One Taste of You (One Taste #1)

by Amanda Siegrist

  "You mean, did Rina call?"

  "I meant what I asked. I know they decided to sleuth a little harder into the company for us and I was wondering if they found anything. I do feel better knowing there's a guard at the office now. Young was quick to agree on hiring a private security company during working hours until we figure this shit out. And we know the guard, so that's a plus. Three dead employees doesn't look good for Young or the company. Just wondering if they called."

  "Because I would deviously hold that information until we were in the car driving down the road simply to annoy you. You're hoping Rina called. You wanted her to call you, didn't ya?" Zeke said with a boisterous laugh as he slapped his leg.

  "I'm going to let you get your digs in just because you're feeling a bit down. Enjoy it while it lasts," Ben said, glancing out the window. His attention didn't last long looking at the scenery. "Does that mean she called you?"

  Zeke busted out laughing, slapping the wheel with gusto. "Thanks, Ben. I think I truly feel better. I needed that."

  "Where did the damn pencil fall so I can throw it at you?" Ben muttered as he leaned down to search the floor when he didn't see it on his lap.

  "Settle down, Romeo. She didn't call and neither did Dee."

  Ben sat back up. "Why didn't you just say that? Why you gotta keep a man in misery?" Ben shook his head. "So you think she'll call me or you, if something pops up?"

  "Well, I don't know. Zoe told me I have this honey smooth voice. She might call me to hear it. I have that affect on women."

  "Ouch," Zeke yelled as the pencil hit him in the neck. "Really? Not much space here, man. You could've poked my eye out."

  "You have a woman. Don't go honey smooth talking other women. Especially Rina," Ben said with a scowl.

  "Finally the man admits to liking her."

  "That wasn't an admission of shit. I don't like her. I was only wondering who she would call. I helped her last time, so I thought she'd be more comfortable talking to me, that's all," Ben said, glancing out the window again.

  "De-nial...don't confuse that word with the river," Zeke said with a laugh.

  "I'm gonna throw you in a damn river is what I'm gonna do. If you're feeling better, then this conversation is over. Have we made it to the bank yet?" Ben asked.

  "Not quite. Five more minutes of me getting to rub it in that you like her," Zeke said with a snicker.

  "Where'd that pencil go?" Ben said, looking around Zeke's lap. "Better drive faster before I find it."

  "You and your pencil don't scare me."

  "It should. I'll really show you my pencil."

  "I don't want to see your pencil. Don't say shit like that to me."

  "What sort of pencil are you talking about?" Ben asked, laughing.

  "What pencil are you?" Zeke countered.

  "This one, you idiot," Ben said as he found the pencil near the gearshift and threw it at Zeke one more time.

  "Knock it off. Quit throwing it and talking about your pencil," Zeke said, grabbing the pencil from his lap where it landed after hitting him in the arm. He threw it down on the floor by his feet. "About Rina, do you think—"

  "Ouch." Zeke rubbed his head after Ben smacked him.

  "Quit talking about Rina. I don't like her. I don't need a pencil to attack you."

  "Let me repeat. De-nial. You wouldn't be smacking me if you didn't. It's so obvious. Just admit it like a man," Zeke said, rubbing his head one more time. "And you're welcome."

  "Do I even wanna know why?"

  "For meeting Zoe, falling in love, and finding a woman who has a friend you happen to like," Zeke said with a wide grin.

  "Oh, look. We made it to the bank. I can't wait."

  Zeke pulled into a parking space, laughing softly. Before he could put the car in park, Ben opened his door and stepped outside. That made Zeke laugh even harder.

  "Quit laughing. Act like a professional," Ben muttered as they made their way to the bank entrance.

  "Thanks for making me feel better, buddy. That's what friends are for," Zeke said, clapping him on the back.

  "I'm reconsidering being your friend." Ben opened the door.

  "No, you're not." Zeke almost bumped into Ben as he stopped abruptly.

  He turned his head around slowly with a devious grin. "Am too."

  "Can I help you, gentlemen?" a brunette wearing a bright green blouse and a black pencil skirt asked, as she walked up to them with a friendly, yet concerned expression on her face.

  "Yes. I'm Detective Chance, and this is my partner, Detective Stoyer. We need to speak with the bank manager, please," Zeke said, holding up his badge.

