Girl Undercover 1, 2 & 3: Three-Part Bundle Page 10

  He must have really good genes to look like that, I thought. Or maybe he had used some form of plastic surgery.

  When I met with him tomorrow for his evaluation session and we went over his health history, I’d work in some questions to determine what his secret was. Maybe he’d show me a photo of his parents. If no plastic surgery was involved, one or both of them must look amazing still.

  Before I left the locker room, I texted him back: Sure, tomorrow at eleven is good. Please meet me by the fitness desk then.

  I instantly received a reply: Great, thanks. Looking forward to it!

  I frowned when I noted that he’d added a winking smiley face after his message.

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he flirting with me? That had better not be the case. I prayed he was just a weird dude who liked to use smileys. Considering how crazy he was, it wouldn’t be surprising. Whatever it meant, I was not about to respond with a perky “likewise” or something similar because I was so not looking forward to it. Instead, I put my phone back deep into my pocket and left the locker room.

  The day went by quickly. I trained a couple of members I met during my floor shift and got one to agree to continue training with me. That would be the fifth client I’d picked up in the two weeks I’d been working the floors at the club. Rolf, my fitness manager, called me into his office and told me he would drop one of my shifts the following week since I was picking up clients so quickly.

  Rolf’s behavior further spoke to the fact that The Adler Group was not some evil corporation that worried about me uncovering their secret, unsavory experiments with humans. If they were, their managers would hardly be treating me this well, offering to drop a shift this fast. A new trainer usually kept all floor shifts for at least the first month of employment.

  The people at Adler were clearly happy with me and my performance.

  It was more likely that Felix Bose was tied to Cardoza somehow—even if the name Bose sounded a lot more German than Hispanic.

  I walked down to the cafeteria for a late lunch around three and spotted Ariel, one of the old trainers, as soon as I entered it. She sat down at one of the open tables, facing me.

  When I had seen that this pretty, thirty-something woman was still working at the club, I hadn’t been surprised. She was not only an efficient, great trainer with lots of clients, but she also looked the part with her curvy, super tight body and long, honey blond hair that flowed down her back. She and I used to not get along when I’d first gone undercover. I, like all the other trainers, had truly believed this woman was a psychopath she had been so determined to become the club’s number one trainer. But toward the end of my assignment, I’d gotten to know her and discovered that she was in fact quite nice, not psycho at all.

  She remained as unfriendly as ever, though, and hadn’t welcomed me to the club like so many of the other trainers had done. Which was totally fine by me. As long as it didn’t seem like she recognized me, I wasn’t about to complain.

  Unfriendly or not, I wished I could ask Ariel if I could join her for lunch. Being part of the old crew and brutally honest, she could fill me in if there was anything fishy going on with the club’s new owners. Emma wasn’t enough; after our last conversation, I seriously doubted I could trust she was telling me the truth. But it would be too risky to approach Ariel.

  Ariel apparently had other plans because she looked up as I was about to pass her and gave me a nice smile.

  “Hi, you’re one of the new girls, right?”

  I had no choice but to stop at her table. “Yes, I am. I started a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I’m Ariel. Welcome to Nikkei. You’ll love working here. What’s your name?”

  “Jamie. Jamie Richards.”

  “Are you eating, Jamie?”

  “Yes, I was just about to go get a salad.”

  “Why don’t you sit with me? I’m eating too.”

  The way she was gazing up at me under heavily mascaraed eyelashes told me she wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I said, “Sure. Do you want something from the café?”

  She shook her head and grabbed her big, pink bag. “No, thanks, I’m good. I made vegetable lasagna yesterday and brought some to eat today.” She pulled out a fork and a blue Tupperware container from her bag and put both on the table.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back,” I said and headed to the salad counter, thrown by her unusual friendliness. In my experience, people didn’t change much. The reason for her behavior must be because she wanted something. I had no idea what that could be. Well, I guess I would soon know, I thought. I really had no choice but to eat with her now or I would appear weird, not to mention rude. Being rude to Ariel would surely work against me.

  The line to order food was not nearly as long as usual, so I had my salad within minutes. I got some water from the water cooler and returned to her table.

  She smiled as I sat down again, grabbing her fork with a hand that had long, claw-like, blood-red nails.

  “I wanted to tell you that I love your workouts,” she said and pushed lasagna onto her fork. “I’ve watched you on the floor. You’re impressive. We should work out together some day.”

