Read Online How to Succeed in Murder by Margaret Dumas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Dumas
Ads: Link
Gosh, Mrs. Fairfax, your husband comes here all the time, but this looks like your first visit. Is this your first visit? Because all the trainers are gone and you should work with a trainer on your first visit.” Her eyes clouded over at this predicament.
“That’s okay,” I told her. “We just want to grab a quick steam before you close. I don’t really need to be trained for that.”
She beamed; training crisis averted. “Okay! Great! And is this your guest?” She gave Brenda a smile that said WorkSpace loved guests, then turned back to me. “You can bring in a guest twice a month for free, but you’re supposed to use the coupons that we send out with your flyer every month. Are you getting the flyer? Do you have a coupon?”
I vaguely recalled seeing the occasional envelope from the gym in the mail, but I’d never opened one.
“I must have forgotten that too.”
Tiff waved her hand. “Never mind.” She grabbed a card from a stack on the counter and handed it to Brenda. “Just fill this out. It’ll be our little secret.” She winked. “How many towels do you guys want?”
Brenda filled out the guest card, which Tiff tossed into a drawer before we took our towels and followed her directions to the women’s locker room.
There were three women just leaving when we got there. They all seemed to have been in the same Pilates class, and were discussing posture and ab strength as they passed us on their way out. Then we were alone.
“This is really nice,” Brenda murmured.
It was. They clearly went in for the swank spa look at WorkSpace. I could understand why Clara had preferred coming here instead of the generic twenty-four hour place that was just down the street from Zakdan.
The lighting was flattering, and the long vanity contained tidy wicker baskets filled with anything a person might possibly forget to put in her gym bag. The aisles were wide, with gleaming wooden benches down the center and hair-and-makeup stations at the ends.
We turned down an aisle. All the locker doors were slightly ajar. I opened one and put my purse in it.
Brenda had gotten quiet. Both of us knew what we were going to do next, and neither of us wanted to do it.
“Brenda, we don’t have to—”
She shook her head. “No. We’re here. It’s why we came.”
She opened another locker and started peeling off her clothes.
When I was wrapped in a towel and my clothes were all hanging in my locker, I tried to close the door. It refused to shut all the way. I opened it again and realized the bolt on the door was extended, preventing it from closing.
“Did they give us keys?”
“I think…” Brenda produced her guest card and inserted it into a slot at the top of the handle. There was a clicking sound, and the bolt retracted. She closed the door. “Ta da.”
“Oh, it’s like a hotel key,” I realized. I popped my temporary membership card in once to unlock mine, then closed the door and swiped the card again to lock it.
“Hey, how did you know Jack got a family membership here?” I asked as I tried to figure out where to put the membership card. Towels don’t have pockets. “Did he say something?”
“No, but it seemed like the sort of thing he’d do.”
“Why? Does he think I’m fat?” Flattering lighting or no, those walls were covered with mirrors, and—
“Don’t be an idiot,” Brenda scolded. “He thinks you’re perfect. And he—”
But further defense of my husband was cut off by an announcement over the loudspeaker system. It was eleven thirty, and the gym would be closing in half an hour.
I met Brenda’s eyes. It was now or never.
We followed a sign pointing the way to the women’s steam room and dry sauna facilities. Both of us hesitated in front of the steam room.
As soon as I opened the door we were engulfed in the white mist that came spilling out. We went in, and when the door closed behind us I could barely see Brenda through the hot wet fog.
This is where Clara had
“That’s okay,” I told her. “We just want to grab a quick steam before you close. I don’t really need to be trained for that.”
She beamed; training crisis averted. “Okay! Great! And is this your guest?” She gave Brenda a smile that said WorkSpace loved guests, then turned back to me. “You can bring in a guest twice a month for free, but you’re supposed to use the coupons that we send out with your flyer every month. Are you getting the flyer? Do you have a coupon?”
I vaguely recalled seeing the occasional envelope from the gym in the mail, but I’d never opened one.
“I must have forgotten that too.”
Tiff waved her hand. “Never mind.” She grabbed a card from a stack on the counter and handed it to Brenda. “Just fill this out. It’ll be our little secret.” She winked. “How many towels do you guys want?”
Brenda filled out the guest card, which Tiff tossed into a drawer before we took our towels and followed her directions to the women’s locker room.
There were three women just leaving when we got there. They all seemed to have been in the same Pilates class, and were discussing posture and ab strength as they passed us on their way out. Then we were alone.
“This is really nice,” Brenda murmured.
It was. They clearly went in for the swank spa look at WorkSpace. I could understand why Clara had preferred coming here instead of the generic twenty-four hour place that was just down the street from Zakdan.
The lighting was flattering, and the long vanity contained tidy wicker baskets filled with anything a person might possibly forget to put in her gym bag. The aisles were wide, with gleaming wooden benches down the center and hair-and-makeup stations at the ends.
We turned down an aisle. All the locker doors were slightly ajar. I opened one and put my purse in it.
Brenda had gotten quiet. Both of us knew what we were going to do next, and neither of us wanted to do it.
“Brenda, we don’t have to—”
She shook her head. “No. We’re here. It’s why we came.”
She opened another locker and started peeling off her clothes.
When I was wrapped in a towel and my clothes were all hanging in my locker, I tried to close the door. It refused to shut all the way. I opened it again and realized the bolt on the door was extended, preventing it from closing.
“Did they give us keys?”
“I think…” Brenda produced her guest card and inserted it into a slot at the top of the handle. There was a clicking sound, and the bolt retracted. She closed the door. “Ta da.”
“Oh, it’s like a hotel key,” I realized. I popped my temporary membership card in once to unlock mine, then closed the door and swiped the card again to lock it.
“Hey, how did you know Jack got a family membership here?” I asked as I tried to figure out where to put the membership card. Towels don’t have pockets. “Did he say something?”
“No, but it seemed like the sort of thing he’d do.”
“Why? Does he think I’m fat?” Flattering lighting or no, those walls were covered with mirrors, and—
“Don’t be an idiot,” Brenda scolded. “He thinks you’re perfect. And he—”
But further defense of my husband was cut off by an announcement over the loudspeaker system. It was eleven thirty, and the gym would be closing in half an hour.
I met Brenda’s eyes. It was now or never.
We followed a sign pointing the way to the women’s steam room and dry sauna facilities. Both of us hesitated in front of the steam room.
As soon as I opened the door we were engulfed in the white mist that came spilling out. We went in, and when the door closed behind us I could barely see Brenda through the hot wet fog.
This is where Clara had
Similar Books
