the rule. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t like that he hit on me—subtly, but unmistakably. Maybe someone else would have taken his offer of a free trial as a trainer as a courtesy, or a way to drum up business, but to me, it felt too . . . suggestive. I can’t say he crossed any lines, but he brushed awfully close to them—for me. And when he brushed too close for my personal comfort, I told him to piss off.”
“You’re direct.”
Catiana smiled. “I can be. I tried to be both firm and discreet, but I thought I should tell you in case I wasn’t as discreet as I assumed. He didn’t like my reaction, and when one of the women I often took a class with asked me out—and my reaction was surprise, she was embarrassed, and told me the word was I preferred women. It happens I don’t, and it was easy to trace the rumor’s source.”
“To Ziegler.”
“Yes. I let it go. It didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t looking to start any sort of romantic or sexual relationship at my gym, so it didn’t matter. And he left me alone. I assume he believed the only reason I turned him down was because I was inclined toward women. But then . . .”
She trailed off as Martella and her husband came in.
“I don’t want to hold you up. Can I get you anything before I go?” she asked Martella.
“Why don’t you finish it off?” Eve looked at Catiana, then her employers. “Any problem with that?”
“You’re telling her?” Martella asked. “You should tell her all of it. Tell her, Cate.”
“All right, thanks. I’d rather finish it off. I wouldn’t have thought anything—or not much of anything of it, Lieutenant, but after . . . In brief, a couple weeks ago the man I’ve been seeing for a while stopped by the gym. I was meeting him for breakfast between class and work, but he came in just as I was coming out of the locker room. I guess it was obvious we’re involved as several people asked me about him the next time I went in.”
“They’re still at the glow stage,” Martella said. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s still new,” Catiana said. “I had a massage booked that week, end of the day, with my usual therapist. But when they called me out of the relaxation room into the massage room, Ziegler was there. He said Lola—my usual—wasn’t available, so he was doing my massage. He offered me some tea. I declined, and I said I’d reschedule.”
“Why?”
“Bottom line?” She moved her shoulders in an elegant sort of shrug. “I didn’t want his hands on me, it was as simple as that. So I walked out, got dressed, went home. That was a couple days before he was killed. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, just an annoyance, but . . .”
“I told her everything.” Martella groped for her husband’s hand. “I told Catiana and Lance everything about what happened, about what you found out. About . . . He was going to do it to her. You said when you contacted me this morning, he’d put something in the tea.”
Lance Schubert, just as striking as his wedding photo, drew his wife close to his side. His eyes, hard as stone, held Eve’s. “That’s rape. It’s no different from sexual assault.”
“No, it’s not,” Eve said.
“If he hadn’t made my skin crawl—and it was as simple and as visceral as that—I’d have gone ahead with the massage.”
Catiana rubbed her arms, then sighed, leaned in a little when Lance put an arm around her in turn.
“I’d have tried the tea. When Martella told me, I realized he wasn’t just annoying, wasn’t just someone who made me feel uncomfortable. He was a predator. I don’t want to get in the way of what you’re here to talk about, but I thought I should tell you.”
“I appreciate that you did. It was his pattern, and your instincts were good. Walking out kept you from being another victim.”
“I didn’t walk out. I let him in. I’m so sorry, Lance.”
“Stop.” He angled to press his lips to Martella’s hair. “Stop.”
“I’ll leave you to talk,” Catiana began.
“Stay, please. Can she stay?” Martella asked Eve. “I’ve told her all of it, then she told me. It helps a little.”
“It’s up to you.”
“Why don’t we sit? Let’s all sit down.” Lance led his wife to the sofa, kept her hand in his.