It all started with the coupon. After a particularly difficult case, I had returned to my office, exhausted and more than a little frustrated. I hadn't noticed the envelope slipped under the door until I'd nearly slipped on it. Curiosity and annoyance warred in me as I picked up the mysteriously unmarked envelope. Who could have left this for me, and why stick it under the door? I had a perfectly good mailbox, after all. There would be no answers unless I opened it, however, so I did just that. Inside was a single coupon for an all-expenses-paid stay at the "Spring in Your Step Retreat and Spa", a fairly upscale hot springs resort. I wouldn't have been able to afford this on my budget even if I took a new case every week! The only other item in the envelope was a brief note, which only said: "Thank you." I had to assume it was a client of mine from some previous case, but if that were true, why not sign the note? Curiouser and curiouser. I supposed that the only way I would clear up this mystery would be to go to the resort itself. However, my instincts were telling me to be wary: what if it wasn't a gesture of gratitude, as it seemed? As a defense attorney, I'd made nearly as many enemies as friends. Someone could be leading me into some sort of trap. On the other hand, being paranoid about this would be a great way to miss out on a really nice vacation. I decided to chance it. Dialing up the number to the resort, I told them about the coupon and asked if I could make a reservation for the following week. "Of course, Mister Wright. We've been expecting your call," said the receptionist pleasantly. "Check in is at three o'clock. We'll see you next Friday"
Slightly unnerved, I wrote down the time and day, then hung up the phone. Definitely not a hoax, then, but I still didn't know who had sent me such a generous gift, or why. It was a sad comment on the state of things in this world, I think, that finding this envelope had caused me more anxiety and suspicion than joy. Such was the lot of a lawyer.

The following Friday, I closed up the office early and caught the next bus out of town. It was a long trip into the mountains, but well worth it. I arrived at a little after three, and was greeted immediately at the front desk by a smiling attendant. She took my name, handed me my keys, and even had a bellhop take my small suitcase up to the room for me. "You're really lucky," she told me brightly. "Someone must really think highly of you, to give you the coupon for our premium package experience. Here's an itinerary for everything the coupon covers." I took the offered pamphlet and thanked her before heading to my room.
It was more like a suite, though in an elegantly understated sort of way. The room was spacious and comfortable, but not gaudy or over-furnished. There was rush matting underfoot, lights that were electric but designed to look like fancy paper lanterns, and a soft, large bed that didn't come up any higher than my shins. The decor reminded me of a cross between a tropical getaway and a traditional Japanese home. It had a surprisingly relaxing effect.
I sat down on the low bed and flipped open the itinerary the girl at the front desk had given me. My eyes just about rolled out of my head when I realized what this "premium package" covered. Twenty-four hour access to any of the four hot springs on the resort grounds, a daily massage, three meals a day at the hotel restaurant, and a special selection of other features the spa offered-- some of which had me frankly baffled. What was ear candling, anyway?
As I pondered what I should do first, there came a knock at my door. I hadn't ordered any room service, but I opened the door anyway. Another attendant stood there holding a white folded bundle. "If you're going to the hot springs or the spa, please wear these for your comfort." I accepted the bundle, and the attendant left. Unfolding the white, towel-like fabric revealed a light, short-sleeved bathrobe and a pair of tie-front slacks. They looked plenty comfortable, so I changed into them immediately. "A soak in a hot spring sounds really good, actually," I decided finally, checking the handy map on my door and heading in that direction. So far, it seemed as though this vacation was everything it was supposed to be: just a generous gesture of gratitude from an anonymous but satisfied client. I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The hot spring was exactly as wonderful as the pamphlet said, complete with a natural stone pool, bamboo privacy walls, a tasteful little rock garden at one end with a tranquility fountain, and some of the best authentic Japanese sake I'd ever tasted. I wasn't a heavy drinker by nature or practice, but by the time I crawled out of the pool and made my way back to my room for a nice snooze, I was feeling pretty warm and floaty. However, as soon as I entered the room, I was immediately alert; somebody had been in here while I was gone.
There were flowers on the low table, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room aside from the bed. Not just any flowers, either. White clover, yellow daffodills, fragrant sprigs of rosemary, and a few I didn't know the names for all arranged in an elegant stone vase. They didn't quite fit the decor, so I was fairly certain the hotel staff hadn't left them for me. Not only that, but there was a card. I opened it with some trepidation, though my curiosity won out as always.

"Wright,
I am here at the resort. Meet me for dinner at seven in the restaurant. You will know me when you see me."

That cryptic invitation left me suddenly cold, even though I'd been pleasantly warm only moments ago. So, this was it, then. I was to meet my mysterious benefactor for supper... and then what? Be murdered? Framed for murder? Be forced to take on yet another client in a seemingly impossible case?
Or, maybe, the only thing that would happen that evening would be some enlightenment as to who summoned me here and why. I could live with that, not to mention a good dinner. With a short laugh at my own paranoia, I set the card back on the table and changed into some of my own clothes for my evening rendezvous.

I arrived at the restaurant nearly twenty minutes early. The anticipation was driving me nuts, especially since I couldn't figure out who had sent me the coupon and the flowers. The whole situation smacked of a secret admirer, which immediately made me think it was a woman, but somehow the mysterious circumstances and the way that note had been written, with very masculine handwriting, left me uncertain. A quick glance around the restaurant revealed no familiar faces, so I had to assume I had arrived first. Good. That would allow me the opportunity to watch for my "admirer" as he or she walked in through the restaurant entrance, giving me time to make a run for the restrooms if I felt there was going to be trouble. Too bad I hadn't factored in the possibility that my admirer had, in fact, arrived before me and would be coming out of those very restrooms. As I stared intently at the double doors to the restaurant entrance, I was startled by a familiar, rich baritone voice coming from behind me.
"I wasn't expecting you so early, Wright," Godot greeted smoothly. "I'm glad you came."

To be continued!