“I don’t have family.” She looked away, then said, “I’m an only child. My father passed away when I was ten. My mother died of a heart attack last year. The Coopers sent me flowers. Then Jarret invited me out here for a visit, and I decided to stay.”
Jarret invited her? Her story and his drifted farther apart. Something about her relationship with the Coopers struck me as fraudulent. If she was so close to Jarret’s family, why didn’t I hear about her years ago?
“I’m sorry about your mother,” I said.
“Don’t be. We weren’t close. I’m happier here.”
“Then I’m glad you’re settled in.” I didn’t know what else to say. Gretchen was clearly smitten with Jarret and had nothing to offer about Margaret Smith. I stopped pedaling and stood up. “Have a good weekend, Gretchen.”
“I will. You, too. What are your plans?” she said.
Aside from my interrogation at the police station, hunting down Margaret Smith, or turning in Kyle for dealing? “Kicking back. Going to a party tonight. What about you?”
“Jarret and I are having dinner.”
Chapter Twenty-five
I circled through the weight room to the back studio. Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” blasted over the overhead speakers. Earl slammed his gloved fists against the leather bag dangling off the ceiling in the corner.
“I hope I didn’t make trouble for you with Kyle,” I said over the music.
He punched at the bag. “He’ll get over it. So will I.”
“I didn’t realize he’s so touchy about his office.”
A double fist to the bag. “Yeah. Tuesday afternoon he went off on Laycee, too”—lower cut to the bag—“like the jerk he is.” Earl stopped and faced me. “Laycee flashed him a sweet Southern smile and more or less told him to shove it. Classic.”
“She went into his office?”
“She interrupted one of Kyle’s private meetings.” Earl smirked. He eyed a member at the far end of the studio and leaned in close, dropping his voice. “I’m sick of the secrecy and superior attitude around here. If Jarret Cooper knew what Kyle was up to in that office, he’d fire his ass. Jarret should let me run the gym. I can bring in the clientele this place deserves. My clients are clean and they have money.”
“Maybe you should talk to Jarret,” I said. “Does he ever come in here?”
“Never. Jarret hasn’t been around since the day Game On opened. If he wants to find out what’s going on, he should spend a day here and see for himself. Some of us trainers are talking about moving our clients to the new gym down the block. Things have to change if Jarret wants us to stay. The only one making serious money here is Kyle Stanger.” Earl spun around and kicked the punching bag with a wide leg swing.
I backed away and unrolled a blue mat on the floor in front of the mirror to stretch. My muscles relaxed into each long stretch as my mind exercised possibilities about Kyle, steroids, Laycee, and Jarret.
By seven-thirty, an unfamiliar weekend crowd jammed all three studios. I bought a bottle of water from the vending machine and as I gratefully downed cold water, my phone rang.
“Did I wake you?” Mom said.
“No, I’m just leaving the gym.” I tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin and walked outside.
“Then you haven’t heard. Your townhouse burned last night.”
“I saw the story on the news before I left this morning,” I said, getting into my car. “What a nightmare. I’m glad everyone got out.”
“I have a bad feeling about this, dear. I drew the Tower in my daily tarot reading—unexpected events, a life-changing jolt out of the past. When I saw the news about the fire, I knew the Tower card warning was for you.”
Mom’s morning tarot reads had little to do with fortune-telling and everything to do with whatever occupied her mind that day. Since I enlisted my parents’ help to clear my name, I wasn’t surprised she translated the card to fit me.
I drove out of the parking lot east onto Ventura Boulevard. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m going to the station with Oliver today to talk to Carla Pratt. Nick and I picked up some new information yesterday about the symbol left on Laycee’s body. The details may not clear me, but I’m hoping Carla will move me to the bottom of her suspect list.”
“That’s encouraging, dear. I worried we’d have to cancel your father’s birthday party tonight.”
“Better bake a file into the cake just in case, Mom. Carla is relentless.”
“We already set your bail money aside,” she said. We both chuckled, a welcome break from the underlying tension. “But dear, I can’t shake this sense of a threat from something or someone else. I felt unsettled energy in your new house the other day. That woman was murdered in the house you lived in with Jarret, and now your old townhouse burned. I’m afraid a malevolent force is seeking you.”
“Unfortunate coincidences. I wasn’t in either house at the time. As soon as the plumber finishes my bathrooms, the disruption at home will settle.” I eased into the left lane and turned left on Laurel Canyon Boulevard toward North Hollywood.