After I had trained the lady I met on the floor and put myself through another intense workout, I was done for the day. I would spend the evening nailing down Clayton and see if we could meet up somewhere.
As I was leaving the club, my smartphone sounded in my pocket, announcing an incoming email. I pulled it out, hoping it was Brady getting back to me. It was.
My heart picking up pace, I clicked the email open while at the same time stepping into the elevator.
Hello Longoria,
I hope all is well with you in Hungary. Thus far, we have made little headway into Nick’s murder. We have spoken to Cardoza and he claims to have no knowledge of the matter, not even that Nick had still been alive. I flew out to Sing Sing and spoke to him directly, and he appeared genuinely surprised. Additionally, he was put through a lie detector test that he passed as we interrogated him, though you and I both know those are possible to beat, especially for psychopaths like Cardoza. He has likely been prepared for polygraph testing. This means we can’t discount his involvement completely. I wish I had better news for you.
Take care of yourself.
Yours,
B
I put the phone back into my purse and thought about the contents of the email. Cardoza may be a psychopath, but Brady was very perceptive. It was more likely that the drug lord passed the polygraph testing than Brady’s watchful eyes. I firmly believed that my boss would have seen something if Cardoza knew what had happened to Nick. Especially if he had ordered the hit. Brady was surely just being his usual cautious self.
I walked out onto the street, the strong sunshine blinding me momentarily as I walked in the direction of the furnished apartment I had rented a few blocks away, deep in thought. This was all very interesting. A month had passed since Nick was killed and you’d think that, at this point, Cardoza would have learned about it. Such news traveled fast.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I supposed something could have happened to the people who murdered Nick—who had done so without an order from Cardoza—and that was why Cardoza didn’t know about it yet. Maybe they had been accidentally killed before being able to deliver the news. The way Nick had been butchered was so specific to how Cardoza liked to take care of rats, it was hard to believe it wasn’t somehow tied to people in his organization. Of course, the perp might only have wanted it to seem like someone tied to Cardoza was behind it—his methods weren’t a secret—but what was there to gain by doing that? The Cardoza cartel was dismantled and its leader and most coconspirators in prison for life.
I sighed, shaking my head. Nothing quite made sense.
As I reached my apartment, I found silverware so I could eat the salad I had picked up in Nikkei’s cafeteria before leaving. Then I took a seat at the table where I kept my laptop. Finding Clayton through googling should be a lot easier than finding Mystery Man. As far as I remembered, Clayton was on Facebook, though not very active. Which reminded me that I should add an update to the Facebook page my computer whiz friend George had created for Jamie, who was into social media whereas Annika hadn’t been. Another way to separate our identities.
I googled Clayton James and Facebook and immediately found him there. According to his profile, he was working at New York Sports Club now. Fortunately, you didn’t have to have an account on Facebook in order to send someone there a message. As long as the person had a unique username—which Clayton had—I could message him using Annika’s email address.
I sent him a message, telling him that I was back in New York and that I needed to see him urgently. I could only hope he would respond soon and agree to see me.
Instead of staring at my computer while waiting for him to respond, I walked into the bathroom, taking a long, much-needed shower.
When I stepped out of the bathroom half an hour later and sat down in front of my laptop, there was an email waiting for me from Clayton. I clicked it open and read through the short message.
Hey Annika!
Welcome back to America! We missed you! Sure, when and where do you want to meet?
Clayton
“Yay!” I exclaimed and quickly typed back a response: Thank you, Clayton! How about sometime tomorrow? Do you have time? What’s your no, so we can text? Mine is 646-776-4654.
My phone buzzed only moments later.
It’s Clayton, the text in my phone said. Can you meet around 7pm?
My floor shift wasn’t over until nine p.m. the following day, but I should be able to disappear for a short while. So I typed back: Sure, seven is good. I’ll be on the eastside, so we can meet in your area.
