Free Skin Deep by Gary Braver Page B

didn’t want to talk about it.
    â€œWere you scared?”
    He didn’t remember. It had happened in a fog. He changed the subject.
    She had said she liked her job as a fitness trainer, especially the aerobics class because it kept her in shape. But she wanted to move on and had gotten accepted to Massachusetts School of Professional Psychology, which was why she was taking refresher courses. The older photos reminded him that when they had first met her hair was brown and cut shoulder-length with wispy bangs the way Dana wore her hair. And how she had resembled Dana.
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    As arranged, he met Alice Dion, the Kingsbury fitness director, and Bob Janger, the owner, in the lobby, a bright open area behind which stretched a bank of windows onto the main workout area. Dion was in her forties, with short black hair and a tan. She had a solid athletic build that spoke favorably of the dozens of machines on the other side of the glass. Janger, who reminded Steve of the actor Stanley Tucci, was a neat muscular guy with a shaved head and a shadow of where his hair used to be. He wore a blue club shirt and chinos, looking every bit like the owner of an upscale fitness club. They brought Steve to Dion’s office, a small cubicle with a desk and computer. With their permission, Steve tape-recorded their exchange.
    â€œThis is a terrible loss,” Janger said. “She’d been with us for three years, and she was terrific. Smart, motivated, and dedicated to her clients, and they loved her. She was one of our best trainers.”
    Dion nodded in agreement. “I still can’t believe it. She was very professional and a really fun person.” Her eyes filled up.
    â€œCan you think of anyone who’d want to harm her?”
    â€œNo, not a soul,” Dion said.
    Janger shook his head. “No one.”
    â€œDo you know if she was personally close to any of the club members, maybe even dating any?”
    â€œActually,” said Janger, “we have a hard-and-fast rule that the staff cannot become involved with club members. We had a problem in our first year, and since then it’s been written in stone: no dating clientele.”
    â€œTo what consequence?”
    â€œThey’d be fired, no questions asked.”
    â€œSeems like an effective deterrent.”
    â€œSo far so good.”
    â€œDo you know if she was seeing anyone?”
    â€œNot that I know of,” Janger said, and he looked to Dion.
    She thought for a moment. “She didn’t say much about her private life.”
    â€œSo, she never mentioned going out with anyone—a dinner or movie date or whatever?”
    â€œNot to me. But maybe to some of the other staff. Maybe Michelle San Marco. She’s one of the other aerobic instructors. She and Terry were pretty close, except she’s not in today. But I can give you her number.” And she jotted it down on one of her cards and gave it to him.
    â€œI’d also like a list of her clients over the last three years.”
    â€œSure,” Alice said, and turned to her computer and hit a few keys. In a few minutes her printer kicked into action. When it was finished, she handed him a printout of a few dozen names, most of them women’s.
    â€œIf you’ll bear with me I’d like to do some cross-checking.”
    â€œSure,” Dion said. “Can I get you something in the meantime? Coffee, water, soft drink?”
    â€œWater would be just fine, thanks.” Dion left, and Steve went down the list looking for matches to names from Terry Farina’s Rolodex—neighbors and friends the investigation had compiled. There were more than a hundred on the list, which he’d have to check for overlaps. But at a glance none jumped out but Neil French.
    When Dion returned, Steve mentioned that his partner had hired Farina.
    They both remembered him. “Big good-looking guy,” Janger said.
    â€œYes. She was his trainer for a