  Was us working out together the reason she wanted to have lunch with me? I had a hard time buying that. It was more likely that she had recognized me and was about to say something about it. Especially considering how she was staring at me at the moment. Oh, God, that is the last thing I need. Well, I’d just deny it. It wasn’t like she could prove I was Annika. It would be okay, I told myself and smiled at Ariel. “Thanks. Yeah, I like to go hard when I work out. That way I can eat a lot more.”

  “I’ll say. You must be burning like 1,500 calories during your workouts.”

  “Yeah, let’s hope so or I’ll get fat soon as much as I love to eat. Hey, whatever happened to Clayton who used to work here? I knew him when I was a member here two years ago. He was such a nice guy.” I might as well try to pump her for some information while sitting here.

  Ariel nodded slowly. “Ohh… That’s why I feel like I’ve seen you before. You used to be a member here!”

  “Yeah, for about six months before I returned to New Mexico for a while,” I quickly confirmed, so relieved to be able to give a plausible reason for why she felt like she knew me. I should fuel that convenient belief of hers. “I was supposed to do a session with you actually. But then I had to go back home, so I had to cancel.”

  Ariel pushed out her pink-glossed lips that looked even poutier than I could remember, making me think they’d been surgically enhanced the way her huge, gravity-defying breasts must have been. Despite their size, they stood straight out and the small workout top she wore did nothing to support this impressive feat.

  “Yeah, I think I remember that you and I were supposed to train,” she said, still nodding.

  “Thankfully, we can now work out together instead,” I said. “So Clayton quit then?”

  She gazed at me with a serious face. “I’m pretty sure he got fired. If you ask me, it’s not strange as annoying as he was.”

  “What do you mean?” I leaned closer to Ariel, so pleased she’d asked me to join her now.

  “He was always questioning the new owners and how they wanted to run the club, claiming it wasn’t going to work and that it would end with all the members quitting. His attitude was so negative even his clients began to leave him. I honestly don’t understand why he was complaining so much. There was a reason Millennium had to sell the company—they weren’t making a profit. Adler might be stricter and expect more out of all the trainers, but they also offer more in return. For example, as soon as they took over, everyone got a ten percent salary increase and access to great health insurance. When Millennium owned the club, only the top three trainers had insurance. That’s a huge improvement. They also lowered the prices on training packages, making it easier for us trainers to pick up and keep clients.”

  So far, what Ariel was sayin
g made a lot of sense; the former owners’ health insurance offerings had been terrible. I had also noted that the training packages were slightly more affordable these days, which did make it easier to acquire new clients. I wasn’t sure about the salary. We were definitely paid more, but part of that could be explained through normal wage inflation. It was clear, though, that Ariel was happy with the change. As happy as Emma.

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, I’m glad I got hired now then. Everyone who works here does seem happy to be here. And management is great. Especially Rolf.”

  Ariel had a sip of her water. “Yeah, I love him. He’s great. And so is everyone else. As long as you do your job, this is a great company to work for.”

  “That’s so reassuring to hear.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that a newscast was airing on the large TV hanging from the ceiling a few feet away from us. The anchor seemed to be talking about a dead man found somewhere. I turned my face toward the TV to get a better look:

  “…a woman walking her dog found the man lying in the grass behind some trees next to the loop that runs around all of Central Park. Police arrived at the spot near the Belevedere Castle where the woman had nearly stumbled over the man. The man was pronounced dead upon arrival and had a gunshot wound to the head. He was Caucasian with short, black hair, of medium size, and in his late twenties, early thirties. His identity has not yet been released. He is believed to have been murdered. The NYPD is investigating the matter.”

  The anchor moved on to a story about a demonstration in downtown Manhattan.

  “Wow,” Ariel gasped, still staring at the TV. “What’s going on? It’s just one murder after another up here in our neighborhood. I thought this was supposed to be a safe area.” She turned to me. “Did you hear that one of our members was raped and beaten to death yesterday? She was the third woman found up here in just a few weeks.”

  “Yeah, I did see that on the news earlier today. It’s horrible.” I tskd. “I’m surprised the authorities haven’t announced there is a serial killer on the loose up here. That’s what it sounds like to me since it’s believed it’s the same person assaulting these women.”

