A Body to die for

ass down those stairs.” And Max could damn well do it, he didn’t bother to say. He slowly walked to the door and closed it behind him. He probably had his ear pressed against the dead bolt.
    “You know that spot you worked on earlier? On my back. Under my shoulder blade. It still hurts.”
    I pointed over my shoulder at the spot. Freddie rolled his brown eyes, and began rubbing. “I want you to know that the only reason I threatened you today was to scare you,” he said. “I wanted to see if you’d talk under pressure.”
    “The only thing I do under pressure is cook.” His fingers were divine. “And despite the fact that your fingers are like the golden rods of Olympus, I know that you’re not a massage therapist. At least not in any official capacity at the Western Athletic Club.”
    “Janey is a friend,” he said cryptically. “And I am a real massage therapist.” He untwisted my muscle knot like a sailor. “The big lie I told you was that Barney and I were buddies.”
    My spine crackled under his palms. I said, “Ooh, that’s good.” I might have been too vocal in my praise. The apartment door slammed open. Max’s impressive body loomed in the door frame.
    “What’s this?” he asked, seeing Freddie’s hands at my back.
    “An open exchange of information and ideas,” I said. “And a little back rub on the side.”
    “Take your hands off her,” Max demanded of Freddie.
    Max hated to give me back rubs. The way he gets out of this boyfriendly duty is to squeeze my shoulder muscles too hard. I tell him to lighten up, and then he stops, claiming to be unable to please me. I said, “Either Freddie or you, honey.”
    “I think I hear Syd calling me,” Max said and disappeared into the hall again.
    Freddie stopped rubbing. “I don’t feel comfortable with this,” he said, staring at the closed door. “Maybe I should go.”
    “I know why you came up here. Besides the fact that I sort of invited you,” I said. “Freddie Smith isn’t your real name.”
    “I’m amazed,” he said like he wasn’t.
    “Well?” I asked.
    “Kruger,” he said. “Freddie Kruger.”
    “I can see why you lied.”
    “Oh, I don’t usually lie. But I didn’t want you to know my name, depending on what you already knew about me in connection to Barney. And Smith was the first thing I thought of.”
    “Not Jones?” I asked.
    “Okay, so it’s not the most inventive. I’m a massage therapist, not an advertising copywriter.”
    I forced a smile. “I wouldn’t have believed Kruger either.”
    “Few do. I’m president of a support group for people with negatively associated names. Vice President Daumer and Secretary Harding have it worse than I do.”
    “I’m sure.” I checked my watch: late. “Look, Freddie, let’s cut to the chase here. I know you’re the scientist Barney and Ameleth commissioned to work on the chromium compound for losing weight.” Freddie looked perplexed. He said, “The what?”
    “Like you don’t know. Ameleth as much as told me it was you.” Actually, Ameleth told me nothing of the sort, but I hadn’t bluffed someone for information in hours.
    Freddie shook his head. “Ameleth Bergen and I don’t even know each other. I doubt she’s ever laid eyes on me. Barney was the one I knew. He hardly even talked about Ameleth. And when he did, it wasn’t terribly flattering.”
    I searched his eyes for a lie. He had to be the one. Why else would he be trying to figure out what I knew? “What is it you’re so busy trying to protect?”
    He thought for a moment. “What the hell is a chromium compound? Is it some kind of militant fat farm? Is this something one might consider to be a healthy investment?”
    “Forget that,” I said, almost convinced he had nothing to do with it. “Tell me all about you and Barney. And after we talk about that, I’d like you to step into my kitchen.” Provided that I can unearth a sharp knife in this mess, I would ask him to demonstrate how quickly he could slice bread. I hoped Max wasn’t bored out in the hall. I added quickly, “And I think Max should come inside now.”
    “No!” Freddie said. “I’ve seen him at the club. For all I know, he’s a member.”
    “Of course he’s a member.”
    “I mean a member of the club within the club,” said Fred. I was confused. I hate it when that happens. “Ah, yes,” I said. “That club.” I nodded knowingly. “For the record, the whole thing was Barney’s idea. He only