  "Yes, of course. Wait right here," she said, walking away quickly to the left.

  "You're scaring the bank people. Ask her out already," Zeke whispered to Ben.

  "I'm not afraid to find a pencil while standing in this bank," Ben whispered back, smiling at a bank teller, who gave them a curious glance.

  "Detectives, how may I help you? I'm Jerry Smith, the bank manager," Jerry said, holding out his hand to shake.

  Zeke shook his hand. "Detective Chance, sir. My partner, Detective Stoyer." Zeke gestured at Ben. "We have a key, evidence in a murder investigation that we think might be a lockbox key. We were wondering if it's from this bank. We think it belongs to George Murphy. Perhaps you can check and see if he has an account here."

  "Well, without a warrant I can't divulge a customer's privacy if this Mr. Murphy has a lockbox here. I can look at the key and tell you if it's one of ours," Jerry said, stone-faced.

  "You can't do a little tap, tap, tap on the keyboard to tell us if Mr. Murphy has an account here," Zeke said, as nice as possible.

  "No, Detective. Show me a warrant," Jerry replied with no change in his expression.

  "Well, can you tell us if you recognize this key?" Ben said, taking it out of his pocket, holding it up to Jerry.

  Jerry leaned closer to Ben, eyeing the key through the plastic evidence bag.

  "May I?" Jerry asked, holding his hand out.

  "Yeah, but don't take it out of the bag," Zeke said.

  Jerry glanced at him. "Of course not, Detective." He grabbed the bag from Ben, looking at it closely, turning it around a few times. "It's not one of ours."

  "Are you sure, Mr. Smith?" Ben asked, accepting the bag back.

  "I'm positive, Detective. It's not ours."

  "And you can't go check to make sure if Mr. Murphy has an account here," Zeke said, trying one more time.

  "Show me a warrant. That key doesn't belong to us. Obviously, because it doesn't take a genius, you want to know what's in his lockbox. That key isn't ours. Therefore, does it matter if he has an account here?" Jerry said, sardonically.

  "Gee golly whiz, I guess not," Zeke said, irritated.

  "What my partner means is, are you sure?" Ben stated.

  "I'm one hundred percent positive. Every bank, at least, I assume so, has an identifying mark on their lockbox keys. It's to differentiate them from each bank and stop people from duplicating them. It's been known to happen. Thief's try everything they can. Our identifying mark isn't on that key, thus making it not our key," Jerry said matter-of-factly.

  "Hmm. You'd be the first to point that out. No other bank told us that. Can you tell what bank this key is from?" Zeke asked.

  "To be honest, it doesn't look like a bank key," Jerry said, taking it back from Ben. He didn't give Jerry an option as he held it practically under his nose until he grabbed it.

  Jerry inspected it one more time, sighing in annoyance. Zeke and Ben shared a look, wondering why this case couldn't go right for once.

  "I don't think it's from any bank. It has a number...52...I think it says on the one side. No bank would just have a number like that. It might not be, but this funny curved shape on the bottom, the way the key is designed. It sort of looks like a key from the lockers at the gym I go to," Jerry said, handing the key back.

  "What gym?" Zeke asked. They needed something to work wit
h if this key didn't belong to a lockbox.

  "The new one off Division Street, Pump It Up Fitness. I've only been a member for about a month, but I've rented a locker a few times and it looks like that key," Jerry said.

  "Well, we thank you for your time, Mr. Smith. And the helpful information," Ben said with a smile.

  "Of course, Detective. Have a nice day," Jerry said, finally offering a smile.

  Zeke walked away first, holding the door open for Ben, and walked out behind him.

  "A gym key. Carly never mentioned Murphy was a member of a gym, did she?" Zeke asked as he opened the car door and slid into his seat.

  "No, but she fails to mention a lot of stuff. Cheaters...never can trust 'em," Ben said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Let's see where Pump It Up Fitness is located. Division is a long street."

  "I think they put it by the mall. Sounds kinda familiar and I remember thinking it was an eyesore," Zeke said, taking a left out of the parking lot.

  "An eyesore? Sore on your eyes 'cause you don't see yourself ever working out," Ben said, chuckling.

  "I don't need to work out at a gym. I'm fit as a fiddle and Zoe has never complained," Zeke said, proudly, sucking in his stomach a little.

