Exercise Is Murder

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Yeah, and some guy answered. Said he was Levi Bradley. You know, the baseball player?”

  Sara had no idea. Neither Sean nor she followed sports. They didn’t have the time even if they’d wanted to. “I don’t, but why was he answering her phone?”

  “He is—was—Katie’s boyfriend.”

  “I assume Katie was your client?”

  “Oh, yeah, Katie Carpenter. Guess I hadn’t said her name. Levi said the police are saying it was an accident.”

  Accident was a trigger word for Sara. “Can you tell me any more?”

  “Apparently, she fell from a path that runs along the top of a hill, tumbled down, and wound up facedown in the Hudson River. I don’t think she fell. I think someone pushed her.”

  Chills went down Sara’s arms, but she could hear Sean’s voice directing her to logic. “It’s never easy to accept the death of someone we care about.”

  “Sara, I am being very serious with you right now. Someone killed Katie, and I need you to find out who.”

  Sara’s gaze went to the stack of applications already in the queue, then back to Mirela’s pleading eyes. “I’ll see what we can do, but I’ll need more details.”

  -

  Chapter 4

  WORKING OUT THE KINKS

  Sean was seeing some light. The stack of applications he’d reviewed was larger than the ones he had yet to do. He got up and lifted his arms high above his head, twisted at the hips, stretched his neck side to side. His eyes caught the clock on the wall. His first thought went to Jimmy, who was probably armed with a Swiss-and-alfalfa-on-rye sandwich and headed in to see Needham right at this moment. His second thought went to grabbing something to eat himself, but he’d ask Sara to join him.

  He went down the hall and noticed her door was shut, but he could see through its window that Sara was sitting on the couch with Mirela. Sara was holding a box of tissues, and her body was leaning toward Mirela. Something was wrong.

  He knocked, and Sara looked up and came to the door.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  “Not by a long shot.” Sara looked over her shoulder to Mirela and nudged the door shut a bit with her foot, blocking him out. “Mirela, would it be all right if Sean joined us?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Sara stepped out of his way and widened her door. “She needs our help,” she whispered to him as he entered.

  Sara closed the door behind him and resumed her spot on the couch next to Mirela. Sean took the chair in the corner, moving the pile of applications that were there to the floor. He greeted the trainer, and she reciprocated. He noted her puffy eyes and the used tissue in her hand. He’d guess someone had died.

  Sara was the first to speak and filled him in. “Mirela was just telling me about a client of hers, Katie Carpenter, who died a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Oh, she didn’t die, Sara. I told you I think someone murdered her.” Mirela was quick to jump in with her correction.

  Think someone murdered her.

  Sean settled deeper into his chair. Just because someone thought something didn’t make it fact. His logic-based mind would need a lot more before he’d be swayed into believing there was something that Sara and he could do to help. He clasped his hands on his lap. “What happened?”

  Sara locked eyes with him and answered for Mirela. “Katie was found in the Hudson River.”

  Mirela took over. “The police have ruled it an accident, saying that she fell from a trail that runs through the Corning City Preserve, but it was no accident. I feel it in my bones,” Mirela pleaded. “Katie ran along that trail every day, probably for about eight months. Maybe more.”

  Add feel it to the determining factors in this case. Sean cleared his throat, and both women looked at him.

  “Whereabouts along the path?” Sean asked, trying to play along and, at the same time, seeking a good image of the terrain in his mind. He’d run some of those trails himself in the past.

  “I don’t know exactly, but from what I understand, it was isolated and ran along the hill that overlooked the river.”

  Mirela’s description could fit a few areas in the preserve. He also remembered sections that ran tight to the edge of the hill and how the Hudson was eroding the hillside. Though if the path had given out and taken Katie Carpenter along with it, that’s what Mirela would have told them. Still, Sean would ask. “Is the trail itself intact?”

  “As far as I know.”

  Sean glanced at Sara. Her heart was large, and he loved that about her, but sometimes death didn’t give closure to the ones left behind. He liked Mirela and respected her, but if he and Sara were going to take this any further, he needed to know more. “When did police rule her death an accident?”

  Mirela sniffled. “Levi said on Saturday.”

  “Just two days ago?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sean studied her. This didn’t feel right. Case closed in less than two weeks. The police must have had solid evidence to indicate it was an accident.

  “You know what? I’m getting the feeling I probably shouldn’t have come. I’m sor—” Mirela moved to get up, and Sara put a hand out to stay her.

  “We’re glad you came to us,” Sara said, shooting a warning glare at Sean. “We’d love to help you in whatever way we can.”

  “But?” Mirela served back.

  Sean’s gaze went to the applications he’d moved to the floor; he thought of the ones back in his office. Their plates were more than full, but when he caught his wife’s pleading eyes, he lost his resolve to fight—against his better judgment, it turned out. “We’ll do what we can, Mirela. We’ll ask around.”

  Mirela’s face lit up. “I don’t expect you to do it for nothing. I’d be happy to cover any fees associated with the investigation.”

