Read Online Nobody Lives Forever by Edna Buchanan - Free Book Online Page B

their families, another perk of the job. Rows of Nautilus machines resembled medieval instruments of torture, with their straps, stirrups and gleaming metal. Treadmills, weights, rowing machines, exercise bikes and the men and women using them were reflected everywhere in mirrored walls. What had been a ballroom was now lined with ballet barres, carpeted in pale green and also mirrored for classes in aerobic dance, Jazzercise and total conditioning. Aqua-aerobics took place, weather permitting, in an Olympic-size pool overlooking the bay and the city skyline.
    Nearly naked, seated on a bench in front of a row of lockers, Dusty was pulling on her tights when she saw Laurel, just three feet away. Her first reaction was to wince, wondering if the conversation had been overheard. To her relief, Laurel, wearing a white leotard and adjusting her pink headband, looked as startled as she was. Both smiled after an awkward moment. “Hi, Laurel!” Dusty sang out the greeting as she got to her feet. “Thank God for spandex,” she said, patting her hip. “It hides a multitude of sins, or at least pulls them all together.”
    â€œYou have nothing to worry about.” Laurel looked uncomfortably at the rosy, full-blown and bouncing breasts. Dusty was stuffing unselfconsciously into her black leotard. Her own were mere buds by comparison. “I didn’t know you were a member.”
    â€œNo choice, since the cop shop’s group medical refuses to pay for liposuction. And what do you mean , nothing to worry about?” She finished tying a shoelace. “I always wanted dimples, but not in my thighs, which, unfortunately, is where they have appeared. Time to fight the war against cellulite! Let’s go!” She reached into her locker for a set of red hand weights, then slammed the door.
    She smiled and tossed a casual arm around Laurel’s shoulder. Laurel quickly stepped away, out of reach, a reflex she seemed to instantly regret. “Here.” She snatched two towels off a stack still warm from the dryer. “Take one.”
    â€œSure.” Dusty took the towel, hesitated, then followed Laurel out into the big mirrored room. She had wanted to ask if there was any progress in the Thorne case but swallowed the impulse. Rick probably did not talk shop with Laurel anyway. What did they have in common? Rick might still be working if they had come up with some good leads. Where is he, she wondered. Home in his bed? Alone? His long lean body warm with sleep? If he is, and I lived there, she thought, I wouldn’t be here. Was the unmistakable glow Laurel wore, unenhanced by makeup, the aftermath of sex or simply the bloom of youth? She sighed. Her instinct was to be pleasant but not too friendly. She did not want Laurel to sense her feelings.
    In another time, another life, she might have reached out to Terry Lou, or even to Laurel, as a friend. They obviously had something in common, the same taste in men, or at least one man. But friends no longer came easily, casually for her. When Dusty had chosen Miami for a fresh start, she had deliberately severed all old ties, leaving them behind, with everything that was painful. Hoping to become a brand-new woman, without a past, she kept no relationships and after five years had made little effort to cultivate new ones. She had dropped the barriers only once—unfortunately. With Rick, all things had seemed possible. She had been convinced for a time that her life would be rich and full, but, she told herself, she should have known better. Some shadows never fade.
    Most of the center’s aerobics instructors were women. But today it was Barry, a high-energy young man who wore a ponytail, headband and stretch tights that left little to the imagination. Dusty was pleased. Barry liked the music loud. She deliberately chose a spot in front of a powerful stereo speaker. The booming music would blast all thoughts out of her mind. She liked not