Murder on the Bucket List (18 page)

“Ah,” said Charlotte. “You have an ulterior motive.”

“Precisely. You said you wanted to check Jake's website. We might as well do that while the others go through the line.”

Francine called it up on the computer, located the beach photo with the beer, and then kept clicking to enlarge the area where the beer bottle was. Before they could read the label, the photo became distorted.

“Too bad the label's not turned toward us so we can see it dead-on,” Charlotte said, “but I think enough is there to establish it's a Molson.”

“I disagree. The photo's so muddled there's no way to be certain.”

“You sound like you don't want it to be Jake Maehler. We need to find a reason someone other than Larry wanted this guy dead, remember?”

“I remember. This just seems tenuous.”

“We know Jake was in the building for a reason,” Charlotte insisted. “He came to get his car. The Molson bottle could establish that he knew about the hidden basement. If he knew about it, then Friederich had to have revealed it, which would mean Friederich used the basement.”

“For what purpose?”

Charlotte held up a finger. “We need to ask that of Jake Maehler.”

“We're a long way from getting to him. I'll be lucky to get anything out of Brady Prather when I drag Mary Ruth to the gym.” She checked her watch. “Speaking of which, we need to get back.”

Downstairs, Jud sat at the first table. Neighbors had crowded around him by pulling up extra chairs to be seated close to him. Clearly he was the main attraction. Jonathan and Vince were at the same table but at the opposite end. At the second table, Darla and some of the more gossipy neighbors sat with an elderly Japanese couple, fairly new to the neighborhood, who were hard of hearing. Darla was practically yelling at them in Japanese.

“Darla never misses an opportunity to show off her ability with Asian languages,” Francine groused as they went through the line. Darla had spent her middle school years in Asia. Her parents had been hired by foreign companies to teach their employees English.

“I've had my fill of her,” Charlotte said. “Let's join the third table, the one closest to the desserts.”

They could hear Darla's voice above all the others. She talked about Sara's racing season. Francine listened in while she watched Charlotte devour the chocolate pecan brownies first. “Just how good is Sara, anyway?” she asked under her breath. “Is she a threat to Jake?”

Charlotte licked a brownie crumb off her finger. “Only if she were trying to seduce him. The girl wants to be a model, not a race car driver.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I didn't hear it. I read it, or read it between the lines, in those magazines Friederich had.
Sprinting Midgets
or something like that.”

“You didn't mention it before.”

Charlotte picked up a sesame chicken wrap. “Because you were hurrying me when I was trying to tell you what I'd figured out. She's far more interested in being Cheryl Tiegs than Danica Patrick. She was wearing a t-shirt that had some sponsor's name on it, and the caption implied she was pursuing a contract.” She took a bite. “This is good, but I'd rather have another piece of that angel food cake. Do I have time?”

Francine looked at her watch and almost panicked. “We've got to move this thing along. Jud hasn't talked about the neighborhood watch yet, and then we need these people out of here so we can get Mary Ruth to the gym.”

“Don't have a coronary, I'll take care of it.” She struggled to her feet and waved at Joy. When Joy looked over, she pointed to her watch and said, much too loudly, “We need to get this moving.”

Francine rested her hand on her forehead and averted her eyes.

Joy hastily got back on the step ladder. “I know you're all enjoying the food. Could we have a round of applause for Mary Ruth?”

Francine applauded loudly, grateful to have the attention shifted elsewhere. Charlotte gave an appreciative, “Woo-hoo!”

“While you're finishing your dessert, Detective Brent Judson of the Brownsburg Police Department is here to talk to us about forming a neighborhood crime watch program. Let's all give him our attention.”

Jud was poised, handsome, and smiled so much Francine thought he should run for office. She was relieved when the group agreed to have a follow-up meeting. The last thing she needed was more discussion. He passed out a pamphlet describing successful neighborhood watch programs and urged them to come prepared next time to discuss practical ideas on implementing a program.

Even then, it took forever for people to leave. They lingered and gossiped about Alice and Larry, especially when Alice returned to the kitchen with an armful of trash.