  Sean felt like he was sliding down a steep hill with no traction. He hadn’t exactly said they’d investigate; he said they’d do what they could. But with the hopeful spark in Mirela’s eyes and the subtle smile of approval on his wife’s lips, he wasn’t prepared to disappoint either one of them. “That would be appreciated. Thank you,” he said, getting up.

  Mirela shook his hand, then Sara’s, and left.

  Sara wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve married the best man on the planet.”

  “I’m going to remind you of that as often as possible.” He kissed her, then put his arms on her hips and pushed her out from him, his gaze going to the stack of applications. “What are we going to do about them?”

  “They’ll be right there waiting for us when we finish up the case we’ve just taken on.”

  “I should have known you’d say something like that. One stop first. We can’t be effective on an empty stomach.” He held his arm out for her to slip hers through.

  -

  Chapter 5

  REFUELING FOR THE LONG HAUL

  Sara picked Orlando’s Bistro, where she and Sean often took lunch. It was a quaint little place with the most amazing and tasty menu. In the warmer months, they often took to the patio where ivy grew around the iron railings, and potted flowers added splashes of color. The patio was still set up, but the breeze was a little cool, so they opted for a table inside.

  “We’ll need to contact the officer who was assigned the case to see if they’re willing to part with pictures and their notes,” Sara said, reaching for her glass of water.

  “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. It sounds closed to me.”

  Sara nodded her agreement and appreciated Sean playing along. Her husband was being kind when he’d told Mirela they’d do what they could and hadn’t realized the corner he’d backed himself into. She’d do what she could to make him feel better about his choice.

  “If they approached Katie’s death from the
perspective of an accident from the start, they might have missed evidence that would indicate otherwise.” The most important thing in any investigation was objectivity, but so often it was flawed through the lens of the human eye. People saw what they wanted to see, not necessarily as they actually were. In that vein, if the detective on the case saw the scene as an accident, even if there was evidence of foul play, it could have been overlooked or its importance downplayed.

  “We should find out the autopsy results,” Sean said. “Cause of death.”

  “Yeah, and won’t Jimmy be thrilled.”

  “Jimmy might still be at the morgue talking to Needham about the Devin case.” His lips curled in a smirk, and that did her heart good to see.

  “See, we’ve done him a favor. He can ask about Katie Carpenter while he’s still there. We’ve saved him another trip.”

  “Not sure that Jimmy will see it the same way.” But Sean was pulling out his cell phone and had it to his ear before Sara could say another word. “Jimmy,” Sean said, “need you to do us a favor… Yeah, another one.” Sean smiled at Sara and, not long later, ended the call.

  “Let me guess… he was just about to head out?” Sara chewed her last mouthful of her salad and set down her fork, finished and satisfied.

  “Something like that, but he’s on it.”

  “Probably not with quite as much enthusiasm as that.”

  “I can assure you not.”

  The server came over and cleared their plates and asked if they wanted anything else. Sean requested the check.

  Sara was running through the inventory of things they should do: obtain police reports and case files; find out more about Katie Carpenter and dig into her personal life; interview Mirela and possibly other trainers at the gym and the boyfriend, Levi Bradley; visit the location of the accident-slash-possible-murder site—something they’d get from the police files. A look around Katie’s apartment could also prove helpful. Then she thought of something else they typically found useful in investigations. “We’ll need to call Adam, get his help,” she said.

  Adam’s tech savviness came in handy more often than not. The real world blended so much with cyberspace, sometimes it was hard to note a distinction.

  Sara continued. “We’ll have him look into her online life, see what’s going on there. He might get a picture of Katie’s relationship with Levi; one that might differ from what he presents to us when we pay him a visit. Also, who Katie’s best friends had been. There might be more people out there besides Mirela who don’t think Katie died because of an accident.”

  “Yeah, and we might need to talk to her family too.”

  Sara nodded. “Of course.”

  “All these people should have already been questioned by police.”

  Just when she thought he’d set his reservations aside. “You know we always conduct our own interviews, regardless.” She shouldn’t have to point out that people sometimes changed their stories.

  The server came back, and Sean went with him to settle up the check.

  Sara called Adam and was finishing up when Sean returned. She tucked her phone back into her purse. “He’s in.”

  “Of course he is.”

  Sara drank the rest of the water in her glass and looked around for the server. Their next stop was going to be the police station, and she wanted to be alert and—

  The server returned to their table with a takeout cup. “Your husband said you’d appreciate this.”

  She looked from Sean to the cup. She didn’t need to hold it to her nose—the intoxicating aroma of coffee was teasing her senses already. “Thank you.” And oh, how she meant it.

  -

  Chapter 6

  A PAIN IN THE GLUTEUS MAXIMUS

  Jimmy stomped his one foot down a little harder than necessary, but that’s exactly how he felt about turning around and going back inside the morgue—like a petulant child. He’d just gotten a teeny tiny whiff of freedom when Sean’s call had come through.

