A Baked Ham by Jessica Beck Page B

unfortunate man was
murdered?”
    “Why should you possibly care
about that?” Marcus asked.   “That’s
exactly what the sheriff wanted to know last night.”
    “What did you tell him?” I asked.
    “Listen, I’m afraid that we’ve
gotten off-track here.   Our memberships
are refundable on a prorated basis if you find that you’re unhappy with your
decision, but I can assure you that you won’t be.   When people join our gym, they tend to
stay.   I’d be happy to talk to you about
what we have to offer here, but I’m not all that comfortable answering any
other questions.”
    “That’s a shame,” I said.   “I was kind of hoping that this was a
friendlier place than that.   Don’t people
like to talk about anything besides working out?”
    He had to be working on commission signing new members, because
Marcus’s tone changed instantly.   “Of
course we do.   It’s just that the play is
difficult to talk about, given what happened.”
    “I don’t know why you won’t tell
her where you were when it happened,” Moose asked.   “It’s not like she’s accusing you of
anything.   Is there something that you’re
hiding?”
    “If you must know, I was
backstage in Sandra’s dressing room,” he said.   “She was nervous before her big performance, and she wanted me nearby.”
    “Were the two of you together the
whole time?” I asked.
    “No.   She had a bad case of nerves, so she spent
quite a bit of time in the restroom.   Unfortunately, she doesn’t have one in her dressing room, so she was
down the hall most of the time.”
    “Are you saying that you just sat
there alone and waited for her?” I asked.
    “What else could I do?   I’m a loyal boyfriend,” he said.   “Now, what do you think about our gym?   I can assure you that it’s the best in the
region.”
    I was about to ask him another
question when a middle-aged woman cramming too much body into too little
spandex approached us.   In a cloying
voice, she asked, “Marcus, could you show me how to use this machine
again?   I can’t seem to get the knack of
it.”
    “I’d be glad to, Mrs. Nance, but
I’m with some guests right now.”
    I doubted that Marcus was going to
answer too many more questions, and I needed to get out of there before he
managed to talk me into joining.   “Why
don’t you go ahead and help her?   I’ll
take a brochure and think about it.   Who
knows?   I may come back later and talk to
Sandra herself.”
    “About the gym, right?”
    “Of course,” I said, and then
turned to my grandfather.   “Are you
ready?”
    “I am,” he said, and we walked
out of the gym with Marcus watching us in clear frustration.   He thought he’d had a live one on the hook,
but I was going to slip away before I signed anything.
    Once we were back outside and in
my grandfather’s truck driving away from the gym, Moose said, “The man’s kind
of persuasive, isn’t he?   I thought he
had you there for a second.”
    “Just because I don’t act in any
community theater productions doesn’t mean that I can’t be convincing when I
want to be.   Marcus has no alibi for the
murder, does he?”
    “He said he was waiting for
Sandra in her dressing room,” Moose said.
    “He admitted that he was alone,
though, so there’s no way to prove it one way or the other.   How hard would it be for him to slip next
door, kill Benny, and then get back to Sandra’s dressing room before anyone
noticed that he was gone?”
    “But the sheriff said that
Benny’s outside door was unlocked.”
    “Then I’d say that Marcus was
pretty smart to open it after he killed Benny.   What better way to divert suspicion away from himself than to open that
door as he was leaving?   No one thinks
the murder was committed by someone inside with that door found unlocked.”
    “He was still taking a chance,”
Moose said.   “Sandra could have come back
in at any second, and then where would he be?”
    “I just had