“Isn’t it my job to keep people safe in this town?” Grace had asked when Mark was in the middle of recruiting a new candidate to be the face of the gym, which he had called Imperial Fitness. “Surely people don’t think about safety at a gym.”
“I don’t mean safe in the physical sense, I mean safe like I want them to come here to work out and feel better about themselves and not feel threatened by others who may be in better shape. I mean, I’m not going to go as far as not allowing members to grunt while they lift weights, but I want them to walk through the doors and feel like this is their second home and not be intimidated by others.”
Grace wished she had the ambition to be in shape like Mark did. As she walked back to the station in the wake of Mark’s motivated running group, she could feel a little extra flab hanging over the top of her pants. Getting in a relationship smack-dab in the middle of winter didn’t help her weight loss goals, even if her boyfriend was the poster boy for fitness. He was always encouraging healthy eating followed by dates involving some form of physical activity, while she was on the opposite end of the spectrum, suggesting they order pizza and binge watch movies all weekend. There was a good amount of push and pull in their relationship, but it made for a perfect balance.
“Hi Grace!” Grace was ripped out of her thoughts by a perky, teenage voice.
“Hey Julia.” She instantly recognized the teen, who was always surrounded by a gaggle of girlfriends. She knew the girl like she knew everyone else in town: because she was related to someone else. Julia’s dad owned a plumbing company that was on the receiving end of most of the town’s residential and commercial projects. If Grace could picture Julia years down the road, she would see Julia in the same social category as Dina Woodward, involved in all the town happenings and so active in her kid’s school activities it would literally become a full-time job. Julia eased back into the conversation with the two other girls she was walking with. Something about summer plans and where they would be going the night before the parade.
She turned the corner of Texeira Ave, nearly walking smack-dab into a walking train of toddlers all holding onto a rope being guided by a preschool teacher from the Little Red Schoolhouse Kindercare in town. In front of The Nest Gifts and More were two people Grace deemed tourists because she had never seen them before. They were also wearing matching Martha’s Vineyard T-shirts, their appearances far too put-together for picking up a last-minute birthday gift. The little store was one of the only gift shops in town that sold trinkets varying from wine glasses to kid’s toys to books about the town’s history.
Grace only had one thought on why this particular couple apparently hailing from Martha’s Vineyard was here: that they would be fixer-uppers in the town, which was rising on the priority list of Boston real estate agents. This wouldn’t be the first well-off couple to come in and buy an old dilapidated home, fix it up and sell it for over a million. Bridgeton came to life in the summer months, and the warm weather not only brought the residents out to frequent the parks and the town hotspots, but also attracted an influx of tourists. Every year as development expanded and outsiders got wind of the small gem of a town just three train stops away from Boston, there were more and more of these tourists and Grace knew she would be dealing with more than just town drunks over the summer months. It usually started from the moment the last school bell rang for the year; by the fourth of July the town would be in full swing and the police blotter page in the newspaper doubled in size. People were just more active and prone to trouble in the summer months. The heat was like a wrecking ball of crime.
Sunlight glistened on the few police cruisers lining the outside of the small brick station; one of the cruisers was lathered in suds.
“Hey, Grace.” Officer Lucerto lifted his sunglasses onto his forehead with a sudsy finger and looked up from the meticulous circles he was making with the sponge. “What time is the big opening tonight?”
“Hey, Elliott,” Grace said, shielding her eyes from the sunlight ricocheting off the hood of the car. “Doors open at 6 and Mark is going to give his little speech by 7. Hopefully he doesn’t go past the time allotted. I kept telling him he needs to cut back, but you know how he gets when he starts talking about exercise.”
“Oh, if anyone knows, I do.” Elliott slid his glasses down his face and rinsed out the sponge in a big bucket. Grace laughed as she hopped up the steps to the back door. Elliott had been on the receiving end of Mark’s fitness obsession when he first became an officer in Bridgeton. Mark had taken the rookie under his wing and trained him in the station’s basement before trading his gun for sneakers and sweat.
Grace could hear Barb’s Boston accent coming in hard and fast at her desk near the control room. “Yeah, okay Mrs. O’Donnell, but I told you, your husband is not here. He died three years ago. Do you want us to send an officer over?” She rested her head on her left hand and held the phone with her right, going through the motions of the daily call from the 98-year-old woman who suffered from a severe case of dementia. Mrs. O’Donnell had been looking for her husband since he passed away three years ago. She had started to go downhill just before he lost his life to natural causes, and she wasn’t quite oriented during the funeral. Everyone at the station felt bad for her and there was usually a daily police officer visit to her room at the assisted living facility, just to check in. Barb’s eyes moved from a spot on her desk to Grace as she walked by, before she signaled for her to hold on. It was hard not to obey the feisty redhead who basically operated the entire station, so Grace stopped mid-step and waited for her to finish her conversation.
After she slammed the phone down harder than necessary, Barb gestured for Grace to sit in the seat that was flush with the side of her desk. Everything about Barb was loud and boisterous. Compared to her fellow employees, Barb was a fluorescent color amongst their bland navy blue.
