The Mystic Retreat Mystery
By Maya Anders
The venue for the meditation retreat was an isolated private house in rural Vermont. The long driveway wound its way through the opulent grounds, which had been carefully landscaped to give approaching visitors a panoramic view of the palatial neo-gothic mansion. I wasn’t impressed—in fact I was pissed off. I’m a fun-loving city girl through and through. This sort of thing might be okay for arty types like my mother—and of course it was my mother who sent me here. She said it would improve my soul. That wasn’t a prospect I was looking forward to; I like my soul the way it is, cynical and hedonistic.
I rolled the car to a stop in the small parking lot. It was the latest model Tesla roadster, sleek and sexy like me—and self-righteously eco-friendl
