Exercise Is Murder

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Lucy said bashfully.

  “Not a problem at all. As I said, I have an opportunity for you.”

  The two of them found a quiet spot in a corner.

  “What sort of opportunity could you have for me?” Lucy asked, barely above a whisper.

  “You might have heard that our last spokeswoman died a couple weeks ago,” Sara started.

  “Katie Carpenter, yes.” Lucy took a draw on her wine.

  “Well, we’re looking for someone to replace her.”

  Lucy’s eyes met Sara’s. “Are you’re looking at me?” The hint of a smile.

  Sara nodded with enthusiasm.

  “Eek, well, I’d be honored.”

  “You’ll be more than honored, darling. We’ll put a chunk of change in your wallet.” Sara winked and put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

  “How much…” Lucy cleared her throat. “How much are we talking about?”

  “A quarter mil—”

  Lucy squeezed Sara’s arm and leaned in, her cheeks flushed. “Two hundred fifty thousand?”

  “That’s a quarter-mil.” Sara grinned.

  “Omigod.” Lucy fanned her face with her purse. “Wow. But how long is the contract? What’s all involved?”

  “It would be for two years.”

  “Whoa.”

  “That’s right. A chunk o’ change.” Sara let her big smile fade in increments. “The only thing is you’re not the only one up for the job— Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Lucy put a hand on Sara’s forearm. “No, please. It’s fine. Who else, can you tell me?”

  “I could, but I probably shouldn’t.” Sara made a show of looking around the room. “Considering that person’s here tonight.”

  “Who? Please tell me.”

  “Well, I really shouldn’t.”

  “Okay.” Lucy backed down and took another couple sips of wine.

  “Well, all right. Since I know you’ll keep this to yourself… You will keep it to yourself?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  Sara leaned in and whispered in Lucy’s ear. “Nicki Player.”

  “Nik—”

  “Shh.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Remember, not a word to anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Now, we need to know real quick if you’re going to take us up on our offer. As you can probably appreciate, with the Mohawk Hudson River Marathon coming up in two weeks, we’ll we want our new spokeswoman ready, front and center at our booth.”

  “Of course. When do you need to know?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning, by nine.” That was the deadline Sara had referred to in the car with Sean, and since it was so tight, they hoped it would squeeze out a killer. “Can you let me know by then?”

  “I can let you know now. I’m interested.” Lucy beamed.

  Sara’s gaze cut across the room and settled on Sean, who was now buddying up to Nicki. “I see that weasel’s already talking to Nicki Player.” She pointed it out to Lucy. “But he’s under the same instructions I am. No moving forward until tomorrow morning.”

  “You have my number…to reach me? You said you’d call?”

  “I have it.” With that, Sara walked off as if Iva had lost all interest in Lucy.

  -

  Chapter 30

  BREAKING A SWEAT

  Sean was behind the wheel of the rented sedan with Sara in the passenger seat. They waited in the lot after the event ended, keeping an eye out for Nicki and Lucy to leave. Jimmy was also in the lot. They would split and tail both women. Jimmy would follow Nicki, and he and Sara would stick with Lucy.

  “How did it go with Nicki?” Sara asked.

  “Just like it went for you with Lucy, by the sounds of it. Nicki’s definitely interested. Gushing.” He looked over and smiled at Sara.

  “I just hope we haven’t taken this too far. If we’re not careful, and one of them is a killer—”

  Sean put a reassuring hand on his wife’s. “That’s why we’re watching them.”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t sure how much he’d soothed her. He refused to think about this going sideways.

  It was going on ten o’clock at night, and neither woman had yet come out of the school. Sean sat up straighter when he caught sight of Lucy hustling toward her car. Nicki wasn’t far behind with Mitch, and they got into his vehicle.

  “Here goes,” Sean said, easing their sedan out of the lot, close to Lucy’s.

  “You need to put some space between us,” Sara cautioned.

  “Trust me.”

  As they entered the street, Sean pulled back and let a minivan get in front of them. They followed Lucy back to her house.

  Sean dialed Jimmy. “Anything exciting happening on your end?”

  “Nothing yet. Mitch just dropped Nicki off at her apartment.”

  “Okay, well, keep a close eye on Nicki’s movements.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” Jimmy hung up.

  Sean and Sara watched Lucy go inside her house. Lights came on in the entrance, and the one on the front step was turned off.

  “Doesn’t look like she has any plans for going out again tonight.”

  “Now we sit and wait.” He loved undercover operations, but stakeouts…not so much.

  They talked little as the hours stretched on, and nothing was happening. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he saw a shadow creeping up Lucy’s driveway.

  “Sara,” he nudged her and found she had fallen asleep. “Look.”

  “Oh, no. Nicki is the killer.”

  Sean called Jimmy. “Your girl’s here. How did you miss that?”

  “No, she’s not. I’ve got an eye on the front of her apartment building, and I can see her car from where I am. Whatever you do, be careful. No one dies today.” Jimmy offered up a familiar caveat from Sean’s days on the force working under him.

