A Body to die for

off.”
    Janey said, “Ergort, let her down now.” She hadn’t moved from her position behind the reception desk. Ergort grunted and dropped me. My toes skimmed the floor. My butt hit next. I looked up at Ergort. He smirked and actually splashed some Gatorade on me with his sneaker.
    Janey jogged toward me. She seemed genuinely concerned. “Wanda, are you okay?” To Ergort, she said, “Brilliant, you dummy. Now she will sue.”
    “Do you treat all your members this way?” I asked from the puddle.
    “You’re not a member,” Janey reminded me politely. “But we do offer a special discount this week for women with coordination problems.” She smiled wickedly.
    “Then you’d better alert your mother,” I said. “And tell Ameleth Bergen I’m looking for her.” I struggled to a stand, carefully sidestepping the Gatorade slick. My spine felt splintered. Detecting was backbreaking work. “I want to talk to her right away. As soon as I’ve had my complimentary massage.”
    I heard the squish of rubber soles on the tiled floor. A couple of middle-aged women came into view in the mirrored walls. Ergort carefully escorted the women around the spill, and then busied himself with his mopping. Janey checked their club ID cards. I walked toward her desk once the women left. Janey put an ankle on the desktop and stretched herself flat out over her leg.
    “These monitors,” I said. “Do they record?” There were three minivideo monitors on her desk. I couldn’t quite make out the pictures. My glasses might help with that.
    “They just feed,” she said as she placed a clipboard in front of them.
    “Where are the cameras?” I asked.
    “That’s really none of your business,” she responded. I was about to ask her if she saw anything on the day of the murder, but didn’t think she’d give up anything for free.
    I nodded politely. “The next available massage will be fine,” I said. “As long as the next available slot opens in five minutes.” I tried to glare intimidatingly.
    Janey smiled. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. She took a nice long gander at my soggy jeans as she dialed the desk phone. Ergort was nearly done mopping. His arm muscles shifted like sand in the wind under his skin. His legs ballooned with knots of sinew. The hair: tightly curled and brown, riding high over his round face. Not a bad looking science experiment, except for the zits all over his neck. He already had the belligerent attitude. Next would come the shriveled nads.
    “Hey, Ergort,” I said to him loudly. “I bet you’ve even got muscles in your brain.”
    “I’ve got muscles everywhere,” he said proudly while pointing at his chest with his thumb.
    Janey switched legs. Her head was resting on her left knee when she said, “Go to the second floor. Your massage therapist for today will greet you at the elevator.”
    I smiled inside. All that had been necessary was for me to fall on my butt a couple times. I’d be all better soon. My relocated shoulder only bothered me when I made sarcastic remarks, which was hardly ever.
    “Don’t forget to tell Ameleth I’m here,” I said to Janey. She ignored me, too busy chinning her shin. I walked down the mirrored corridor to the elevator banks. A car waited for me. I pushed the button. A computerized voice said, “Pool, spa, locker rooms, next stop.” I looked around to make sure no one saw me start with surprise. Sure enough, a video camera whirred just over my head. I could picture Janey’s perfect cheekbones lifting with mirth. I smiled at the camera and grabbed my breast. “Mirth this,” I said.
    The elevator said, “Spa,” as the doors opened. A man stood directly outside. He had a big nose which hooked slightly to the left. His black eyes were dangerously close together. He had a goatee and long sideburns. He was slightly pudgy in the middle, but seemed to have strong arms and hands. He was dressed in white, from his smock all the way down to his orthopedic shoes. He smelled like potpourri.
    I smiled at him. He smiled back. His teeth were as white as his pants. Have I mentioned that I loathe white pants on men? He said, “Freddie Smith, madam. I’ll be giving you a full-body stress relieving treatment this morning.” He was holding a white terry cloth bathrobe, presumably for me.
    “I’m supposed to be getting a massage.”
    He laughed. “Ha, madam. A full-body stress relieving treatment is a massage. The fancy name goes with the price