“Hey, Princess, so what’s the deal with tonight? Does Marky need any help setting up or anything? You know how I love to put on a good party.”
“I think he’s all set, but feel free to send him a text.” Grace read a list of tasks on Barb’s desk calendar. As disorganized as the woman appeared at times, there was a method to her madness and she always managed to pull things off. It was why she had been so successful in this position for the past 30 years.
“What’s up? What’s on your mind, Princess?” Barb asked between sips of her Big Gulp. Grace wondered if the woman had some sort of sixth sense; she could always seem to tell when Grace’s mind had been elsewhere after a vision. Luckily, before Grace could answer, Barb was onto the next topic. “I’ve got all your paperwork filed for Michael, but wasn’t there a woman involved too? I don’t see anything about her in the file.”
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about that, I got a statement from her. I’ll handle it.” Grace pushed herself up from the chair before she had to answer any more questions about Miriam. As far as she was concerned, Miriam would be her little secret and the less she was involved in the police report, the easier Grace’s job would be.
“So, what’s the deal, Michael was drunk behind the wheel and he hit the ole broad?”
“Yeah, Michael was drunk all right, but luckily he missed her. She was fine. Uneventful.”
“Man, I tell ya, that guy was a looker back in his day, such a shame.” Barb looked off into space, her eyes extra shiny against her bright red hair. Grace could see some coils of gray sprouting from the deep shades of red.
“That’s what I hear.” Grace rose from the rickety wooden chair and headed back to her office. “So, I’ll see ya tonight?”
“I’ll be there with bells. Me and some of the guys are gonna grab a cocktail before the opening if you want to join us, but I’m sure you’ll be too busy playing ‘first lady’ tonight,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
While Barb was the one who pushed Grace to go on a date with Mark in the first place, she tended to throw backhanded comments at their relationship. She had been giving Mark a hard
time ever since he resigned, as if he’d personally attacked her when he decided to leave his career as a cop. Not everyone was as faithful to the force as Barb was.
Chapter Three
As usual, Grace was running late for something that had to do with her personal life. Mark was well aware of her timing issues and had already told her not to rush to get to the big grand opening of the gym, but she tried her damnedest to get there before his speech kicked off. She whipped around the rotary in the center of town and slid into an open spot in front of “Tease Salon,” which happened to be the one with the painted rocks. Grace couldn’t help but be curious about Michael’s daughter. She was in such a hurry to get out of her Jeep that she forgot to take the seatbelt off and panicked when she was restricted while attempting to get out. Grace’s mind was always one step ahead of her body, often consumed with her work and trying to be superwoman with limited resources.
The door of the salon was open, and Grace was hit with a multitude of fragrant sprays and shampoos as she walked by on her way to the gym. She couldn’t resist peeking in the window, which was covered in colorful paintings that matched the rocks lined along the bottom of the brick storefront. Reflecting off the rocks below, words of encouragement were splayed on the glass, welcoming guests to enter only with kind words and inclusive dispositions. The salon was bustling with activity as trendy stylists foiled, styled and blew out hair with such rhythm that they looked like they were executing a choreographed dance to the clubby background music.
“Can I help you?” Grace saw a mane of texturized blonde hair streaked with red highlights swing from the open door before she saw the face that went along with it. Piercing, blue eyes were accented beneath the woman’s side-swept bangs and stood out from her exceptionally tan face.
“Oh, um… I was just looking,” Grace stumbled on her words, startled by the woman she assumed was Michael’s daughter, based on the distinct ocean blue eye color.
“You sure you don’t want a few highlights to brighten up your locks for the summer?” the girl asked, displaying a set of bright white teeth accompanied by a little giggle. Watching all the women getting primped with colors and sprays made Grace second-guess her boring brown hair, and she found herself tugging at the dead ends that had accumulated from her lack of self-care.
“Um…well… I don’t really get highlights, but I suppose I could use some?” the omission came out more as a question. She wanted to hand her head of hair over to this woman who appeared to have it so together.
“Great, I just had a cancelation… How’s tomorrow at 11:00?” The woman winked as she effortlessly walked backward to the dryer where one of her customers sat.
“Yes, that’s perfect.” The words came out of her mouth before she could even puzzle tomorrow’s schedule in her head. She knew it was Saturday, though, and she was supposed to take at least one day off a week, per Mark’s demand, so maybe a little time at the salon would be a good thing for her. She was drawn to this woman for some reason. Maybe it was the positive energy that seemed to radiate off her, or maybe it was the fact that she was what Grace wasn’t: hip, trendy and put together.
“I’m Amy, by the way.” The woman changed the setting on the dryer and looked up.
“I’m Grace.”
By the time she pulled the door open to Imperial Fitness, Mark was already well into his speech, but that didn’t stop him from catching her eye amongst the many sets packed into the small space. The center was big for the town, but small in comparison to other major gyms.
Luckily, only a few others noticed her arrival. One was Barb, who was clearly not interested in the latest fitness trends, and the other was a woman who looked like she was in her fifties from the neck up but could easily get work as a young celebrity’s stunt double from the neck down. Unlike most women her age, her arms had dips and peaks in all the right places to prove that she spent countless hours tightening and toning her muscles.