  He inhaled deeply, taking in the city air with its pollution and car exhaust. Carbon monoxide poisoning was somewhat more appealing than returning to the dungeon of Needham. After all, he’d just suffered the cantankerous medical examiner’s company for the last thirty minutes or so.

  The door to the morgue building swung open, and Vicki, who typically worked the front desk, was coming out. Jimmy had known her for many years. Many, many, if he were to admit to how old he was. That’s to say nothing for how he felt sometimes. Sara would try to convince him that the fifties were the new forty. Yeah, right!

  Jimmy butted his head inside. “He still in there?”

  “If you didn’t see him come out…” Vicki’s eyes sparkled.

  “Saucy, doll.” Jimmy winked at her. The two of them shared a love for classic movies and often talked to each other as if they were in one.

  “You know me.” Vicki pressed a cheek to a shoulder like a shy debutante. “Did you forget something?” Her voice turned serious now, and he detected empathy. She knew just how precarious the relationship was between him and Needham—though most people would rather have a tooth pulled than be around the man. Needham was definitely better suited to keeping company with the dead. They could suffer no further.

  “Not exactly, but I need to go back in and ask him about something else.”

  “Ouch.” She winced.

  “Yeah, ouch.” He was starting to break into a bit of a sweat just thinking about being around Needham again. He had a way about him that made Jimmy feel like he was “less than.” That feeling had only become stronger after he’d exchanged his rank as a police sergeant four years ago and became a licensed PI along with Sean and Sara.

  “Well, I wish you luck, fine sir.” She put on a southern accent and took off down the sidewalk.

  “I’ll need all the luck I can get.” With that, Jimmy went inside and spoke to Vicki’s substitute during her lunch hour. Her name was Susan, and she was in her twenties. A real bright thing but all business.

  “You have an appointment with Mr. Needham?” she inquired in a tone that set Jimmy’s teeth on edge.

  “I was just in with him and forgot something.” A lie, of course, but sometimes little white ones were in order.

  Susan narrowed her eyes. “I can call back there and have whatever it is brought up to you.”

  “I’d only be a minute. Please.” Now he played up his desperateness, using his age to his advantage. With any luck, he was pulling off a grandfather vibe, and who could say no to a grandfather figure?

  Susan waved him back. “Just be quick, please. Mr. Needham doesn’t like to be interrupted.”

  As he was walked toward the elevator to go downstairs, Susan picked up the phone. Her voice traveled down the small hall; she was warning Needham that he was coming.

  Deep breaths. It’s not like the man could actually hurt him. Not anything like the ache in his left knee today. But as he willed away the discomfort, he was reminded of all he had to be thankful for: Meredith, his loving girlfriend—though at his age, the label “girlfriend” sounded foolish—and the opportunity to work for Sean and Sara. They helped bring an old dog renewed purpose.

  He took the elevator into the bowels of the earth and took a deliberate step into the morgue, swinging the door wide…

  He jumped a foot.

  Needham was standing just inside, motionless and staring at him, arms crossed and wearing his trademark scowl. “Yes, Mr. Voigt, is there something else I can do for you today?”

  A question that, based on word value alone, could sound like an offer of assistance, but the person delivering the message gave it another slant. “I just have a question about a case.” Jimmy’s gaze roamed past Needham to his desk, where the sandwich he’d brought him had been taken out of its sheath of plastic wrap. Just great
, Jimmy thought, now I’ve interrupted his lunch.

  “Of course you do,” Needham stated drily and walked to his desk.

  Follow? Don’t follow?

  Jimmy swung his arms and eventually followed.

  Needham dropped into his chair and crossed his legs, his attention mostly on Jimmy, but his eyes kept darting to the sandwich.

  “You can go ahead and eat if you—”

  “I’m well aware of what I can do. I’m also aware you want to talk, and I assume you want me to respond. I don’t talk with my mouth full of food.”

  So you have some manners!

  “A woman died,” Jimmy started, “a couple of weeks ago and—”

  “You’ll have to be more specific than that.” Needham angled his head, regarding Jimmy impatiently.

  “As I was going to say—” Jimmy resisted the urge to add before you interrupted me “—her name was Katie Carpenter.”

  “What about her?”

  Jimmy mostly enjoyed what he did working for the PI firm, but moments with Needham had him dreaming about retirement. “Police have already closed the case, and the firm has taken on the investigation.”

  “By ‘the firm,’ you mean…”

  He knew well and good what Jimmy meant. It was just an opportunity for the ill-natured medical examiner to rub in the fact Jimmy didn’t have a badge anymore. “Pay It Forward Investigations, which I’m sure you knew when I referred to it as ‘the firm.’”

  Needham pursed his lips as if to say whatever.

  Jimmy barreled on. The sooner he asked his questions and got them answered, the faster he’d be out of there. “What was her cause of death?”

  “She drowned in the Hudson River.” Needham crossed his arms. “Anything else?”