A Body to die for

at each woman as I spoke. When I got to the end of the line—to Falcone—I was stunned. She must have dropped ten pounds. She still had a ways to go, but damn, she looked good. I never noticed cheekbones—hers were high and strong. And her lovely neck—long and ropey. That chromium was a miracle. The women of America will rejoice. Just as soon as I could get the hell out of there.
    Falcone glared with her beady eyes (that hadn’t changed). A thin film of sweat covered her forehead and upper lip. She was nervous, but excited. “Where’s the notebook?” she demanded.
    “I don’t have it,” I tried.
    “We know you have it, Wanda,” Janey insisted. She seemed tired. I didn’t think she really had the heart for anything crueler than fat jokes.
    I ribbed, “Special offer today. Twenty years at Rikers for slutty receptionists.” That woke her up. She growled. Smoke billowed out her nostrils, steam out her ears. “You really should do something about that,” I offered. “It’s very unbecoming.”
    “Shut up, Mallory,” Falcone barked. “Ten guys told police officers that they saw a woman answering your description walk through the weight room with a spiral notebook under your dress shortly after the attack on Leeza Robbins was reported.”
    “Lies, all lies.”
    “You dropped it at one point. One of the guys tried to pick it up but you kicked him.”
    “He was looking under my dress.” I turned to Ameleth. “What kind of perverts do you let in here anyway?”
    Falcone sighed heavily. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. She offered me one. I refused. She lit up. Her secondhand smoke tasted swell—even menthol. Finally, she said, “Are you going to give us the notebook now or will we have to convince you?”
    “I told you already—I don’t have it to give.” It was the truth.
    “So where is it?”
    “I gave it to AA—Aerobicizers Anonymous.” That went over like an anvil.
    Ameleth propped her tiny butt on the corner of her desk. She folded her skinny arms across her pink leotard and said, “We’ve got a lot riding on this. If I don’t get my hands on those formulas, this club is ruined.”
    “What about Freddie Kruger? Has anyone seen his face lately?” They stared blankly at me. “Jack is rotting in prison. Leeza Robbins is in the hospital. Barney is dead. Me and my boyfriend broke up. All so you could make yourselves the richest women in New York? Sorry, but my motivation for helping isn’t quite clear.”
    Falcone said, “How about staying alive?”
    “You’ll kill me like Barney? Leave me bleeding in a hot tub with a knife in my chest? What’d he do to deserve that, anyway? Try to take over the operation? So like a man,” I tsked.
    Ameleth sputtered, “We didn’t kill Barney. I swear.” I didn’t believe her. “I loved him,” she added, tearing up.
    Janey said, “What do you mean Barney had a knife in his chest?”
    “Did I say that?” I asked. Falcone eyed me suspiciously.
    “We never recovered a murder weapon, Mallory,” she said dryly.
    I said, “He was stabbed—I assumed by a knife. You pick up on these things when you’re a private detective.” Janey put her head in her hands at the thought of the stabbing. With her face covered, her blond hair falling over her slender arms, it hit me. She was tall, muscular. Straight blond hair. “The one thing I don’t quite get is Leeza’s attack,” I said. “What did she have to do with any of this?”
    “Nothing,” Ameleth said. “Absolutely nothing.”
    “Precisely, Watson,” I said.
    Ameleth bristled. “My name is Bergen, not Watson. If Jack wanted some chump who’d change her name, he could have married Janey.”
    “I’m no chump,” Janey interrupted.
    “Sure you are,” I said. “Leeza was attacked from behind, by the way, Janey. Her teeth were knocked out when she fell face first into the Jacuzzi. From the back, you and Leeza have a pretty similar view. Maybe the attacker fucked up. After all, why would he or she hit someone who had nothing to do with nothing.” I twisted my mouth like I was trying to figure something out. “What exactly do you, Janey, have to do with this mess?”
    “Everything,” she whispered. She turned to see the guilt on Falcone and Ameleth’s faces. Slowly, obviously terrified, Janey backed out of the room. We watched.
    Falcone said, “Go ahead, Janey. We’ll find you.” Janey didn’t care. She jumped in the elevator at a run. It sunk with a