“Socialize?” Natasha lifted an eyebrow as if the question baffled her. “You mean personally? I had lunch with him a few times in the juice bar to discuss fitness options and strategies.”
“And outside the gym.”
“Not really. Though JJ and I invited him to our club once or twice. We felt he’d vastly improved our tennis game. Speed and endurance,” she added with a smile. “And his focus on upper-body work seriously strengthened my backhand. He and JJ played golf now and then,” she added. “They’re both fanatics about golf.”
“Did you ever go to his apartment?”
“Why no. Why would I?”
Eve shifted her attention to the sister. Martella gave all hers to her drink. “Mrs. Schubert?”
“Yes? What?”
“Did you ever see Mr. Ziegler outside of the fitness center?”
“Oh, well . . . He came to the club. Tash, I’m going to ask Hester for another drink.”
“Mrs. Schubert?” Eve said, voice firm and flat.
“Yes?”
“How long were you sexually involved with Mr. Ziegler?”
“That’s a ridiculous question,” Natasha snapped out. “That’s incredibly rude. Tella, you don’t have to dignify that with a . . .” She trailed off after a look at her sister’s face. “Oh God. Martella!”
“It wasn’t like that! It wasn’t like that at all! I was going to tell you, Tash, I was just about to tell you, but then they came in. It was just one time. Well, two times, but on the same day. And it was weeks ago. Weeks and weeks.”
“I don’t think you should say any more.” Natasha put a restraining hand on her sister’s arm. “I don’t think my sister should say any more without legal representation.”
“That’s her choice. We’ll need you to come with us, Mrs. Schubert, into Central for further questioning. You’re free to call in your lawyer or legal representative.”
“But I don’t want to go with you.” Her voice cracked and her big blue eyes pleaded. “I don’t want that. Lance would find out. Tash, it was just that one time. Lance and I had that big fight. You remember. And he just left on that business trip even when I was so upset. Listen. Just listen.”
She took her sister’s drink, tossed back the contents.
“I told Trey all about it, about the fight, about how Lance just left while we were mad at each other. And he could see I was really upset. He said he’d come over to the house, give me a massage, help me relax and detox. So he did.”
“And sex was part of the service?” Eve asked.
“No! I never— It wasn’t supposed to be. I was upset and he was sympathetic, and caring. He even made me tea, started with some Reiki just to help me find my center, then he started the body massage and . . . it just sort of happened.”
“Twice?” Natasha said crisply.
“Yes. It was just . . . I was so relaxed, just drifting. I never felt so loose, and it was all so warm, and smelled so good with the incense.”
“Incense,” Eve murmured.
“And the tea was so nice.”
“What kind of tea?” Eve asked.
“Herbal tea. A special blend.”
“I bet. Mrs. Schubert. Martella. Look at me. Did you intend to sleep with Trey? Was it your intention or did you consider having sex with him before that incident?”
“No. No. I mean, he’s really great-looking, and that body is amazing. But no, I swear. I never even thought about it. I love my husband, I really, really do. It’s just I was so tense and upset, and he—Trey—didn’t have any openings for a massage or detox during working hours. He was doing me a favor by coming over, making a personal visit.”
“For how much?”
“Two thousand, but it was an in-home, personal treatment. Afterward, I got upset again. I’d cheated on my husband, but Trey said it wasn’t like that. It was just finding my balance, opening up and letting out the negative feelings, embracing the positive. Being all clear again, I could understand how much I loved Lance. And he was right. But Lance, he wouldn’t understand.”
“How much did you give him to be . . . discreet.”
“I added a thousand dollars as a personal thank-you, and we agreed we’d never think about it or speak about it. And I really didn’t, speak about it.”
“Did he ever offer you the tea again? Before or after that incident?”
“No. I don’t get massages from him anymore. It didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to—I just didn’t want him