He released her hand. Cindy stared at him but said nothing.
Quietly, Eric said, 'I probably should have warned you. I'm used to people who know the routine. You want to try again?'
'I would really feel more comfortable if this was being done by a girl.'
'Get used to guys, Cindy. 'Bout ninety-eight per cent of our clientele is guys. And just for your info, 'bout a third of them are gay. They don't give a shit what's between your legs. Like I said, to a dedicated builder, it's all muscle.'
'Are you gay?' Cindy asked.
'No,' Eric answered. 'But I'll say yes if it'll make you feel better. Will you relax?'
'It's difficult.'
'Just go with the flow. Lift your arms up.'
Cindy wondered if Marge had ever been in a situation like this. Of all the dumb things she'd ever tried to pull off, this had to be one of the dumbest. But she was here already. She lifted her arms.
Again, Eric snaked his massive limbs around her body. Each arm must have weighed fifty pounds. Again, she felt
his hands on her breasts and involuntarily flinched. 'Just take it easy,' Eric said. 'You're doing fine.' After a moment, it was clear to Cindy that Eric was telling the truth. He was feeling her breasts, but it wasn't sexual.
'See... right there,' Eric stated. 'That's where the fat of your tits ends and where your underlying pecs are. Did you ever do lifting before, Cindy?'
'No.'
'You've got good raw material.' He let go of her breasts, then measured her across her bust. It took him twenty minutes to finish charting her body, recording the inches of her waist and hips and thighs. When he was done, he said, 'Good raw material. I'd like to take you through the first month myself. You want to set up some dates?'
'Can I call you on it?'
Eric gave her a disgusted look. 'Are you committed or what?'
'How should I know?' Cindy placed her hands on her hips and stared at the entrance. Just then a woman walked through the door. She was absolutely gorgeous - perfect skin, sleek black hair and black eyes as luminous as obsidian. She was wearing a black lace body stocking, filling it out in all the right places. Cindy turned to Eric and said, 'Can you turn me into her?'
Eric let out a deep laugh. 'Tandy's certainly an example of everything that can go right.'
'Tandy?'
'That's her name. She was over two-fifty when she first walked through the door.'
Cindy eyes widened. 'What?'
'No lie. I'll introduce you.'
Cindy watched Eric duck-waddle to Tandy. He threw his arm around her lithe shoulder, leading her over to
Cindy. He said, 'Hey, Roberts, come and meet the new kid on the block.'
Cindy suddenly felt her heart race. This was the whole reason she was there, and now that she was face-to-face with Tandy, she had no idea what to do. She looked up at Eric as if he had the answer. All he had was a goofy grin on his face. With a deliberate motion, Tandy sidled up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her fingers were long and delicate, but the nails were clipped short. She didn't just rest her hand on his muscle, she kneaded it. Then she offered her hand to Cindy.
'Tandy Roberts.'
'Cindy.' Her answer had an odd rhythm because she didn't state her last name. Just in case Marge had given her Dad's business card. She felt her face go hot.
'Your hands are sweaty,' Tandy said.
'I'm nervous.'
Tandy laughed. 'Why?'
'I don't know. Don't you get nervous when you're in a strange environment?'
'I used to..." Tandy's dark eyes peered into Cindy's. 'But I don't anymore.'
'It's great to have that kind of self-confidence.'
'I owe it all to building. It's given me control over my life.' Tandy turned to Eric. 'Did you work out a routine for her yet?'
'I've just finished measuring her. She's got potential. Lots of raw material.'
'Potential, huh?' Tandy's smile was secretive as she walked over to the weight rack. 'So let's start with something a little bit more challenging.'
Lifting a fifteen-pound weight from the rack, Tandy sat on the bench. She supported her right arm by resting the elbow on top of her left hand. She extended her right arm downward until it was straight, then slowly brought the
weight up to her shoulder by bending at the elbow. 'That's called a curl... an arm curl. See?'
Cindy nodded, watching Tandy's bicep bunch as she curled the weight again. 'Do you want to try it?' Tandy asked. 'Sure.'
'Come sit. Remember to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground. Don't use your back when you lift. And breathe normally.'
'You're not giving her a fifteen-pounder,' Eric said.
'You said she had potential.'
'Stop teasing her, Roberts. Give her a three-kilo. If that's too easy, give her a five.'
'I'll try the fifteen,' Cindy said.
'It's too heavy for you,' Eric stated. 'You might hurt yourself, and that would be really dumb.'
Cindy thought a moment. If she didn't try it, she knew she'd lose Tandy's dare and respect. The idea was to get close enough to talk to her - woman to woman. She said, 'I'll be careful. And if I fail, big deal. I don't mind looking like an idiot.'
Eric said, 'Tandy's just being evil.'
Tandy laughed. But Cindy knew where the truth lay. 'You said the idea was to get mean.' She glared at Tandy. 'Give it here.'