  "Women don't tell their man that. They'll simply think it and eventually deny you sex 'cause it's gross to be with you," Ben said, barely lifting his eyes from his phone as he searched the Internet. "And I saw you suck it in."

  "Did not," Zeke said, letting it out, glancing at his stomach. Flat. That's all he saw. Perfectly fine. "Are you trying to mess with me again? Zoe's going to deny me sex now because she thinks my body's getting disgusting. No more shit about the pregnancy?"

  "Oh, she'll deny you for that reason, too."

  "Maybe that's why you're afraid to ask Rina out. You don't work out that much either," Zeke countered.

  "I don't want to ask her out because I don't like her like that," Ben said as he shifted in his seat.

  "Ha! I saw you. You thought about it. You tried to suck it in," Zeke said, pointing an accusing finger at him.

  "Ignoring you," Ben said in a singsong voice. "Damn, you're right. I hate it when you're right sometimes. It's across from the mall."

  "Oh, I love it when I'm right. Which is, oh, all the time," Zeke said, as he took a right.

  Ben rolled his eyes and put his phone away. His silence made Zeke laugh.

  They made it to the gym fifteen minutes later. Zeke parked the car. Ben took his time to exit the vehicle this time. "You're right. It's kind of an eyesore."

  "Told ya."

  "Did you have to throw that in?"

  "Yep," Zeke said with a smirk, as he held open the door for Ben. "After you."

  Ben rolled his eyes again, walked inside, and went straight to the counter. A young kid, about eighteen, sat looking at a magazine, his feet propped up on the counter. When he saw them approach, he dropped his feet, stood up, and pasted a smile on his face.

  "Welcome to Pump It Up Fitness where we will Pump. You. Up. How can I help you?"

  Zeke walked up by Ben with a slightly alarmed expression on his face. "Not here for any pumping up. Can we speak to the manager on duty?"

  "Yeah, sure, bro. Let me go get Dickens. He'll change your mind. He always does," the kid said with an arrogant attitude, yet smiling as he did. He walked away, arms swinging wide, as if he was trying to show his muscles when there were clearly none to be found.

  "We will pump you up. Catchy phrase. Makes me wanna join," Ben said sarcastically.

  Zeke laughed. "You should."

  "What does that mean?" Ben asked with a frown.

  "Means nothing. Or does it mean something?" Zeke said, leaning an arm on the counter.

  "Oh, it's on now. You must not have gotten any this morning. You're normally not this squirrely," Ben said, leaning his arm on the counter as well as he glared at Zeke.

  "I don't talk about my sex life with you, Ben. Especially concerning Zoe. But since it's on. As a matter of fact, I did get some. A whole lotta some. It's too bad you're not getting any. You could, if you just manned up and asked Rina out," Zeke said, leaning a bit closer.

  "Oh, it's like that, is it?" Ben said, shaking his head, his lips pierced in a thin line. "Damn, I got nothing."

  "Is that an admission you like Rina?" Zeke asked curiously with a grin.

  "Nope. I can't argue when I'm not getting any. You lean any further and I might duel you in an arm wrestling contest."

  "Now who's being unprofessional? Arm wrestling. Yeah, I can already hear the captain hollering at us about that one," Zeke said, straightening up when the biggest guy he'd ever seen in his life walked up to them. His neck was the size of his head, his shoulders broad, stuck out in the air, and his arms circled wide of his body, they were so large. Not one inch of the man's body was devoid of muscles. Zeke figured he took pumping it up to the extreme.

  "Gentlemen, Tommy here said you were looking to join. I'm Dickens, the manager, the owner, and the best personal trainer you'll ever have," he said, reaching out to shake their hands.

  Zeke wanted to step back, suddenly afraid to defy the man. Maybe that's what the kid meant by he would change their minds. He cleared his throat and shook hands with Dickens. "Well, Tommy there, misunderstood. We're not here to join. Detective Chance, and this is my partner, Detective Stoyer. We're investigating a murder and we found a key. We were wondering if it belonged to one of your lockers. Do you mind taking a look at it?"

  "Sure. Don't see why you have to make a trip just for that. Doesn't take much to sign up," Dickens said with a friendly smile.

