Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned

sympathy.
    “Mrs. Platz, I’ve been through the same thing you’re going through now. I mean, finding a body.”
    Virginia Platz looked up from her own cup of tea I fixed for her. “Yes, I think someone mentioned you had found a…found someone as well.”
    “I did. I know what you’re going through. And I wish I could say you’ll forget about it soon, but you won’t. I haven’t, even though it’s been almost a year.”
    Mrs. Platz’s eyes filled with tears. “It was Bradley, not some stranger. Did you know the person you found?” Mrs. Platz asked tentatively.
    “Yes. Not very well, though. Just an acquaintance. But still…” I let my voice trail off.
    “I can’t talk to Roberta about it. She’s in enough pain.”
    “Did Mrs. Brissart go into the room when you found Bradley?”
    “After I screamed, Mr. Kaminski and Roberta both came running. Ralph got there first and after he saw what I saw, we tried to keep Roberta out. But she had to come in. Had to see for herself. We got her out of there quickly by telling her we had to get the police, and we shouldn’t disturb anything. But no one should see their beloved like that. No one.” Mrs. Platz’s voice softened to a whisper. She wiped at her eyes with a dishrag on the counter and looked up. “They will find who did this, won’t they?”
    “Yes. They will, Mrs. Platz,” I answered, hoping I spoke the truth. But looking at the woman I felt certain about one thing. Mrs. Platz had no part in killing Bradley or trying to kill Roberta. For beside sorrow and deep pain in the woman’s eyes, I saw something else. Fear.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

    From the outside, the modern two-story structure was deceiving. A large oak and two young maples framed the façade, and though the many windows lining the front wall were tinted, the poor souls entering through the double doors knew what they were in for. And most of them, except for the few guests, paid for the service.
    I parked under a small birch and took a purple canvas duffel bag from the trunk of my car. “I can do this,” I said as I walked into the Indian Cove Health Club. I hadn’t been here in almost two weeks and silently apologized to my muscles for the pain I was about to inflict.
    By the time I changed into a pair of baggy sweat shorts and a faded T-shirt, all the treadmills were in use. From my vantage point at the back of the large workout room, which gave me quick access to the next available treadmill, I picked up two hand weights and watched while a group of men lifted objects that weighed as much as my car. Blue veins appeared on their foreheads and necks, threatening to burst at any moment. I looked down at the two five-pound weights I held. There would be no popping veins on this body, I thought as the men heaved and gasped, sweat sliding down their faces onto chests barely covered by sleeveless T-shirts. My own muscles strained to keep from collapsing under the gravity of the weights while the rest of me strained to keep from giving in to gravity, period.
    Glancing at the still-occupied treadmills, I walked to a machine that worked the legs. I liked this one. I felt a sense of accomplishment whenever I used it. Across the room, by the hallway leading to the reception area, Steven Estenfelder stood talking with the young woman who taught the aerobics class.
    A few minutes later Ann came over to my machine. “Hi, Alex. Haven’t seen you here in a while.”
    “Oh, hi, Ann,” I said to the petite goddess who stood at my side. “No, I haven’t been in for almost two weeks. I really needed it today. I’m waiting for one of the machines to free up.” I motioned with my chin to the treadmills. “Was that Steven Estenfelder I saw you talking to?”
    Besides aerobics, Ann taught the yoga class. She stood next to me in a violet leotard that showed off her curvy figure and her beautiful skin, which always reminded me of milk chocolate. I wanted to ask her to move to the other side of the room so I wouldn’t feel so intimidated by her flawless figure. I suspected the men who took her classes liked watching her more than they liked the workout. Looking at Ann I knew no matter how many exercises I did, my boobs would never be firm little mounds again. A depressing thought if you dwelled on it too much, so I didn’t. I just bought better bras. I initially signed up for Ann’s classes but after a while I found I never had the time for them. Something always came up, but I also liked working