Page 37 of The Perfect Poise

“Well,” Ryan said, “this is all very useful information. We’re going to go talk to him now. And Beth, if we don’t arrest him for murder, we’ll tell him you said ‘hi.’”

That comment was greeted with a dial tone.

“I don’t think she appreciated that,” Jessie said.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Jessie wasn’t sure if this was a gym or a dance club.

When they walked into the small lobby of Crest Fitness, 1990s-era techno music was blasting over the speakers. They passed four stunning, impossibly fit young women. They were each of different ethnicities and wore different colored tights and sports bras, but they shared one thing in common: they were sweating profusely.

Jessie and Ryan did their best to maneuver through the obstacle course comprised of bombshells to get to the receptionist, who greeted them with a thin, unconvincing smile. Behind her in the glassed-in workout studio, Jessie saw Crest toweling off his shirtless torso.

The man was unquestionably a looker. Tall, with light brown hair and brown eyes, his skin was bronzed, and he had what looked like eight-pack abs. Jessie could see why he was popular, even without any special talent as a trainer.

“May I help you,” the receptionist yelled over the music.

“Yes,” Ryan said, holding up his badge, “we need to talk to Mr. Crest.”

“What?” she shouted.

“Could you turn the music down a little?” Ryan asked, leaning in.

She nodded and lowered volume enough so that Jessie could at least hear her own thoughts.

“We need to talk to Mr. Crest,” Ryan repeated.

“Oh,” she said hesitantly, “he doesn’t usually do meet and greets right after a session. He needs time to recuperate.”

“I have no doubt,” Ryan said, staying impressively unfazed by the lack of cooperation, “but this isn’t a meet and greet. We’re the police and we need to speak with him now. So we’re just going to head back.”

“Um,” the receptionist said, starting to stand up before changing her mind, “okay, I guess.”

They got to the locked door, and the young woman buzzed them in. Ryan entered first and Jessie followed behind, keeping a low profile to better note how Crest would react to this invasion of his private space. At first, he seemed oblivious to them, flexing his forearm lovingly as he blew some of his hair out of his face.

“Julian Crest,” Ryan said, “I’m Dete—.”

“You can set up an appointment with Carla,” Crest interrupted, without even looking up. “I don’t do walk-in evals and I definitely don’t do them after a video session. But thanks for your interest.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work for us,” Ryan told him firmly. “We’re with LAPD.”

The trainer finished toweling off his damp hair, then squinted first at Ryan, then at Jessie.

“I’m cool giving a discount for law enforcement,” he said “But like I told you, Carla handles all the appointments. Besides you look like you’re doing fine, buddy. And your partner there doesn’t look like she needs a trainer, although I’m happy to give her an initial private session for free. She’s bangin’.”

“As flattering as that is to hear,” Jessie replied drily, jumping in before Ryan could, “we’re not here to schedule training sessions. We have a few questions for you related to some work we’re doing. Do you know Chloe Baptiste?”

Of course, she already knew the answer, but seeing how he chose to provide it could prove instructive. Crest moved over to the nearby bench and grabbed his shirt. He turned away as he put it on, so Jessie couldn’t see his face.

“I wouldn’t usually talk about current or former clients, because of trainer-patient privilege, but you obviously know that I know her, or you wouldn’t be here,” he said. “Terrible what happened to her. I saw it on the news.”

Jessie was still processing the use of the term “trainer-patient privilege,” which most definitely wasn’t a thing, but Ryan managed to move past it to ask his first question.

“How well did you know her?” he pressed.

Crest turned around.

“I don’t like the tone of that question,” he said belligerently.

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