping at me and Esther—except Coralee, who held a cell phone to her ear.

At least someone had her wits about her.

Esther’s heartbeat throbbed steadily under my fingers. Her breathing was regular. I didn’t dare move her in case something had broken in her hard fall. There was nothing more I could do for her until the ambulance arrived.

Only when I felt sure Esther was stable was my mind was able to register what I’d glimpsed in the hot tub. I struggled up from the ground—a real trick with my bad knees—and peered into the shallow water.

A woman floated face down, a pale pink chenille bathrobe spread over her back, her halo of curly auburn hair snaking out from her head like Medusa.

“I need help!” I yelled as I hurried down the steps into the hot tub.

How long had she been here? I knew from my Red Cross First Aid class that seconds can count. I needed to get her face out of the water.

My feet hit the slippery tiled steps and shot out from under me, plunging me into the tepid water. I went under. Using the rail to right myself, I hurried to the woman, grasped her shoulder, and struggled to turn her onto her back.

She flopped over with a small splash. Her bathrobe gaped open in front, revealing her naked body. I reached for her neck to check for a pulse, but instantly recoiled.

“Oh God, no,” I whispered.

The woman’s eyes were wide open, clouded with death. There would be no pulse.

Unable to take my eyes off her, I backed away, up the steps, distancing myself from the body as fast as my trembling legs would move.

Then I saw it.

I froze, staring in morbid fascination. Her left breast, a double-D, bobbed with the movement of the water. Her right breast lay empty on her chest like a deflated balloon. What had happened to this poor woman?

I wanted to look away, but I could not. When I reached the top step, I lost my footing and tumbled backwards. Pain shot through my derrière as it made contact with the hard deck, inches from where Esther lay.

Great. Now two of us were down. Well—three, if you counted the woman in the hot tub.

Stunned, I took several deep breaths before gingerly moving my arms and legs, checking for damage. Nothing seemed to be broken, but I was going to have some spectacular bruises tomorrow.

Esther stirred. Little noises came from her mouth, like someone talking in their sleep, trying to come awake from a dream.

“Esther—are you okay?” I asked.

Her eyelids fluttered. “She’s … dead … isn’t she?”

I glanced toward the hot tub. “I’m afraid so.”

“Lord have mercy. Go forth Christian soul from this world …” Esther mumbled as the wail of an approaching siren filled the air.