Without trying to conceal her disturbance in the crowd, Barb boldly made her way through the many bodies standing at attention and taking in all Mark had to say about eating clean and moving your way to happiness. People adjusted themselves accordingly as Barb passed by, some stepping an inch forward and others angling themselves sideways so her plump body could make its way through.
“Hey, Princess,” Barb said, out of breath from the little movement she made.
“Hey, what did I miss?”
“You know, the usual mumbo jumbo that Mark always talks about… green smoothies, protein shakes and something about high-intensity something or other.” She said the words with a look of disgust as if she just bit into a stale piece of bread. The woman definitely wouldn’t be jumping on a health bandwagon anytime soon. In fact, Barb was so set in her ways and so unmoving in her opinions that talking to her was like talking to a telephone pole at times; but she was Barb, and if you stuck around long enough to get past her rough and tough exterior, you’d have a friend for life. “What took you so long to get here?”
“I was setting up a hair appointment,” Grace said, prepared for her reaction.
“Hot dang! This girl is on fire!” Barb slapped her thigh so hard, several sets of eyes darted in her direction.
Grace regretted her admittance from the moment it erupted from her mouth.
“Are you getting your first haircut? Should we bring an envelope so we can keep the first locks you’ve ever had cut? First the pedicure last week, now this? Well, I reckon you are turning into quite the little lady,” she said in shouting whispers.
Ever cautious with people overhearing about her personal life, Grace looked around to make sure no one was actually listening to the conversation. But it was too late, as there were people turning and giving them the side-eye from all angles of the space. One specific set of familiar eyes landed on hers and locked. Christie. She smiled at Grace, recognizing her from earlier that day, before she rested a hand on her protruding belly and leaned into Scott, still in his work clothes. Grace guessed he had a professional job where he could come and go, which was why he was able to drop Kloe off at the meeting earlier. He seemed like he was in some type of high-powered position simply because everything about him shined, as if he had an extra coat of gloss on his standard appearance.
“So, now let’s officially cut the ribbon and open this gym up!” Mark’s final words were greeted with applauding hands. This was her cue to head up front, to help him mark the big moment. Grace felt Barb following behind as she made her way to the front to stand next to Mark and a few of his long-time employees as he cut the ribbon to commence the opening of the business. The woman from the local newspaper was front and center, ready to snap a photo that would make the front page in the small town. “Everyone count with me, ready…1…2….3…” he shouted as he snipped the red ribbon that had the gym’s logo on it. After another round of applause, the guests broke up into several small groups. Some were taking advantage of the complimentary appetizers and drinks and others were fully committed and testing out the workout equipment. Grace had a split second to give Mark a quick hug before he was pulled aside by several interested members who had the smarts to sign up during the opening, when there was a major incentive to join: a free one-on-one personal training session with Mark himself. Grace was grateful she wasn’t a jealous person, because the life of a trainer involved touching women of all shapes and sizes all day long. And a lot of these women thought Mark was a God. From the stay-at-home moms to the high-powered career women, Mark had quite the following, and for good reason. He had the ability to blend professionalism with charm and a dedicated playfulness. He was a perfect balance in the industry and he knew not only when to relax a bit, but also when to take it up a notch and put his foot down when a client was getting sidetracked. It also helped that he was good-looking, but not threateningly so. He wasn’t quite of movie star caliber, but his smile had the ability to completely transform his face and turn him into the warm, accepting friend everyone was looking for. One would
think Grace was the one with the constant off-duty calls, but it was actually Mark who got woken in the middle of the night with clients asking for advice regarding all aspects of life. It could be about something expected like the amount of carbs in a green apple, to something as bizarre as a mom asking Mark’s opinion on her son’s choice of college. Grace teased him for his over-the-top relationships with his clients that would never fly in the police world. But it worked out for both of them, considering Mark’s fitness reputation had followed him everywhere and he had clients that came out to Bridgeton from Boston to get a good workout in. Those clients were usually highly connected, leading Grace to reap the rewards of concert tickets, big city plays, and prime reservations at noteworthy restaurants.
As Grace made her way through the crowd, the smell of the turkey bacon-wrapped mushrooms hit her and she realized how hungry she was after once again forgetting to eat. She swiped one of the mushroom balls from a tray being passed around by a server and popped it in her mouth before anyone could see. Grace had a thing about eating in front of people. She was always afraid some morsel of food would get caught in her teeth and she’d be that girl with the unforgettable spinach smile. Her fear came honestly after she was interviewed about the Waterford case on the local television channel while a sesame seed was jammed between her front teeth. She should’ve known better, as everything bagels had a tendency of leaving their mark behind on her slightly-spaced teeth. Barb still hadn’t let her forget it. Sure enough, Grace’s slobbish eating tendencies got the best of her again. Just as she noticed a dollop of grease that must’ve dripped from the mushroom and onto the front of her shirt, she felt a bump on her shoulder.
Buried Secrets Page 3