A Body to die for

like that?”
    Alex shrugged, not really listening. He was staring at the full garbage can. I smiled, inside. I’d give him five more minutes before he’d break down and start cleaning. “Estoban gave me his theory about Watson,” Alex said finally. “Jack had a mental block and forgot how to play tennis. Kind of like when Eric Clapton got in that bad car accident and forgot how to play guitar? Jack knew he was supposed to know what to do, so he would walk through a few lessons. But when it came time to actually play a match, he choked.” The whole story was so sad, it made me want to help Jack more than ever. I wondered if women have taken care of him his whole life. There was something about him that was just so helplessly boyish. Even I felt an obligation to protect him.
    “So what caused this mental block?”
    “You’re the detective,” Alex said, rising from his chair. He stretched. Then he began circling the room. It took every fiber of strength in his body not to swoop down on that wastebasket and clean.
    I stood and said, “Bathroom.” My bathroom is down the hall. I left the office to take a leak. I’d give Alex his privacy. For him, cleaning up is an intensely personal experience.
    The bathroom was intended to be communal, except none of the other offices on the floor were occupied. I did my thing and crept back toward the office. I peeked inside and caught a glimpse of Alex on his hands and knees, vacuuming. Dear, predictable, reliable Alex. If he’d been ready to commit and I’d been easier to live with, we might be married right now. Then I never would have met Max. I perished the thought, and barged inside.
    Alex continued vacuuming without acknowledging me. I sat down at my desk. When he got to that area, I waited for him to ask me to move my feet. Finally, he said, “You take terrible advantage, Wanda.”
    “What of it?” I asked.
    “You’re a slut and a whore,” he said. We smiled at each other.
    “For a neat freak, you sure talk dirty.”
    Alex rubbed the large attachment under my desk. “I’ve got a brilliant idea—not that all my ideas aren’t brilliant,” he said over the sucking sound. “I volunteer to go undercover. I will wear gym shorts and a T-shirt that shows off my bulging pectoral muscles. I’ll wear tube socks and cross-trainers. And, I’ll wear sweat bands on my forehead and wrists.”
    “Yeah, but what’s in it for you?” I asked. Alex rarely does anything without an ulterior motive. “Like you’ve got bulging pectoral muscles.”
    “We’ll see how the ladies of the club feel about them,” he said, revealing his motive.
    “Fine with me,” I said. “The last thing I want to do is surround myself with impossibly toned women in skimpy outfits all day long. Like I need that kind of ego boost.”
    “Boost?” Alex asked pointedly. I wanted to slug him. “I’ll work out with Max. I’m sure he can show me a thing or two. He can point out a few of the more compelling attractions. About exercising, I mean.” That comment knocked around my brain like a ricocheting pool ball. Alex sometimes makes me so mad. I said, “How come you get jealous of Max all the time, but he never, ever gets jealous of you?” I regretted my retort immediately. I’d much rather ignore the weirdness of the situation—still working with Alex, I mean. We broke up two years ago for Christ’s sake—and he dumped me. The room was silent for a moment, except for the klink of the vacuum sucking up a few stray paper clips. I allowed myself to think about how jealous I got about Max and Leeza. Then I pushed the guilt from my mind.
    “Okay, you’ll pretend to be a new member at the club,” I agreed. “We should probably pay for the membership. Jack doesn’t need to know every move we make.” I generally hated to lay out my own money as expenses, but I didn’t have a choice in this case. Besides, I wasn’t completely convinced of Jack’s innocence. I liked the idea of having one up on him. I’d rather have two. I wondered if Leeza would even think about helping me. Probably not after the way I treated her.
    “Okay, Alex. Max does get jealous of you,” I lied. “But only because you’re a slut and a whore.”
    “You wish,” he said, smiling. I felt a lifting of tension. The vacuuming now done, Alex put the machine back into the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. He then pulled out the rag and can of furniture polish.
    I got his attention by taking the