Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9) Read Online Free Page B

know who
ith ready to get thkinny,” Sven said. Lacy raised her hand. She was the only
one.
    “I’m here for the massages,” Kimber
said.
    “I want a mud bath,” Frannie said.
    “I want to sleep,” Riley said.
    “We’re here to ski,” one of Tosh’s
sisters said.
    “You’re dithmithed, have a
wonderful vithit at Torthten Rethort,” Sven said before focusing his crystal
blue eyes exclusively on Lacy. “Lookth like it’th jutht you and me. What’th
your name, thweetheart?”
    “Joan,” Lacy said. She hadn’t meant
to lie, but she couldn’t hear him call her “Lathy” all weekend and keep a
straight face, she just couldn’t.
    “All right, Joan, begin with
thith.” He handed her a large glass of dark green liquid. Where had it come
from? Had he been holding it the whole time? The lack of answers made the
potion seem more magical.
    “What is it?” Lacy asked in an awed
whisper. She took a sniff, but it didn’t smell like anything.
    “I will anthwer thith quethtion and
then no otherth: thith ith juithe. It will invigorate and detoxth you. And from
now on, you will trutht my judgment completely. Do we have a deal?”
    “We have a deal, Sven,” Lacy said
and downed the juice. It was bad, but she’d had worse. In her current
self-flagellating mood, the green goo rather cheered her. At least she was
being proactive in her move to get her body back under control.
    “Let’th get thtarted with our
extherthithe.”
    “Now?”
    “Now, and don’t complain. You could
have it worthe—you could have Jill.”
    “Who is Jill?” Lacy asked.
    “You’ll thee,” Sven said, his tone
sounding ominous.
    A half hour later, Lacy knew who
Jill was. She was Snap’s trainer, unfortunately for him. While Sven liked to
pretend he was a mystic who had somehow conjured the secrets to a smoking hot
body, Jill took the drill sergeant approach. She yelled at Snaps who proved
that he had grown in the years since high school. There had been a time many
years ago when one negative word from his choir teacher had sent Snaps into a
torrent of tears. Lacy could remember distinctly the time he missed a note and
ran off stage—his scoliosis brace snapping in time to his sobs. And now,
while being called a pathetic slob by an attractive fitness instructor, he
maintained his smile and even managed a cheery wave at Lacy.
    “You know him?” Sven asked.
    “An old pal from high school,” Lacy
said.
    “What’th hith name?”
    “Tim,” Lacy lied. She couldn’t hear
him called, “Thnapth,” not when she was trying to lift half her weight in
kettlebells. Besides, for all she knew Snap’s real name might be Tim. No one
had ever taken the time to find out.
    “Feel the bad vibeth thlipping away
ath you exthale,” Sven whispered as Lacy did rep after rep. She was going to
giggle, and then she would drop the weight on her foot and crush it. She tuned
Sven out and focused on Jill.
    “Come on you roly-poly mealworm.
Pedal, pedal, pedal. Pretend there’s a doughnut at the end of this ride. Do it,
do it, do it,” she shouted to poor Snaps who was already pedaling at such a
furious pace he was wheezing. He had asthma, Lacy remembered. She hoped he was
carrying his inhaler. With the way Jill was working him, he was going to need
it.
    “Time for thquaths,” Sven said,
interrupting her reverie. These he did with her, only he felt compelled to yell
the word, “THQUAT!” every time they reached the crouching position until Lacy
thought she might explode if she didn’t find an outlet for her suppressed
snickers.
    She put up her hand. “Can I have a
bathroom break, please?”
    “Ath long ath you thwear you’re not
going to thtuff your fathe with thomething,” Sven said.
    “No way,” Lacy said. The words “I
thwear” had almost popped out. She would have to be extremely careful about
what she said in case she accidentally adapted his manner of speech. He would
never believe she wasn’t making fun of him. Worse, she