“Did he see you?” Nick said.
“I doubt if Jarret noticed anything around him. If he did, he saw multiples. He was drunk. But I ducked back in the bar and pointed him out to Nozzle.”
“And?” I said.
“He confirmed Jarret met Laycee on Monday night. Go home, kids. Tomorrow I’ll reach out to my buddies downtown then check in with you after.” Dad took out his keys and started to walk away.
“Dad?”
He stopped and turned. “What Lizzie?”
“Thanks. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby girl. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
After a night of restless tossing under my light cotton sheet, my eyes opened to the dark sky outside my bedroom windows. I glanced at the clock: 4:55. Didn’t matter. I was done battling for sleep. Erzulie snoozed at my side, curled into a ball. Feeling sticky and grimy again, I sniffed under an arm and winced.
I canceled the alarm before it went off, threw on some shorts, a T-shirt, and my gym shoes, and then wandered bleary-eyed into the kitchen. At the first gurgle of hot water through the coffee filter, I perked up and remembered Stan and Angel wouldn’t be working on my bathroom today.
“We’ve got the house to ourselves, kiddo,” I said to Erzulie at my feet. She twitched her whiskers. “Yep, no Stan. This calls for a celebration. How about a nice yellow can of cat food this morning?”
Erzulie blinked in total agreement. Yellow was her favorite. She hopped on the counter and watched me take the can out of the cupboard then scoop the glop into her dish. While she inhaled her meal, I went upstairs to pack clean clothes and my wallet into my backpack. For once, I didn’t have to rush out and rush home. I even had time to stop to pick up cash for the weekend.
When I arrived at the gym, I spotted Kyle and Earl in the weight room with clients. I parked my bag on an empty shelf and climbed onto my favorite treadmill in the deserted cardio room. With Sir Mix-A-Lot rapping “Baby Got Back” in my headphones, I set the speed and cranked the elevation to three. Thirty minutes later, I dropped the elevation back to one, gulping in air. I hopped off the treadmill and stopped for a towel at the front desk. Billy Miles walked in.
“Feels good to work out early, doesn’t it?” I said, wiping my face.
“I’ll get back to you on that in an hour.” Billy tossed his wallet and keys in an open cubbyhole. “You’re kind of new around here. Did you just become a member?”
“Ages ago, but I just started coming in again this week. I usually run outside and stretch at home. I use my membership for rainy days and emergencies.”
Billy took off his sweatshirt and tossed it in a slot. “It never rains here. What’s a gym emergency?”
“Heat waves and broken plumbing. I saw you train with Kyle the other day. How long have you been his client?”
“Since the gym opened. I can’t get in here as much as I’d like to. I spend half of my time in Atlanta, on the set for my show. Kyle’s great. He’s become a friend. In fact, I helped him get into acting class. The guy has natural talent and he’s an excellent trainer.”
“Sad news about Laycee Huber, isn’t it?” I said.
Billy’s face went blank.
“The woman Kyle brought to your suite at the game Tuesday night?”
“Do you mean the Southern chick with the Star Trek ears?” he said.
“She was murdered Wednesday morning.”
“No kidding? I don’t pay attention to the news. What happened?”
“Someone attacked her at a home in Encino.”
He stepped back, mouth open. “No kidding. Wow. I mean, no disrespect but I thought she was obnoxious. Wow.”
“Obnoxious?” I said as Tess joined us.
“Relentless, actually. Laycee pitched for an audition for my show Atlanta Wife Life and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Relentless and annoying,” Billy said.
“You weren’t interested in hiring her?”
“Honey, she wasn’t interesting,” Billy said. “No disrespect again, but her dull face, big ears, and cliché body came with a boring backstory. Married to a lawyer? Yawn. Not ratings material. The other stars on the show would have demolished her, and no one would have cared. Not even if she got a divorce. But wow—murdered? Man, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear she died.”
Tess tossed her keys on a shelf. She swept her tight blonde curls off her face with a headband and said, “Are you talking about the murder in Encino? I saw the woman’s photo on the news yesterday. Kyle’s friend, right?”
I nodded. “Laycee Huber.”
“You won’t believe this—you and she were in my dream last night. You, Laycee, and a cheerleader got into a fistfight over Charlie Sheen on a lifeboat.”
Billy threw her a cynical glare and bolted to the cardio room, leaving me trapped.
“My psychic visions are never wrong,” Tess said.
“Gee, I hope I didn’t win the fight.”
Chapter Seventeen