With a slight smirk, Tandy handed it over to her. Then she added, 'Really. Watch your back.'
The weight was heavy, Cindy thought, but didn't seem unmanageable.
'Breathe out first,' Eric said.
'What?'
'Exhale, Cindy.' Tandy blew out air forcefully. 'Then inhale. While you're lifting, you exhale again. You always exhale on the exertion, okay? Like this.'
Cindy watched the perfect breasts heave as Tandy
demonstrated the curl. Eric was hypnotized and Cindy understood why. The woman was exotic, as captivating as a black widow. When she was done, she handed the weight to Cindy.
'Your turn.'
Cindy shrugged. 'Here goes nothing.'
Slowly, she brought the weight upward, her muscles feeling a sizable tug as the dumbbell neared her shoulder. Carefully, she brought the weight back down, then curled it two more times. By the time she was done, she was surprised how sweaty she had become. She was also shocked by how good she felt, despite the strain in her arm. 'I think that's it guys.' She placed the weight on the floor and massaged her overworked arm. Looking at Tandy and Eric, she thought they seemed stunned.
'What's wrong?"
'Nothing.' Eric smiled. 'See, Roberts, I told you she had good raw material.'
'I did well?'
Eric's smile widened to a grin. 'Don't let it go to your brain, Cindy. Even though you have the potential, you're still a sack of fat.'
'Nothing like a backhanded compliment to massage the ego.' Cindy's eyes fell on Tandy and she remembered why she was here. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. 'Would you mind working with me? Even if it's just for today. I told Eric that I'd really prefer working with a woman. I guess I'm a little shy.'
'That's not good,' Eric chastised.
'One thing at a time, okay, Eric?'
He-man smiled. 'Up to you, Fat Sack.'
'Oh, go stuff it!'
'Now, that's more like it!' Eric stated. 'Got to get mean, Cindy. Only way to reach your full potential.
Lifting is not a game. It's a commitment, and it's not for wimps.'
'I'll keep that in mind, Eric' Cindy laughed. 'Do you mind helping me out, Tandy?'
Tandy looked down, then up. 'Hey, it'd be my pleasure. I'm impressed.'
Cindy studied Tandy's face. She really did look impressed. Impressed and mean.
Marge tossed the magazine in the passenger seat of the Beemer and was ready to start the car. But Tandy wasn't walking toward her Audi. Instead, she was chatting animatedly with a redhead, the two women crossing the street in the direction of the juice b
ar. Quickly, Marge picked up her binoculars and began focusing on the moving figures. Then her hands began to shake. In shock, she lowered the glasses to her lap and tried to unscramble her thoughts.
If Marge didn't intercede, Pete would strangle her as well as Cindy. But if she did intercede, it would blow the tail, putting Tandy wise to their suspicions. But Tandy was being watched as a suspect in a kidnapping-murder; she could be dangerous. How could Marge, in good conscience, allow Cindy to remain in the presence of this woman?
Of course, she and Decker had no evidence that pointed to Tandy's involvement. But Roberts was a nutcase. Marge knew that by letting Cindy proceed, she could be endangering the teenager's life.
Marge swore out loud. Decker's kid must have gotten a taste of excitement, and the adrenaline had kicked in. Teenagers - pains in the butt. The shy ones got eaten alive, and the bold ones believed they were immortal. Pete wouldn't be the only one who'd have a few choice words to say to Cindy, What to do! What to do!
The girls had gone inside the juice bar. Marge could
either put a stop to it now or wait. Again she cursed, trying to be rational and careful at the same time. After a minute of conflict, pros and cons competing for brain space, Marge finally decided to cool her heels. She could see the entrance to the bar as well as the Audi. Tandy couldn't escape without Marge detecting her getaway.
Let the ladies have their chat. Afterward, when they went their separate ways, when Marge was calm, she would have a long, long talk with Cindy.
But the decision gnawed at her gut. What if Tandy went crazy?
Marge could see the screaming headlines:
MASS MURDER IN JUICE BAR: PEOPLE DIE AS COP LOOKS ON.
Subtitle: Victim daughter of cop's partner.
Forced to resign in humiliation, Marge would spend the rest of her life as a security guard in a mall - guarding teenagers!
She shook exaggeration from her thoughts. Passing seconds seemed like hours. Eyes darting back and forth, Marge felt the tension of every muscle in her body. She thought, Why should Pete have the honor of killing Cindy? The pleasure should be exclusively hers.
Darlene Jamison lived on the ground floor of a two-storeyed beige-stucco apartment. Each unit had an individual entrance and Darlene's was located on the left side. Decker knocked on the door and waited. He had to knock again before Darlene answered the door. The petite woman was swallowed up by a tentlike algae-green smock that approximated the color of the place's swimming pool. Her hair was tied back, her round face mottled and doughy. She stepped backward, allowing
him to come inside the small living room. 'I'm on the phone. Take a seat. I'll be off in a minute.' The nurse disappeared behind a closed door, and Decker walked around the generic apartment living room - shagged brown carpet and white walls. A six-foot sofa provided the seating for the area. It was upholstered in brown-and-white striped fabric and had brown naugahyde strips around the couch's sides for decoration. Facing the sofa, against the wall, was a sixteen-inch color TV on a metal stand.
