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8
KICK START FITNESS was not crowded when Cora arrived, but that was to be expected for lunchtime on a Monday. There were some die-hard weight lifters who looked like they worked out for a living, a few runners on the treadmills, and three women at the smoothie bar in yoga clothes. Cora knew the upscale gym filled up after business hours, and later in the evening it would be hopping with people. On her own, she’d have chosen to go when the likelihood of interviewing more people who knew Lindsey was higher, but Finn seemed to think the girl in charge of the photo collage was a close friend of hers, so it was worth a shot.
“Hey, all right, all right. Awesome.” A man with cropped blond hair approached, clapping and grinning. Cora recognized him immediately. With the jaunty spring in his step, the purple gym polo, and the deep suntan, Brad was the ultimate gym evangelist, and exercise was his religion. He lived to convert all the wayward souls who hadn’t yet seen the light, one lazy body at a time. As the lead personal trainer, he’d already done his best to lure Liam and Cora through the pearly gates of Kick Start Fitness, all for the low, low price of two hundred and fifty-nine dollars plus tax, but he hadn’t succeeded.
“Hello again, Brad.”
“You’re back,” he said with an enthusiastic handshake. “Couldn’t stay away, could you? It’s that special we’ve got going on. We’ve been slammed with new members.”
“Actually, I’m here to meet my friend Finley Walsh.”
Brad paused to consider the name, then bobbed his head. “Tall, triathlon guy, right? Brown hair? He usually only comes on the weekends, but I did see him come in today.”
Cora hesitated. She had no idea if Finn was into triathlons, but at this point, she wouldn’t be surprised. “He said he’d be at the pool.”
“Yup, sounds like him. Here, let me give you a free day pass. That way, you can check out the facility after you’re done meeting up with your buddy. Who knows? Maybe you’ll change your mind about joining.” He pointed a finger at Cora and winked. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”
Cora signed her name on the guest form, thanking Brad before heading down to the pool. She spotted Finn standing outside the men’s locker room with a towel slung over one shoulder. He was talking to a young woman in a racerback swimsuit and running shorts.
“Cora,” he said in surprise, hastily finger-combing his damp hair. “I was just heading upstairs to put you down as my guest.”
“No need.” She gestured to the plastic card on a lanyard around her neck. “Brad gave me a free day pass.”
“Uh-oh. That comes with strings attached,” the woman said with amusement. “He’s going to make you sit through his spiel about the benefits of joining. My advice? Find someone to create a diversion so you can sneak out when he’s not looking.”
Cora grinned. “I’ve already gone through a partial spiel, so hopefully it won’t come to that.”
“I’m Jenna,” the woman said. They shook hands as Finn made introductions.
“Jenna was on Lindsey’s workout team,” Finn said. “She’s the one who made the photo memorial over there.”
Cora glanced at the opposite wall to find a large bulletin board filled with snapshots of Lindsey Albright.
Finn excused himself to check his messages while Jenna led Cora to the poster board. Cora was surprised to find so many pictures of Lindsey outside of the gym. “These are from all over the place, not just Kick Start Fitness.”
“Yeah, I contacted her parents on Facebook,” Jenna said, standing beside Cora to look at the colorful collage of photographs. “I told them I wanted to make a memorial poster for her, and they kindly forwarded my request to Lindsey’s contacts. It’s really great how everyone came together. So many people sent me snapshots.”
Sadness crept over Cora as she studied all the pictures from the vivacious young woman’s life. There was a picture of Lindsey as a baby with her parents at the beach, and one of her with a gap-toothed smile graduating kindergarten. There was a picture of her carving a pumpkin for Halloween, a shot of her with a fluffy dog in the snow, and one of her on water skis as a young teen. There were several photos of her at summer camp, with friends ice-skating, and with her cheerleading squad in high school. There were snapshots of her in her college surrounded by friends at a football game, blowing out birthday candles, and standing in a field of tall grass with her head tipped back, laughing. It struck Cora, once again, how utterly unimaginable it was that someone so full of life, so filled with boundless energy and joy and love, could be alive one moment and gone the next. It brought into stark relief the magnitude of the crime committed against her, and it made Cora all the more determined to find justice for both her and John Brady.
“She was such a fun, vivacious person,” Jenna said sadly. “I only knew her from our time working out at the gym, but she was always quick to laugh and so supportive. I really miss her good energy here. Our whole team does. It’s hard to believe someone would want to hurt her...” She trailed off and swiped at her eyes, unable to continue.
“I’m sorry,” Cora said. “We’re going to do everything we can to find out what happened. Can you remember anything strange she might have said? Anything at all, no matter how small.”
Jenna shook her head. “We mainly talked about our Booty Busters team so we could win the workout challenge.”
“Did she ever mention friends?” Cora asked. “Her boyfriend?”
“I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend until he emailed me that picture,” Jenna said, tilting her chin to the photo board.
Cora searched the collage as Jenna pointed to a half-hidden picture in the corner. It was an image of Lindsey grinning under a streetlamp at night, her hair a tousled mess. Cora peered at it closely, recognizing it was a selfie. A shiver of awareness skittered down her spine, and she unpinned the photo from the board to scrutinize it.
“Her boyfriend said it was the last photo she ever sent him,” Jenna said wistfully.
Cora’s heart began thumping wildly. The picture was taken in front of John Brady’s house. She recognized his front door in the upper left corner. “Are there any more like this?”
“I don’t know,” Jenna said, staring at the picture. “It’s the only one he sent. You could ask him. His name is Slice.”
“Yes,” Cora said quickly. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. She remembered the day Lindsey had gone to the police station claiming to have a photograph from the night of John Brady’s murder. Apparently, she’d taken a selfie in front of his house, and there were blurry images of people in his window. She’d thought the photo could be helpful, but it turned out to be a dud. But if Slice had more photos taken on this night, maybe there was another picture. A better angle. Maybe there’d be something in the background that would actually be helpful. Again, it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.
