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Scarlett followed her gaze and frowned.“Poor girl. Not only did she lose her dad but now it’s just her and that stepmom of hers. Must be pretty tough.”

“Well, I don’t care how tough it is,” said Vesta. “I’m done working for free. If I ever take a case again I’m asking top dollar. Paid in advance.”

“You can’t expect that girl to pay top dollar for us to find her daddy’s killer, Vesta. That just wouldn’t be right.”

Vesta took a swig from her cup of hot chocolate, trying to drown out the foul smell of Scarlett’s herbal tea with the sweet aroma of her chocolate delight. “We’re not even sure her dad was killed,” she reiterated. “As far as I’m concerned this whole thing’s been nothing but a wild goose chase. And you know what else I think?”

“No, what?”

“That girl has been playing us for a bunch of fools. I’ll bet she knows exactly what happened that night. And this whole thing…” She made a vague all-encompassing gesture. “Is nothing but a smokescreen.”

“A smokescreen? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Vesta admitted. “But whatever it is, I don’t like it. We’ve been used, Scarlett. Used and abused.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“And I’m sure I’m not. Just you mark my words. This isn’t over. Not by a mile.”

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Rose had arrived at the gym and discovered that a closed sign hung on the door. She placed her hands against the glass and peered inside. If the person who sent her that text was inside, she didn’t see them. And as she tried the door handle, she discovered it was unlocked. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed inside and found herself in the club’s reception area. The lights were out, and it was a little dark inside. She swallowed away a feeling of uneasiness and said, in a small voice, “Hello? Anybody here?”

When no response came, she ventured deeper into the club, past the turnstile that easily yielded to pressure and now found herself in the club proper, where a host of workout machines stood deserted, the place devoid of its usual hustle and bustle of people groaning and sweating and of loud music pumping from the speakers.

Once more she called out,“Hello?” and when no reply came, she decided that maybe she better wait outside.

And that’s when she saw it. Her first glimpse was through the large mirror that covered an entire section of wall. A man was lying on his back on one of the benches placed under a weightlifting machine.

“Oh, hi,” she said, as she quickened her step to join the man. “Did you send me that message, sir?”

It was only when she’d crossed the floor and reached the man that she saw that it was none other than the club’s manager, Jared Zmuda, dressed in his usual fluorescent shorts and Iron Man tank top. His eyes were wide, his features contorted into an expression of surprise. His surprise may well have been related tothe heavy metal bar that was pressing down onto his throat.

It took only one look at the man’s face to know that he was dead.

Chapter 23

“Max?”

“Mh?”

“Do you have any ideas for good deeds?”

“Why? Have you run out of ideas?”

“Kinda. The day is almost over and I haven’t done my good deed of the day yet. And now I’m starting to worry.”

“Why? What do you think will happen when you don’t do a good deed today?”

“I’m not sure, but it probably won’t be good.”

I gave my friend a reassuring smile.“Look, Dooley,” I said, “this good deed thing is something you choose. Nobody is forcing you to do it. So when you skip a day nobody is going to be upset with you.”

He gave this some thought, then said,“Are you sure, cause it feels like someone will.”

“Nobody is holding you accountable, Dooley. If you don’t do a good today you can do one tomorrow, or not.”

“Or I could do two good deeds tomorrow. One for today and one for tomorrow.”

“Sure. You can do whatever you want.”

He looked absolutely relieved at this, and frankly so was I. This good deed stuff had begun to give me cause for concern. If he was going to keep running in front of cars and clear out movie theaters we were in for a rough ride.

We were stretched out on the rug, having a relaxing time. Odelia and Chase were in the kitchen preparing dinner, and next to us Harriet and Brutus were also lying on the new rug Odelia had bought. It was a nice rug, one of those high-pile ones that are just heaven to dig your claws into. Which is probably why Odelia had forbidden us to do just that. She hadn’t said anything about not lying on the rug, though, even though I could see a rug ban in our near future, seeing as how cat hair has a tendency to stick and is hard to get out of those high-pile rugs, even with the best vacuum cleaner on the market.

But for now we were all enjoying this leisurely time.

“What’s all this about good deeds?” asked Harriet now.

“Oh, Dooley saw this thing on television about boy scouts being required to do a good deed a day and he figured he wants to become a cub scout and try the same.”

“A cub scout, huh?” said Brutus. “And what, may I ask, is a cub scout, Dooley?”

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