But finally they were gone. Francine clutched Charlotte. “It's two fifteen. I've got to get Mary Ruth to the gym! She's going to resist a lot. But she can't say no! We may not get another chance like this.”

“Not to worry. We'll all just tell her she's going and drag her out of here. It's too important. You can explain on the way.”

Charlotte gathered up Joy and Alice, and the four of them ambushed Mary Ruth in the great room. As predicted, she was horrified at the prospect of going to a gym.

“Nooooo! I'm not going to do that.” She backed away from them like they were dentists coming at her with a needle.

“Believe me, if there was any other way to question him without it seeming obvious, I wouldn't ask,” Francine said.

“There's
got
to be another way.”

Charlotte got in Mary Ruth's face. “C'mon, what's the worst that could happen? I bet I've been in a gym at least a hundred times with all the physical therapy I've had. It's not so bad.”

“That's different. You were in a gym with a bunch of older people who needed rehab.”

“Not true. There were some young people there too.”

“Young or old, they all needed rehab. You're talking about putting me in a gym with healthy, skinny people. What are they going to think of me?”

“They're going to think you're extraordinarily brave.” Francine managed to swoop in behind Mary Ruth, and the four women propelled her toward the mudroom that led into the garage. “They're going to admire you for taking control of your life. And anyway, we're there to get information out of Jake's trainer, Brady Prather. He's really nice, but if you don't like him, you never have to go again.”

“
After
you've gotten the information out of him,” Charlotte added. “It could take several visits.”

“You're not helping, Charlotte,” Francine said.

“Several visits!” Mary Ruth stuck her heels into the floor, and with her weight, provided plenty of resistance.

“Yep. You'll probably need a note from your doctor too.”

“She's always trying to get me to exercise. I'm doomed!”

Joy put her back into giving Mary Ruth a boost. She pushed her completely into the mudroom. “But it's a good kind of doomed.”

“Joy! You're in on this, too?”

“We're all in on this, Mary Ruth. We were going to tell you earlier, but there just wasn't time.”

Charlotte pointed at her watch. “Time is something we have very little of. Remember, Alice and Larry are counting on you. You've got to do it.”

Mary Ruth grabbed onto the door frame. “But what will I wear?”

Joy began to pry the fingers from the woodwork. “Not to worry, dear. Francine borrowed one of Jonathan's t-shirts for you. It's in her car, along with some sweatpants from Alice. And you're wearing sneakers. You'll be fine.”

She still didn't look convinced. She let go of the door and held on to Francine. “You won't leave me, will you?”

Francine gave her arm a squeeze. “Of course not. I'll be with you all the time. You just follow my lead and do whatever Brady asks as we question him. And remember, today is just an evaluation.”

“Yeah,” said Charlotte. “He won't ask you to ‘feel the burn'. Not today.”

Mary Ruth made a grab for the doorpost again. “Feel the burn!”

“Charlotte! Be quiet!” Francine said, intercepting Mary Ruth's hands before they reached the door. “Let's go,” she said.

Mary Ruth held on to Francine as the women did an awkward dance pushing and pulling her into the garage and over to the car. Mary Ruth gave one last whine as Joy reached in and buckled her seat belt, but it was the whine of a horse that had been broken. Francine climbed in the driver's seat and, with one eye watching the car clock, drove away toward the Brownsburg Fitness Factory.

twenty-eight

“Okay, I admit he's
good-looking, but if he comes at me with a tape measure, I swear I'll kick him in the balls,” Mary Ruth whispered to Francine.

She sighed. “He
will
want to take measurements, I'm sure of that. But I'm also certain he won't make you feel bad. He wouldn't be a good trainer if he did.”

They were upstairs in the free weight area watching Brady Prather put a young woman through the final part of a workout. She was on a slanted board, and as she reached the bottom of the sit-up position, he tossed her a small medicine ball. She caught it and tossed it back when she completed the sit-up.

“That's Sara Baggesen, isn't it?” Mary Ruth asked.