  Ariel pulled out her phone from her bag and began typing on it. I watched her, wondering if maybe she was texting a client. She soon looked back up, her almond-shaped eyes round suddenly. “I knew it. Belevedere Castle is right where I live. Like only a couple of blocks away.”

  “Really? Let’s hope the guy they found was the person behind the rapes. Maybe someone was onto him and shot him.”

  “Yeah, one can only hope,” Ariel said morosely, back to typing on her phone.

  I had no doubts the dead man who had just been reported was the same one who had assaulted me yesterday. Belevedere Castle was located exactly where Felix Bose had jumped me. Who knew, maybe Felix had planned on raping me before killing me? It hadn’t seemed like it at the time, but it was still possible.

  I thought about what I’d learned about the rape victims. Two had been found in their homes, tied to their beds, but one had been found tied up in Riverside Park. All had the same sperm in their bodies, suggesting the perp was either stupid or extremely confident he wouldn’t be found. And all of them had been beaten to death.

  Bose had had a gun.

  I screwed up my face. Well, just because Bose had used a gun on me didn’t mean he was also going to use that to murder me. It might only have been there to make me do what he’d wanted—get me to move behind the trees where no one could see us. Unless he had a silencer on his gun like Ian had, shooting me to death would be a lot noisier than beating me to death. With a cloth stuffed into my mouth, no one would hear me scream if someone happened to pass by—which was unlikely that late in the evening anyway.

  I honestly had no clue what Felix Bose had wanted to do with me.

  Ariel looked up from her phone. “It’s definitely time for me to get that dog I’ve been thinking of getting now.”

  “That’s a good idea. What kind are you planning on getting?”

  “A German Shepherd.”

  I nodded and was about to tell Ariel that it was an excellent choice. German Shepherds were very obedient and easy to train, which was why they were so popular with the police. But before I could put my foot in my mouth, I caught myself and just smiled.

  “You should get it as soon as possible,” I said instead. “One can’t be careful enough these days.”

  Chapter 2

  The following day Ian and I walked up to the sixth floor at Nikkei to fill out his health history, assess his fitness levels, and do a full-body movement screen so I could design his workouts.

  Instead of dreading this meeting, I had become eager to see what more I would learn about him. I also wanted to know if he had found any information about Felix Bose; surely he must have looked.

  I had spent most of last evening searching for the dead man online and found nothing. It was as if he had never existed there were so few hits about a Felix Bose who looked like the one who had pushed a gun to my ribs. I tried all kinds of word combinations in my searches, including Felipe Cardoza and The Adler Group, but nothing of use had popped up.

  “Here we go,” I said to Ian and held the glass door for him so he could enter the room where the trainers did the initial consultation with new clients.

  He looked hesitant for a moment, but then entered.

  “Please have a seat in that chair,” I said and indicated one of the two chairs in the small space, having fully entered my trainer persona. While he sat, I took a seat in the other chair that faced him.

  He leaned back, put his hands behind his head and slung a foot over his knee, looking a little too comfortable for my taste. I gazed down at the health questionnaire attached to the clipboard on my lap, then back at Ian. He hadn’t bothered to shave this morning, adding to his casualness.

  “When are you born?” I asked.

  He told me his birthdate and added, “I’m an Aries.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Okay, good to know, I suppose.”

  “What are you?” He leaned forward and put a hand on my knee. “Wait, don’t say anything. You’re a Libra, aren’t you?”

  I looked down at the hand on my knee and frowned meaningfully. Who did he think he was? He instantly removed his hand and leaned back into his chair again.

  “I apologize,” he said. “I have a tendency to get a bit touchy feely sometimes. But I was right, wasn’t I?”

  Actually, he was and it pained me a little having to admit it. “Yes, I’m a Libra.” I gave him a smirk. “But I don’t see what that has got to do with you. This meeting is supposed to be about you only.”

  “You’re right. What’s the next question?”

  I asked him questions regarding his heart and lungs, then moved onto questions regarding his eating and sleeping habits. Based on what he told me, he ate well and slept sufficiently.

  “And how about alcohol?” I asked. “How many drinks a week do you have? That can be beer, a glass of wine or a shot of hard liquor.”

  “Two to five. It really depends on what I’m doing that week.” He looked me straight in the eyes, as if defying me. I pretended not to notice. Obviously, he was lying. There was no way he drank that little, being an alcoholic. A functioning alcoholic, but still an alcoholic.