Page 30 of Killer Body

“What did it say?”

“Just that you were at the gym.” And that it was a good photo opportunity, I add to myself. Just enough information to intrigue the Tania Marie spotters.

“And now I’ll be on the front pages of all the tabloids again. And I’ll never have a chance at Killer Body.”

Anguish resonates from her. I have to ask, and not just because I’m looking for a story, “Why do you want it so much?”

“I can’t tell you.” She crosses her arms over the towel. “You might have helped me back there, but you’re still a reporter, and you’ll still screw me over if I give you a chance.”

“You have a low opinion of the press.”

“What would you have if you were in my position? What did I do that was so fucking horrible that you or anyone else wouldn’t have done?”

Fall in love with the wrong man. I’d done that once, just much less publicly than she. “I’m not trying to judge you, Tania Marie.”

“No, you’re just trying to get a story out of me, like everyone else.”

I stop at Patterson and steal a look at her. “Exploiting you isn’t my goal. That’s not the kind of stuff I write. I told you I wanted to know about Julie Larimore.”

“Why her?” She hugs the towel tighter, as if trying to protect herself from what I am asking. My instincts tell me that she might know something.

“Were you friends?”

“Not friends, exactly. No one could get too close to her.”

“How did you know her?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know that I got on the Killer Body program after everything broke loose.”

“After the stories about you and Marshall Cameron?”

“I was trying to take charge of my life. I needed something that worked fast. Someone at Killer Body thought there might be a place for me in the organization—not a position like Julie’s, of course. Just some kind of PR job. I’d lost some weight, and we thought I could be a Killer Body success story. Good for them, good for me.”

“And what happened?”

“Somebody screwed me over, of course. I never even got a chance to meet with Bobby Warren. His people told my people that I wasn’t right for the Killer Body image.”

“Perhaps that’s all it was.”

“No, it was sabotage. Everything was a go, and then it just stopped.”

“Do you think it was Julie?”

“At the time, yes. Then, later, I wasn’t so sure.”

“Why?”

“Nothing you’d understand. You’re not the kind of woman who understands anything she hasn’t experienced.”

“That’s a pat assessment.” I feel as if I’ve been physically attacked. I want to stop the car and tell her to get the hell out and walk her fat ass home if she has such a low opinion of me. Instead, I say, “I expected more of you.”

“I expected more of you, too. I told you I didn’t want to talk about how I met Julie. Why can’t you respect that?” She has a point. I’m crowding her on the one night she doesn’t need to be crowded.

“Okay. I hear you.” I drive for a moment, and the stillness in the car is louder than our arguments have been. “Who else at Killer Body did you have contact with?” I ask to break the silence.

“Just her. And hunky Lucas Morrison. He’s the one who finally said it was a no go. Then, after Julie disappeared, my agent tried them again, just for the hell of it, and it was Mr. Warren who said okay.”

I try to make sense of the scenario. I’ll need to talk to Lucas Morrison again, that’s for sure. And I’ll need to dig up everything I can about Julie Larimore.