Free 2 Dancing With Death by Liz Marvin Page B

brushed Betty off so rudely looked back at him in surprise and, Betty was pleased to note, just a touch of panic.
         “That would be wonderful,” she said with relief.
         George gestured to the side of the counter. “If you’d just step over here, Daphne can take the next guest.” He smiled. “And I know she’ll add just a touch more grace to her greeting.”
         Betty smiled at Daphne, who had now gone slightly pale. “Of course. Right away.” Clearly, she’d been caught shirking.
         Betty explained her problem to George. Unlike Daphne, he was much more sympathetic. He assured her that, even though the hotel’s wireless internet was down now, they had technicians working to fix the problem and it should be up and running soon. In the meantime, he’d see about arranging something else for her.
         Betty could have hugged him. The moment the hotel had internet again, she would be among the first to know. With that thought in mind, she was able to quell the small jolts of panic that were coursing through her system.
         “And in the meantime,” George said, “the first round of the ballroom dance competition doesn’t start for a few hours yet. Is there anything else I can show you? We have a spa, recreation room, the fitness area, and of course the pool.”
         Betty was about to thank him and go. After all, if she couldn’t do work maybe she could get a little more sleep. But she really should go do her morning workout. After discussions with her doctor and nutritionist, Betty had designed a 45-minute daily workout routine for herself. And yes, most mornings when she woke up she didn’t want to go. She was tired. She was achy. And she hated, hated, hated running!
         She hated the thought of uncontrolled diabetes more.
         On nights where she knew that she wouldn’t want to wake up in the morning, Betty had taken to sleeping in her workout clothes. It meant one less step, one less excuse in the morning. And now, looking at her outfit, Betty realized she had unconsciously chosen her work out clothes to wear.
         That was good. It meant she was developing a habit.
         It was also bad, because it meant she had no excuse to go up to her room and fall onto the bed for “just a moment.”
         Rats. Didn’t her diabetes know it was vacation? She was supposed to indulge in soft beds and amazing pillows (minus the stolen cash).
         “The fitness room would be great,” her traitor mouth said. George smiled. “Right this way.”
         Forty-five minutes of treadmills and rowing machines and weights later, Betty was relaxing in the sauna, letting the steam and heat sap the tension from her muscles. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall.
         Heaven. For a moment, Betty enjoyed the irony. If she stayed in this sauna too long, she could probably get heat stroke. And yet, mere yards away through walls and some windows a blizzard was raging.
         She breathed deeply, letting herself relax fully. The sauna door opened and shut, but after making sure she was completely covered by her towel Betty paid her company no mind. It wasn’t like anyone could see through this steam anyhow. It wasn’t until the conversation started that Betty realized that more than one person had joined her.
         “I can’t believe that woman!” one female voice with a New York accent exclaimed. “To pull the stunts she has, and then just show up here with her latest toy as though she owned the world. What a cold stone bitch!”
         Betty’s scandal ears, well-trained by years of exposure to the Gossiping Grannies of Lofton, perked up. It seemed the women didn’t realize they were alone, and Betty refused to pass up a chance to gather some information. She tried to breathe quietly and commit as much of the conversation to memory as possible. It might be something that could help Bill with the investigation.