up their own steps, but Casey’s as well. This class didn’t seem to be afraid of her. In fact, the crowd was even bigger than the last time, with mostly retirement-age women filling the rows. These were the ones who had met her in the hallway the day before, the fat leader defiantly stating that Andrea was probably killed by Cubans. Or the Mafia. Or the Cuban Mafia. The women gazed at her now with no sign of timidity, but with intensity, as if they were trying to read her soul. She thanked them for setting up her step, plugged in some music, and got things going without saying anything beyond the necessary. She turned her back to them and watched in the mirrored wall as they put their minds to exercise instead of scandal.
Sissy was absent. She had attended this class on Casey’s first day, but Casey imagined she had a lot to prepare, with Andrea’s family coming, and all. She’d be going over paperwork, and talking with the police, and who knew what all legal matters the Flamingo was liable for. Casey didn’t want to even think about that.
But as Casey moved and encouraged and sweated, her brain was moving even faster about other things, such as her own predicament, and what had just happened in her office.
Why in the world would Binns come to her for information about people she barely knew? Did Binns really believe that first impressions stuff? Or was that just an excuse to study Casey at closer range? She obviously didn’t believe Casey was who she said she was. Why else would she have asked those pointed questions about her past? Just the implications of what that could mean made Casey stumble on her step. She righted herself, and forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing.
For a few minutes.
Maybe she should just leave. Throw away Daisy Gray and start over. She hated to do it, for a lot of reasons, but maybe it was the best option.
No.
If she took off now she’d not only have the Ohio cops after her, but the Florida ones, too. At least the Florida ones said they didn’t suspect her. And she wasn’t behind bars yet. She pounded the step as she jumped. Could nothing be easy? Did she not deserve even one week of peace?
Another thought struck her. Was there any way they’d be able to connect her fingerprints from the locker room with the murder of that thug in Ohio? Or her DNA? Oh, God, she hoped not. She couldn’t imagine it, but it was within the realm of possibility. She’d bled during that street fight, and knew she’d touched the car that had been sitting there. Had the forensic team been so thorough that her information was just sitting there in storage, waiting for them to connect the dots?
The music changed, and she realized it was time to cool down. She sent the women to their mats for a few minutes of abs work. The women grunted and groaned, and some simply collapsed onto their backs, completely done in.
“This is terrible,” one woman moaned. “Brandon never worked us this hard.”
Another one giggled. “Sure he did. And he worked some of us just as hard in other ways, too.”
A smattering of laughter flew through room. One woman stopped her sit-ups and rested on an elbow, looking across the sea of bodies. “Bernie could tell us about that, couldn’t you, Bern?”
Bernie, who apparently was the smallish, darkly-tanned, heavily dyed woman on the far left side of the room, didn’t answer, but closed her eyes and counted out loud as she crunched.
“Bernie knows more about Brandon’s work out sessions that any of the rest of us.” It was the smarmy woman talking now, the big one who had led the group yesterday in the hallway, her eyes flashing with eagerness at the excitement of it all. “I believe some of those sessions were held in Bernie’s condo, rather than here in the aerobics room. Weren’t they, Bernie?”
The poor woman’s dark tan was now a dark red, whether from embarrassment or exercise, or a combination of both, Casey wasn’t sure. Her breath was coming in gulps.
“Okay, ladies.” Casey clapped her hands. “A little more stretching, then you’re good to go.”
After the last deep breath holding their arms upward, the women broke formation. Bernie shot out of the room so fast Death made a show of dodging her, arms flailing.
“So, is there anything new about the investigation?”