Francine squinted to see the young woman's face clearly. “I think you're right.”

“She's sixteen? Ha! She's going on twenty-five. Do you remember having boobs like that when you were sixteen? I wonder if she's had a boob job. I bet you Darla would buy her a set. Of course, she ought to have them naturally if she's Darla's daughter. Although, maybe Darla's pair isn't natural, either.”

Sara wore a black and lime green tank top that hugged her chest like it was two sizes too small, but it was Sara's toned arms that caught Francine's attention. She could see the girl's triceps move as she threw the ball to Brady. “Do you remember when we were young and our arms didn't wave like politicians in a parade?” she asked Mary Ruth.

“Speak for yourself. I was never that firm.” Mary Ruth raised up on her tiptoes so she could whisper in Francine's ear. “And I wouldn't be caught dead with a tattoo like that.”

“Like what?” Francine strained to see what Mary Ruth was talking about.

“Not on her arm. Just above her ankle. How could you not notice?”

Try as she might, Francine couldn't locate it. Mary Ruth shuffled her to where they could get a better view.

“You're gawking at her! Don't do that!” Mary Ruth hissed. “You might as well take a picture.”

That gave Francine an idea. She really did want a chance to study the tattoo. It looked like a Japanese symbol of some kind. She took out her phone out of her workout capris, touched the camera app, and palmed the phone with her thumb on the button.

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh.”

Sara and Brady finished the workout, and Sara strode toward the women on her way out. She acknowledged them with a nod.

That was neighborly
, Francine thought, but she smiled back. She aimed the phone at Sara's calf as the girl passed and snapped off several photos. She hoped they came out, but she didn't have time to check. Brady said good-bye and shifted his attention to the two women at that moment. “Hello, Francine. I see you brought your friend.” He offered his hand to Mary Ruth. “I'm Brady Prather.”

Mary Ruth gave a giggle as she took it. “Hi. I'm Mary Ruth Bur
rows.”

“It's nice to meet you.”

Francine slipped the phone back in her pocket.

Another giggle. “It's nice to meet
you
.”

“Why don't we sit down and talk?” He pointed to an area that had folding chairs and a big-screen television, and the three of them found chairs around a small table.

Brady leaned up on the table, his beefy forearms taking up a good portion of the space. He wore a dark blue synthetic t-shirt that conformed to his body. Mary Ruth's breathing was tense, but Francine was beginning to think it was because Brady was affecting her libido, not her nervousness.

“Tell me about your goals.”

“I'm tired of being so overweight. I know I need to slim down, but it's difficult, being a caterer. I have to taste food all the time.”

Brady's eyes lit up in recognition. “Mary Ruth's Catering! You're the caterer!”

“What caterer?”

“You do that flourless chocolate cake that's so good.”

Mary Ruth blushed. “Well, I like to think it's pretty good.”

“You're single-handedly responsible for me becoming a personal trainer.”

“I am?”

“My mother got hold of your recipe and made it all the time. It was delicious. Our whole family packed on pounds.”

Mary Ruth's face fell. “This isn't a happy story, is it?”

“I don't think you can blame that on Mary Ruth,” Francine said, indignant. “Besides, she zealously guards her recipes. Your mother couldn't have gotten it from her.”

“Look, I'm not blaming her for the weight gain. We have to take responsibility for what we eat and how we exercise. But if we hadn't all been seduced by the cake, hadn't put on all that fat, I may never have had to struggle with how I looked. That got me into sports. From there I realized I had a calling.”

Mary Ruth sounded a little more hopeful. “So it's a good thing?”

He laughed. “Yeah, it's a good thing. I guess. Stand up, please.”

She struggled to her feet. He circled her, frowning. Francine thought he looked like an inspector at a meat factory.

“This will take a lot of work, mostly on your part,” he said. “I can design the program and be here to guide you through it, but the biggest part of this is going to be nutritional. I can't be in your kitchen making sure you eat the right things. That's something you'll have to do. The fact that you're a caterer will make it hard. Especially if you have any more weapons in your arsenal like that cake.”

