“Heaven’s no.” Anita laughed. “My girls talk about it, how mysterious it is, how they can’t go up there.” Again she laughed. “We’ve all read gothic novels and have imaginations.”
“Then you’ll help me?”
Anita Hockhousen arose, walked away from her desk to look out a window. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?”
“I think I do, yes.” Her voice was small.
“I could be risking, not only money, but my reputation.”
“I’m sorry, Anita.” She could think of nothing else to say. Anita was only right. This was too big a favor.
Suddenly the woman laughed. “Somebody told me once how hard you are to refuse.” She turned back to DeeDee. “What the hell! Everyone loves a mystery.”
“Thank you, Anita. It will only be for a day or two.”
“There’s still a problem, DeeDee. All my girls are regulars, been with me a long time. They need the money. I can’t just-”
“I’ll pay twice what you do, no, make it $1,000, if someone gets sick for a week.”
Anita Hockhousen stared at her. “You really are serious, aren’t you?” She thought a moment. “I’m sure Susan would love the money and time off. She’s a maid, does light housekeeping, serves meals, drinks, that sort of thing.”
“She has the run of the house?”
”I assume she goes most anywhere, but-”
“When do I start?”
“Whoa, DeeDee. You’ll never pull it off. Too many people know you. The last thing you look like is a downstairs maid.”
“You’d be surprised how I can change my appearance. As for people recognizing me, who expects to find DeeDee Byerly in a maid’s uniform serving cocktails?”
“You may have a point.” She sighed. “Very well, but if Hildegard, the housekeeper, calls up and wants you replaced, there’s nothing I can do about it and you’re out your money.”
She waved that aside. “When do I start?”
“Tomorrow if you wish.”
“Too soon, I’m not ready.” She remembered Walt’s operation. Maybe she’d never be ready. “The day after. Where do I go?”
“I’ll give you a uniform. You meet here at 7 a.m., we drive you and the others out there.”
She hugged her. “Thank you, thank you, you’ve made my day.”
“I still have my doubts.”
“If anything goes wrong, it won’t come back to you.” She started for the door, then turned back. “Oh Lord, I almost forgot. Walter, that’s my husband, won’t let me go without him. Could you-”
“How is he at mowing, weeding, general handyman stuff?”
“He does that before breakfast.”
“I’ll give you overalls and an ID.”
“You’d better give us phony names. And thanks again for everything.”
“Personally I think you’ll both be sorry, but if you find any bodies in the tower let me know.”
Lupe entered Olympic Fitness on West Carrillo Street, second floor, and approached the attendant at the counter. It was the fifth gym on her list. “Does this man work out here?” She showed a photo of Harry Gould.
“Who wants to know?”
The blonde’s spandex was expanded and not just by muscles. Lupe worked out regularly and thought she was in good shape, but she did not look like this woman. The plastic man produced a body like hers. “I’m Detective Hernandez, Santa Barbara police.” She showed her gold shield. “Did you know Harry Gould?”
“He’s the guy what killed hisself, ain’t he?”
Grammar was not required with mammarian displays. “Yes.”
“Too bad, Harry was a good guy.”
“Then you knew him.”
“Sure, but him and me didn’t work out together or nothin’.” She stood on tiptoes, itself awesome, and looked around. “See that girl over there on the treadmill? She and Harry-well, I see them together often. Her name’s Kay Shelley.”
Lupe knew all eyes watched her walk across the room, literally sizing her up. She considered herself athletic. Softball and volleyball had kept her from quitting high school for a time. But she was too much a loner to make the gym scene. To her mind it was a place to be seen, sort of a muscle beach under roof.
Sweat glistened on the face and arms of Kay Shelley. She panted from her exertions, yet she was hardly muscular, indeed too thin. Could her workout be part of anorexia, suffer anything to lose weight? “Kay, I’d like a word with you when you finish your reps.”
She stopped at once. “Anything to avoid this torture. What can I do for you?”
The sweat was most noticeable about Kay Shelley. Everything else, hair, eyes, attitude, looked drab. Mousy could be her middle name. “I’m Lupe Hernandez with the city police. The girl at the desk tells me you knew Harry Gould.”
“I did, yes.” Her lips quivered and she looked away, then she snatched up a towel. “I’m…sorry he’s dead. I…miss him.”
“I gather you and Harry did more than workout together.”
“No, nothing like that. We never even dated, although we did have coffee once, after a workout.” She applied the towel to her arms. “I liked Harry and I had hopes…” She smiled wanly.
“I’m sorry.” She got out her notepad. “How often did you see Harry, here I mean?”
“Oh, two or three times a week, I suppose. We’d look for each other and work out together. But not always. Sometimes Harry came in with guys and worked out with them.”
“Do you remember any of their names?
“There was one guy, older, nice looking. ‘Course he may just have looked older because he had white hair. Harry never mentioned his name and I never asked. But I think he was a lawyer, like Harry. I figured they had business to discuss and didn’t bother them.”
Lupe scribbled. “When did you last see Harry?”
“The night he…died.”
“Do you remember the time?”
“Not exactly, I don’t wear a watch when working out. But we usually met about this time of day, five-thirty or so, maybe six, after work. I’m a paralegal, but not with Harry’s firm.”
“Was he alone, that last night?”
“Yes, he and I worked on weights, then came over here to the treadmill.”
“Did anything unusual happen?” Kay Shelley shook her head. “Did he say anything different or act strangely in any way.”
“No, Harry was his usual self, you know, kind of quiet, intense. That’s why he came here. Working out relaxed him.”
“Did he leave alone?”
“Yes.”
“What time was that?”
She looked at the clock on the wall, as though it could reveal time in the past. “Now that I think of it, he left early. He got a phone call-I guess you might say that was unusual.”
“He used a cell phone?”
“He didn’t have it with him, working out and all. I think he wanted to get away from the phone while here. I remember he was annoyed by the interruption.”
“Where did he go to take the call?”
“Over there at the desk, where Margo is.” She pointed. “It didn’t take long. When he came back he said he had to go back to his office.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“I don’t think so, he just went to the locker room and left.”
