Free Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9) by Vanessa Gray Bartal Page B

now that she’s gone.”
    Lacy tried not to gawk at him as
she studied his body. He wasn’t obese, by any stretch of the imagination, but
neither was he toned. He was sort of soft all over, a little doughy and saggy.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “After knowing her so long, you must have considered
her a friend.”
    “I’m not sure Jill had any friends,
but I appreciated her professionalism. And, I’m not going to lie, despite the
amazing transformation she worked on my physique, she wasn’t the only reason I
came to the resort. I love the pampering. And the skiing. It’s one stop
shopping. In fact, I’d have to say this is one of my favorite places on the
planet, and I’ve visited a few places since high school.”
    “You’ve blossomed into quite the
sophisticate,” Lacy said.
    “I don’t know about that, but I’ve
definitely expanded my horizons. Once I stopped caring about what other people
thought of me, I kind of grew into myself, you know? In addition to finding a
career, I took up some hobbies.” He nodded to an oversized sepia photograph on
the opposite wall. “I took that and donated it to the resort.”
    “It’s fantastic,” Lacy said. She
knew little about photography, but she knew enough to appreciate the picture.
It was a photo of a bridge in autumn. The way the wind bent the trees and swept
the leaves imbued a feeling of peace. “What else are you into?”
    “I still play the tuba, but since
that is still woefully unhip, I don’t tell many people. It’s relaxing to come
home at the end of a long day and play a few songs. What about you? What are
you up to? Are you and the guy serious?”
    “Kind of,” Lacy said. “You probably
wouldn’t believe me if I told you he was our school’s former quarterback. It’s
a real Breakfast Club kind of
situation.”
    “Ah, The Breakfast Club . Every lonely geek’s fantasy movie, and now
you’re living it.”
    “What about you?” she asked.
    “I’m still Anthony Michael Hall,”
he said.
    “No, I mean are you seeing anyone?”
    He took a breath and let it out
slowly. “No. For all my bluster about having come a long way, that’s the one
area I can’t seem to make any headway. Every time I come here, I leave feeling
like a million bucks, like I have the confidence to approach someone for a
date. But somehow I never do. And now without Jill to transform me…” He trailed
off and glanced at the opposite side of the room where a uniformed officer was
passing.
    “I wonder who did it,” Lacy mused.
    Snaps shifted uncomfortably and
sipped his cocoa.
    “What?” she asked. “Do you know
something?”
    “I don’t want to get anyone in
trouble. I feel like a tattle tale for even thinking about it.”
    “Snaps, this is a murder
investigation. If you know something, anything, you need to come clean.”
    “I’m not sure I know anything; it
was something I saw.”
    “What?” Lacy pressed.
    “Last night, after our session, I
saw Jill arguing with someone.”
    “Who?”
    “The pretty black masseuse, Uma or
Ulna or whatever her fake name is.”
    “You have to tell the police,” Lacy
said.
    “It was probably nothing. Jill
argued with everyone. Disagreement was like oxygen to her.”
    “I’m sure you’re right and it’s
probably nothing, but every little bit of information in an investigation helps
to paint a clearer picture. You have to tell the police what you know, the
sooner, the better.”
    “I guess,” he said, although he
still sounded reluctant. “I just don’t want them to think I’m some sort of
amateur sleuth sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
    “Yeah, they hate that,” she agreed.
    “Don’t tell me you’ve ever had any
contact with the police, Miss Goody-Goody. Even among choir kids you were
considered saintly.”
    “I may have filled out a police
report or two in my time,” she said.
    He drained his drink. “Can I get
you another?”
    She was still halfway through hers
and holding. Somehow it