Now it was Francine's turn to laugh. “Oh, she does.”

“What do you put in that thing to make it so addictive? Crack?”

Mary Ruth stepped back, aghast. “I only use natural ingredients. Real food!”

“I'm not saying it's crack. People's bodies react differently to all kinds of foods. My family's genes just seem to have a thing for your cake.” He pointed to a scale in a corner of the gym. “Let's get your weight.”

“Do I have to?”

“If I'm going to help you, we need to know your starting point.” He took her by the arm and piloted her over there. “It won't hurt you, you know.”

She tittered nervously. “I'm afraid I might hurt it.”

“It's held a lot more weight than you have.”

She stepped on the scale and Brady adjusted it. He wrote the weight down but didn't say anything.

“You can step off the scale now.” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket. “Hold your arms out straight, please.”

She hesitated.

“I can assure you, you can't hurt the tape measure either.”

“In this case, I'm afraid it will hurt me.”

“If you just follow the plan we're going to make out, both with exercise and especially the nutrition, you'll see these inches start coming down immediately.”

As he worked on taking Mary Ruth's measurements, Francine said, “That was Sara Baggesen ahead of us, wasn't it?”

He nodded.

“She doesn't look like she has any food addictions.”

“Sara is very dedicated. She sticks to the plan.”

“How much of that is her mom, do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

Mary Ruth understood what Francine was doing. “We all know Darla. She's the definition of a helicopter parent.”

“It's not my place to say.” He started to measure Mary Ruth's neck. She held still as he slipped the tape measure around her throat.

Francine kept talking. “We think Darla wouldn't let Sara stop racing, even if she wanted to do something else, like modeling for example. What do you think?”

Brady wrote down some measurements. He made a noise that sounded noncommittal. “I wouldn't say that,” he said, picking up the tape measure again, “but I do think she wants Sara to be a race car driver as much or more than Sara does.”

“I can hardly believe she's only sixteen. She looks so mature.”

“She works hard.” Brady interlocked his fingers and put his hands behind his head. “Put your hands behind your head, like this, please.” As Mary Ruth copied his movement, he measured her biceps.

Francine watched him record the figure. “Sara's good looking, don't you think? She could be a model
and
a race car driver, like Danica Patrick. Don't you think?”

“Probably.”

Mary Ruth started to put her arms down.

“Please hold that position for a moment more.”

“Sorry.”

He started to measure her around her bust. Mary Ruth's posture stiffened.

“Just relax.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I just have a few more measurements to take.”

Francine was alarmed Brady could be done so soon. She hadn't even shifted the topic to Jake Maehler yet. “You train a lot of race car drivers, don't you?”

“You can put your arms down now.” He bent down to measure her calves. “I train a few.”

“Well, I know you train Jake Maehler.”

“He's another great client.”

“He's had a lot of press lately, hasn't he, with Friederich Guttmann's death and their professional relationship being rocky after the last race?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Unnecessary press. Jake was upset. He said some things he shouldn't have. I'd like to kill the reporter who keeps bringing it up.”

“I'm sure you're right he was just upset,” Francine said, noting that Brady had used the word
kill
. “Although there's quite a bit of speculation why Jake reacted so strongly. You have any idea why he accused Friederich of sabotage?”

Brady gave Francine a suspicious look.

“We're just interested because we found the body,” Mary Ruth said.

He straightened up. “Okay, how serious are you about this program? Are you here just to ask questions about Jake and Sara or do you want to lose weight?”

The two women looked at each other, horrified. Mary Ruth faced Brady squarely. “Both. If you can really help me lose weight, I'm in.”

“If you're in, I can definitely help you lose weight. I can't help you with your questions, though. You'll have to ask Jake.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Francine asked.

“I'll ask him to talk to you.”

She squelched a laugh. “It's that easy?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I know about you and your friend Charlotte. My mom talks about you. I think it would be easier on Jake if he just made time to answer your questions.”

If Charlotte had been there, she would have had some witty retort. Francine, however, was left speechless.