Free Treadmill by Warren Adler Page B

under no circumstances would he give up his workouts. Parrish would never allow him to do that. He jogged swiftly.
    It was a warm day and he was starting to perspire. Stopping briefly, he swabbed his forehead with his sleeve. At that moment a strange feeling came over him. Although he knew he was relatively alone and anonymous on the streets, he sensed that he was being watched. It was a sensation not unlike the night before when he abruptly saw a familiar face. He turned his head until his peripheral vision revealed the square blockhouse body of Melnechuck, wearing a knitted hat pulled low over his eyes. He resumed his jogging, Melnechuck still behind him, also jogging, but at a much slower pace than Cooper.
    Cooper entered the lobby of Bethesda. He showed his card, then suddenly became aware of someone coming in the door. It was Melnechuck. He nodded toward him, and Melnechuck nodded back. Cooper put his tote bag in his usual locker and went to the weight room. Beth also nodded to him as he came in, and he acknowledged her with his own. Blake wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Also missing was Anni Corazon, the Filipino woman. Sig Kessler was using the weight machines.
    As he ran on the treadmill, Cooper felt a certain strangeness taking possession of him. He remembered that Parrish was paid in cash. Obviously, Parrish himself also dealt in cash with Bethesda. They might not have recorded his payment, but if Parrish had joined another club, perhaps that club did keep accurate records.
    In the sauna, Kessler again tried to engage Cooper in conversation. Since he had finished his workout late, Cooper had expected, and hoped, that Kessler would be long gone.
    “Have you been coming here for awhile?” Kessler asked.
    “About six months,” Cooper replied, although he had no interest in being polite. Rudeness might shut the man up. Parrish’s disappearance had taught him that getting involved with people in the club could have untoward consequences. It was safer to stay uninvolved.
    Kessler patted his belly, which was slightly mounded.
    “Can’t seem to get rid of this,” he said.
    “Just keep at it,” Cooper said, cutting short his time in the sauna. He grunted a goodbye.
    Cooper sat at his place at the lunch counter and ordered a sandwich and a Coke. He had no illusions that he could escape the attention of Beth Davis. Not long after his sandwich arrived she was next to him. She ordered a cup of coffee.
    “I see your schedule is really loused up, Jack,” she said. “You were about an hour late.”
    “Still clocking me,” he sighed, showing no real desire to engage in the conversation. How else was he going to get her off his back?
    “Guess you had something more important to do,” she said. There seemed an edge of sarcasm in the remark and he turned to look at her. She smiled and her big eyes looked directly into his.
    Not sarcasm , he decided. Something worse, something proprietary. She was burrowing in.
    “I don’t see why it should be any concern of yours,” he said, biting into his sandwich. She nodded. “I know.”
    “You know what?” he snapped. “I really don’t get your concern about Parrish or your reasons for accosting me. I’m sorry if you think I’m rude, but that’s the way it is.”
    “In other words, you want me to get out of your face.”
    “I didn’t put it that way.”
    The woman paused, sucked in a deep breath, her nostrils flared. She was silent for a long moment, but when she began to speak again her demeanor underwent a change. Her concern was palpable.
    “You’re right, you don’t know why I should be worried,” she said. Her eyes had moistened.
    Oh God, not tears , he thought. Tears provoked sympathy, and sympathy provoked engagement. Engagement was the enemy.
    “If I said something hurtful, I apologize. I just don’t know why you…well…why you’re so persistent! If you haven’t noticed, I like my space! I like the way I’ve arranged my life!” Why was he telling her