  "It's tempting, Dickens, but we'll pass," Ben said, handing the evidence bag to him.

  He barely glanced at it. "Yep. That's ours. Who was murdered? I have a great memory of every member. I keep a tight ship. I don't want anyone to waver from their goal."

  Zeke cringed inside, picturing this man yelling down his neck to do one more set. He was definitely not joining. "George Murphy, from Mills, Murphy, and Young Accountants."

  "Ah, yes, George. Marital problems. Wanted to boost his image a bit and get the wife back in his arms. That is sad to hear. Although, the past few weeks he did fail to show. I called him a few times and he always sounded distracted. He promised me he was working on the exercises I insisted he do at home."

  "He was killed about two weeks ago. When's the last time you saw him?" Ben asked.

  "I would say about a month ago. He was fine the last time I saw him and then he failed to show up for his next appointment. I called him and he was very distracted. I figured more marital problems occurred and I didn't want to make the guy feel even worse. I insisted he continue his regime at home and make the next appointment," Dickens said, inhaling, making him look more massive than he should to Zeke.

  "Did his wife know he joined a gym? We looked through his financial records and never saw your gym pop up," Zeke asked.

  "No idea if she knew. I'm going to gander a guess and say no. He seemed pretty determined to win her back. He had suspicions she was cheating, but he didn't care. He said he loved his wife. And about the financial statements, he always paid in cash. I would guess he was trying to keep it from his wife," Dickens said.

  "Do you mind if we have a look at the locker with this key?" Ben asked.

  "Of course not. When you're done, you two mosey on down to my office and we'll get you signed up lickety split," Dickens said with a smile. "Tommy, show these Detectives to the locker room and I'll get the process started."

  "Ah, no thanks...never mind," Zeke muttered as Dickens walked away without hearing a word. He turned to Tommy. "Lead the way."

  Tommy nodded with a pumped up grin and started walking to the left. He hopped down a set of stairs with intense energy, turned left again at the bottom, and pointed to the door at the end of the hallway. "Men's locker room. You don't need me at this point, do ya, bro?"

  "Na, bro, we're good," Zeke said, holding his hand out for a fist bump.

  Tommy n
odded in awe. "Right on, bro. Holla, holla if ya need me." Tommy turned around with zealous energy and rushed up the stairs.

  "If I have a boy, please, do not allow him to speak like that if I'm not around," Zeke said shaking his head in alarm.

  "Don't worry, I won't. Let's make this quick. Hell, let's try to sneak out. I do not want to become a member. I can actually see Dickens showing up at my door, saying, "Let's pump it up." It's terrifying to think about," Ben said, shivering from the imagery.

  Zeke laughed, agreeing. They would be quick. He opened the locker room door and started searching for locker 52. When he found it, he held his hand out to Ben. "Moment of truth."

  Ben gave him the bag. Zeke ripped it open, grabbed the key, and tried putting it in the hole. It wouldn't fit. "What the hell?"

  "Are you doing it right?"

  "It's a key. How hard can it be?" Zeke said, as he tried again.

  The bottom portion of the key was curved so funny it refused to go in properly. He fiddled and fiddled until he heard Ben say, "Apparently very hard. You need some help? You need a real man to do it?"

  Zeke gave him a hard glare. "Back it up, Ben, before I pump a little fist into you. I got this." Zeke lifted the key at an angle, then pushed down, finally inserting it into the hole correctly. He turned the key and heard the click. The moment was upon them.

  "I think they make it difficult so you have no choice but to stay and continue pumping it up," Ben said with a flash of fear in his eyes. "We need to get outta here."

  "You're probably right. Scary ass place."

  Zeke blew a hard breath and opened the door. He started laughing when he saw gym clothes, a pair of sneakers, and toiletries for the showers scattered in the locker. "Wow, and here I thought it would be empty with the flash drive sitting perfectly in the middle. Now we have to touch Murphy's disgusting gym clothes."

  Ben pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket. "Hey, try not to let the place rub off on you when you touch his stuff. I'm not joining."

  Zeke chuckled as he pulled on a pair of gloves as well. Together, they took turns taking things out and searching through everything.

  "I think I got something," Ben said, pulling his hand out of the pocket of the gym shorts. Displayed brightly in his hand was a blue and white flash drive.