  “Don’t plan on it.”

  “Sean, if that’s not Nicki, who is it?” Sara looked from Lucy’s house to Sean.

  “Time to find out.” He ended the call with Jimmy and reached for the door handle. Sara put a hand out to stop him.

  “Jimmy’s right, we have to be careful. This person has killed before.”

  “Good reminder.” Sean opened the glove compartment and took out a gun.

  “No, I don’t like—”

  “Darling, I know you’re not a fan of guns, but just as backup.” He stared her in the eyes until she consented with a small nod. “I’ll only pull it out if necessary.”

  “Fine.”

  They got out of the car and walked cautiously across the street. The figure had gone up the side of Lucy’s house, the beam of a flashlight dancing on the shrubs.

  “Not exactly a pro at this, are they?” Sean said quietly to Sara.

  “Doesn’t seem so.”

  Sean didn’t say it out loud, but maybe that fact would work in their favor. They followed the person with the flashlight around the back. The darkness of night made it impossible to tell whether it was a man or woman. Pale light pooled from a small window in the rear.

  The person—all dressed in black—stopped outside a back patio door and pressed their nose to the glass. It would be a good time to make a move.

  Sean sprung onto the deck and wrestled the figure from behind. The person squirmed and fought back harder than Sean had anticipated.

  The would-be-intruder-slash-murderer broke free of Sean’s grip and spun, arm raised in the air, about to punch Sean.

  Sara screamed, and the outside light came on. Lucy’s face was a mask of horror in the windowpane.

  Sean somehow managed to grasp all
this while he averted blows intended for his head. Sean finally managed to kick the intruder’s legs from under them, sending them crashing to the deck, but continued to hold them by their shoulder. Looking up at him, in the light, was someone Sean had only seen in pictures.

  “Mitch Yates?” Sean croaked out.

  Mitch shrugged Sean off him but stayed seated on the deck boards. “Who were you expecting?”

  “To be honest…Nicki.” Sean trusted Jimmy, but there was always the possibility that she had snuck out of her apartment without Jimmy seeing.

  “Why would you think it would be Nicki?” Mitch spat.

  The patio door slid open, and Lucy stepped out in pajama bottoms, a cotton shirt, and a bright pink sweater. She looked from Sean to Sara.

  “Iva? What…what are…”

  Iva? Right, they were still in their undercover getups. Sean’s gaze fixed on the pink sweater…the same shade of fabric from the hillside. But that was understandable—right? Lucy had said she went down to check on Katie. She could have snagged her sweater then and not realized it as she was otherwise preoccupied. Sean wasn’t seeing any tear on the sweater, though.

  “I’m sorry for the deceit, Lucy,” Sara said walking toward her. “It’s Sara and Sean McKinley.”

  “Private investigators,” Sean added for Mitch’s benefit, “and you, sir, are going down for murder.”

  “You can’t prove anything!”

  “I bet if we look hard enough, we can. The police can start with charges of trespassing.” Sean was still unsure how Mitch tied into the forensic evidence in Katie’s case.

  Lucy gripped at the fabric of her top, her gaze on Mitch. “Murder? Were you…were you… You were going to…to kill me?”

  “I’m not saying a word until I get a lawyer.”

  “Good thing we’re not cops, then,” Sean hissed.

  “You’re still not going to get me to talk.”

  “Why did you kill Katie?” Sara asked. “Because she wouldn’t leave Levi?”

  Sara must have been setting Mitch up to trip himself. The only reason Mitch would have to be here would be related to their staged spokeswoman position. And that would mean… “You did it for Nicki, and now you’re here to take out her competition…again.”

  “What? No.” His eyes ever so briefly darted to Lucy.

  “Oh. I get what’s going on.” Sean stepped back, motioned for Sara to move with him, which she did.

  “Whatever,” Mitch huffed.

  “You and Lucy worked together. Mitch, you pushed Katie over the hill, moved her to the Hudson where you—” Sean looked at Lucy “—proceeded to hold her face under until she drowned. You untied her lace to make it look like an accident. And Mitch, you weren’t coming here to kill Lucy.”

  “Nope,” Sara cut in. “Mitch was coming here to consult with his partner in crime. Guess you were just using Nicki to get close to Katie. And were you going to kill Nicki?” Sara sounded utterly horrified.

  “You can’t prove any of this ridiculous rubbish,” Lucy stated calmly.

  “Actually we can.” Sara’s tone mirrored Lucy’s. “The person who held her under left their palm prints. My guess is they’re yours.”

  Lucy wrapped the sweater tighter around herself, and there it was—the hole. Sean pointed it out.

  “You caught your sweater on a twig running down the hill in your hurry to finish Katie off.”

  Mitch held up his hands, smirked. “I told you, I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Mitch!” Lucy roared.

  “You told them I was Katie’s boyfriend. You brought them to my door. And I made Nicki lie to protect me.”

  “Don’t pretend you care about her,” Lucy snapped back.

  “They don’t have any proof on me, Lucy, but they do on you. You should get yourself a good lawyer.”

