bench, and ran his towel around his neck. “Could be. But it could also be that you’re spending way too much money buying her jewelry. Or taking her rock climbing. Or doing whatever else she’s convinced you to do.”
“She’s got power,” Casey said.
Dylan gestured to the heavy weights he’d just used. “You think these are hard work? Nothing compared to Krystal.” He shrugged, stretching his back. “But she’s worth it.”
The door opened and an older man came into the room. He scanned the area, and caught Casey’s eye. She held up a finger to say she’d be right with him. “Okay, Dylan, cardio of your choice.”
“Elliptical,” they said together.
“At least twenty minutes.”
“I usually go thirty.”
“Good. Check in with me before you head out, okay?”
He held up a fist, and she studied it for a second before bumping it with her own.
“You’re okay,” Dylan said.
“Gee, thanks.”
He grinned, and headed toward his machine.
Casey watched him go, shook her head, and went to meet her next client.
“From the cradle to the grave,” Death said.
She gave Death a startled glance. Death wore a weight belt, gloves, shorts, and a muscle shirt, along with a nice pair of Chuck Taylors. “What are you talking about?”
“Dylan. He’s a mere babe, and your next guy, not so much.”
Death was right. Her next client was eighty-two, and rather than talk about Andrea—and certainly not Krystal, for fear of a heart attack—Casey spent all of her energy trying to keep him from doing more than he should. She felt a surge of sympathy toward Richie, the fitness instructor two before her. If he hadn’t stayed firm with people like her present client, it was no wonder people were getting injured. By the time her guy was on the recumbent bike Casey thought she was going to collapse from the strain.
“I’m outta here.” Dylan stood beside her, sweaty and so very young. “You know, you don’t look so good.”
Casey raised her eyebrows. “In what way?”
“In a way like you might keel over. Need help getting up to your room?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.
Casey laughed. “I think I can make it. Thanks.”
“Another time, then.”
“Oh, will there be a time I’m not old enough to be your mother?”
“You’re not.”
“Baby-sitter, then.”
He studied her. “I guess you are. But who cares these days? Anyway, it’s all over Cougarville in the Flamingo.”
“Really? You have older women after you?”
“All the time, baby. And let me tell you, older women—as long as they’re not too old—can teach a boy like me a few tricks.”
Casey shook her head, trying not to laugh again. “You’re awful.”
“But sexy.”
“Get out of here.”
He dodged the towel she threw at him, then picked it up and tossed it back. “See you in a couple days, hottie.” He sauntered away, chuckling.
“Now that boy needs a real woman.” Death stared after Dylan.
“Well, it’s not going to be me.”
“No, you’d rather have that pretty Officer Gomez who brought us back last night.”
Casey went hot. “I’d rather have nobody.”
“Oh, come on. Reuben might be dead, but like it or not, you’re still here, with all your female parts working. I thought Eric taught you that a couple weeks ago. I seem to remember some sweating, and some clothes coming off.”
Casey hastily threw her towel in the laundry bin and said hello to the woman who stood beside the shelves of clean linen, folding and stacking. What was her name? Rosa? Rosa’s nose was red, and her eyes bloodshot. Casey stopped. She didn’t know enough Spanish to have a meaningful conversation, but she hated to just walk by a grieving woman.
“Andrea?” she said quietly.
Rosa let go with a sob, and pressed her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Casey said. “She was your friend? Amiga?”
Rosa nodded. “Yes. She was…nice lady.”
“Yes,” Casey said. “Si.” She patted Rosa’s arm, and continued into the hallway. The crime scene tape was still draped across the doorway of the aerobics room, although she could see no sign of activity inside. A couple of women in workout clothes lingered in the hallway, trying to see through the glass in the door, but Sissy was not among them.
“Is it true?” A middle-aged woman in clothes too tight for her extra padding grabbed Casey’s arm.
Casey extricated herself from the woman’s claws. “Depends what you heard.”
“That a crazy man broke in and attacked some women last night. That one of them died, and the rest are still in the hospital.” Her chin quivered, and the rest of the group pushed forward, waiting for Casey’s answer.