The back end of the living room bled into a dining area filled with a Formica-topped round table and four chairs. To the right was the kitchen, stocked with a freestanding stove and fridge, but it did have a built-in dishwasher. A home-made installation job, judging from the carpentry that surrounded it. On the wall were samplers: Busy Hands Are Happy Hands done in ornate embroidery scroll. He didn't have time to read the others, because Darlene had returned. She sat down on the sofa and clutched her hands together.
'Have a seat.'
Thankyou.' Decker sat down on the opposite end of the couch and pulled out his notebook. 'I just finished speaking to Lily Booker's mother. I'm not in a very good mood. Let's both try to be as cooperative as possible.'
'Lily's mother?' Darlene sounded hopeful. 'So Lily is with her mother!'
'No, Darlene,' Decker said. 'Lily is not with her mother. There's a possibility that Lily might be the body we found in Marie's burned-out Honda. I had to ask Mrs Booker for her daughter's dental X-rays to see if they match the teeth of the body.' He shuddered, rehearing the woman's sobs, then looked at Darlene. She seemed stunned, her eyes watering.
'I can't believe... Are you saying... are you sureV
'I'm not sure of anything yet.' Decker's eyes went to the blank page of his notebook. He wrote down Darlene's name and the time and date. 'When was Lily Booker supposed to show up for work?'
Darlene didn't answer, her eyes moist and glazed. The mottled face had turned ashen. She looked ill.
'Darlene, do you need a drink of water?'
Slowly, Darlene shook her head. 'What about the baby?'
'We're still searching.'
Darlene gazed at the wall. 'If what you say is true, then I'm responsible...'
'Responsible for what?'
Again, Darlene was silent. Decker said, 'Darlene, when was Lily supposed to show up for work? I'm trying to get a time frame. I need your help.'
Finally, Darlene whispered, 'Lily showed up for work around eleven.'
Decker jerked his head upward. 'Come again?'
'Lily's shift started at eleven.'
'She showed up for work?'
'Yes.'
'Then why did you tell me she called in sick?'
'Could you stop yelling?'
'Just answer the question, Darlene. On the phone this morning, you told me that Lily Booker called in sick.'
'I was protecting her.'
'From what?'
'I didn't want her to get into trouble for leaving early. Especially since Marie told me she had been called away for a family crisis. I didn't think it was fair to involve—'
'Wait, wait, wait!' Decker realized he was shouting and lowered his voice. 'I'm confused. Start from the beginning.'
'Oh, Sergeant!' Darlene burst into tears. 'I really
messed up this time!' She buried her face in her hands and sobbed openly.
Decker leaned back on the sofa and ran his hand over his face. He waited until the weeping subsided, then said, 'Darlene, when did Lily show up for work?'
Darlene dried her eyes with a tissue. 'At the beginning of her shift. She showed up at eleven.'
'So Lily came to work?'
'Yes.'
'And you didn't tell anyone who questioned you about that, did you? Because you were protecting her.'
'Yes, I didn't see the point of getting her involved if she wasn't even there.'
'But she was there, Darlene. She may have been involved. Or she may have been a victim. Either way, you should have let us know everything. We could have been looking for her. We should have been looking for her!'
Darlene's face crumpled. 'Yes, I know.' The sobs came back. 'I'm sorry I messed up! You maybe could have found her. And I didn't tell you, so you didn't even know. In my own way, I'm responsible for that girl's death!'
Darlene rushed out of the living room and slammed the door to the bedroom. Decker followed, afraid of what the nurse might be contemplating. He found her on her bed, weeping into her eyelet-trimmed pillow. Chewing on his mustache, he wondered how Rina was doing. She'd seemed okay when he left this morning, but she was so fragile right now. Just like this sobbing woman. Decker's focus fell upon Darlene. He felt her pain. She'd been trying to protect her trainee and she'd fucked up.
'Darlene, everyone makes mistakes. To equate your mistake with murder is absurd. Let's work together. Let's find the bastard or bastards who might have hurt Lily or the baby. I want to get them before they can hurt again. But I need your help.'
Darlene cried out, 'I don't deserve to be a nurse! Nurses help people, not put them in danger!'
'You help people. You're going to help me. Now I want you to focus in on that horrible day. I need a time frame if I'm going to figure out what happened. Stop your crying and concentrateV
Still sniffling, Darlene sat up, eyes crimson and swollen. 'We should go back and talk in the living room.'
Faye Kellerman - Decker 06 - Grievous Sin Page 29