  “You arrogant—” Lucy stomped a foot and thrust a pointed finger at Mitch. “It was his idea to kill her, to sleep with her. He said, ‘Once a fatty, always a fatty.’ He told me once he was finished with her, she’d be sorry for all she did to me.”

  So Lucy had been the other woman all along, not Nicki. And Nicki had broken down with Sara, not because she was sleeping with Mitch, but because she let Katie down by protecting him, by lying about his whereabouts at the time of Katie’s death. Lucy and Mitch knew it would be too dangerous to alibi each other out.

  “What now?” Mitch sighed.

  Sean took a long look at Mitch, at his dark clothing, factoring in the flashlight. “Why were you skulking around here in the dark dressed like that?”

  “You have to ask? I didn’t know if Lucy was being watched. It turned out she was. I never should have come,” Mitch mumbled and shot a scolding look at Lucy.

  “Uh-huh, and as for ‘what now,’ Mitch? Both of you are going to jail.” Sean moved in to cuff Mitch, and Sara took Lucy.

  Sean just hoped something solid would turn up to keep Mitch behind bars.

  -

  Chapter 31

  REAPING THE REWARDS

  Waiting for the Albany PD to show up at Lucy’s house had been emotionally taxing for Sara. She kept thinking that Katie’s focus on health and fitness—and excelling in that arena—had essentially spelled her doom. Of course, a six-figure spokeswoman contract hadn’t hurt.

  Last night’s sleep had been restless for Sara as she kept replaying the moment when she’d asked Nicki if Mitch had been with her the morning of Katie’s death. In reflection, Nicki hadn’t answered; she’d cried, distracting Sara with hysterics, and Sara had taken it as confirmation of Mitch’s alibi. And who knew how far Mitch took the charade with Nicki, dressed up like he was going on a date, showing up at her door. It would seem like Mitch might care for Nicki, but not the same way she did for him. Poor Nicki was cursed with the same affliction as Chandra: they cared about men who would only let them down.

  Adam had come through that morning with pictures he’d managed to dig up online. They were of a prom king and queen, Mitch and Lucy, posing in the high school’s gymnasium. Mitch had been the football player, and Lucy his favored cheerleader.

  Now, she and Sean were at the firm in the conference room with Mirela.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Mirela said.

  Sara smiled. “We’re just happy that we were able to put things in motion.”

  Lucy confessed to holding Katie’s head under and told police that Mitch had waited behind a bush for Katie. It was curious exactly when Lucy had ripped her sweater. Was she lying about Mitch and pushed Katie herself, then followed her down? Lucy said it happened when she traversed the ravine to the riverbank where she hung out until Katie “was incoming.” Thankfully the elements hadn’t washed away all the DNA from the sunflower-seed husks, and it would be compared to Lucy’s and Mitch’s. Somehow, someway, the truth would come out—it always did. But Sara would wager Mitch was guilty. That suspicion was aided further by the fact that the police found Katie’s MP3 player in his duplex. Of course, he was claiming that Lucy had gifted it to him, but that defense was weak. The MP3 player was circumstantial evidence, and cases had been won on less.

  As for Detective Roland Langstaff, he was far too happy to swoop in and mop up the credit, claiming, “I knew it all along.”

  Sara continued. “The matter’s back with the police now, and the case is strong. Neither of those two will be back on the streets anytime soon.”

  “That’s good to hear. Katie was such a lovely girl. Always happy, always had a way of lighting up a room.”

  “I wished I’d have met her,” Sara said.

  “You would have liked her.” With that, Mirela stood and bid them goodbye. To Sara, she said, “See you tomorrow for your session.”

  “You bet.” Sara hugged her, and Mirela left.

  Sara re
turned to the table where Sean had stayed seated. She dropped back into her chair next to him. “What a case.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “What a—”

  Sean wheeled her chair closer to him and kissed her lips. “It’s been a crazy few days.”

  “I agree.”

  “And I know we’ve smoothed things out between us…about you feeling I hid my love of baseball from you.”

  “Ah, right. Yes, water under the bridge,” Sara said, and that’s how she truly felt.

  “Well, I’d like to take you to a World Series game. If Levi’s team keeps winning, they’ll be playing.”

  “I don’t know.” She really wasn’t a fan of sports, but with the look of disappointment sweeping over Sean’s features, she might make an exception—for one game. “Sure, let’s go.”

  He let out a deep breath. “Glad to hear you say that. I’ve already rented a box.”

  “Mr. McKinley.”

  “Hey, we’ve got the money; we might as well play with it.”

  “A box, you say? So, there’d be plenty of room for Jimmy, Adam, Helen, Mia, Meredith?”

  “You got it.”

  “Well, then, yes, I definitely accept your offer. The entire night’s on us, though. I don’t want them so much as buying themselves a beer or a package of corn nuts.”

  “You got it.”

  He kissed her once more, and as she sank into his strong arms—getting stronger by the workout—she couldn’t help but think: even if exercise is murder, at least it’s only fatal in rare cases.

  -

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