I would not be on the eastside, but I didn’t want to risk anyone who might remember Annika spotting us as we met up. I’d just have to jump in a cab to get there quickly. If Clayton still lived on the Upper East Side, he should be okay with my request. My phone buzzed.
How about Sarabeth’s on 83rd and Third?
Perfect. See you there at 7! I responded.
Excited to have nailed down a meeting with Clayton so easily, I flopped down on the big couch in my living room to relax a little. I had been running around all day and my body was tired from the hardcore workout I had given myself. I closed my eyes and the next time I opened them, it was five in the morning. Shocked to see that I had managed to fall asleep all on my own, I got up. It couldn’t have been more than nine when I passed out last night, which meant I had slept an astounding eight hours.
Walking around in my apartment, I definitely felt rested. But in the quiet of morning, the sun not even up yet, thoughts of Nick returned to me and the constant ache in my chest made itself noticed. I turned on the TV and jacked up the volume, hoping this would distract me, drown the pain. I put on shorts, a workout top, a sweater and sneakers. I would go out for a run in the park, listen to loud club music. Nick had hated techno music, the electronic, sterile tunes they played in most clubs. Doing so had reminded him of his years with Cardoza. The married, forty-something drug lord loved going to clubs and had required that his most intimate soldiers go with him. So when he and I were together, there had never been any techno music around, only classic rock and R & B. Anything with a soft beat.
I wasn’t a fan of techno, but listening to it did make me run faster, and it also helped me bury more thoughts of Nick.
The day went by quickly and I picked up two new clients to train. If I kept up this pace, my schedule would be full in another couple of weeks. Rolf and The Adler Group should be pleased with me. I ran into Emma, who was back to her regular self, smiling warmly and waving at me, though busy as always, I didn’t get an opportunity to talk to her some more.
When the clock was nearing seven p.m., I got ready to leave for my meeting with Clayton. I told the other trainers on shift with me that I would take my break in a few minutes; hopefully, they wouldn’t notice just how long a break I would take. I didn’t think so; we were four trainers on and it was a busy evening at the club, so it was fairly easy to disappear for an hour. I didn’t dare give Clayton more time than that.
I hailed a cab as soon as I got out on the street and quickly reached the eastside. I jumped out a few blocks below the café where I’d meet with Clayton so I could switch identities before seeing him. There was a Starbucks right there that I entered and walked into the restroom.
There, I removed the navy ball cap from my head and replaced it with a platinum blond wig. The straight tresses reached the lower half of my back. Then I switched my green contacts to blue ones and put on some of the pale pink lipstick and bronzer Annika had favored. I also pulled a blue sweater with a turtleneck over my trainer shirt. Since I was going to lie to Clayton about my employment, I needed to hide it. I gave myself a few seconds to evaluate my swift transformation, make sure everything looked okay. Then I left the restroom.
Still breathing fast and my face hot from jogging over to Sarabeth’s, I strode into the hole-in-the-wall café so typical of the streets of Manhattan. I had barely entered when I spotted the tall, black, bald man wearing a jeans jacket over blue athletic pants inside the cozy establishment. I reminded myself that I needed to speak with a Swedish accent from now on.
I walked up to him and tapped the back of his shoulder. He turned around and his face broke into a big grin at the sight of me.
“Hi, Annika!” He took me in his arms and gave me a big, warm bear hug. Letting go of me, he eyed me up and down. “It’s so great to see you. You look exactly the same!”
“So do you,” I said and grinned. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. Hey, let’s get a table. Unfortunately I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m flying to Miami at eleven, so I need to be back at my hotel at around eight. I booked the ticket this morning. Last minute deal.”
“Really? You should have told me and we could have met another day.”
“I might actually stay in Miami, so I thought it better not to reschedule.”
“Oh yeah? Well, then let’s sit.” He turned around and asked the hostess if there was a table available for us. The young girl grabbed two menus and told us to come with her.
When we were seated in a discreet booth and the hostess had left, I leaned toward Clayton. I didn’t have any time to waste. “I wanted to talk to you about Nikkei. I was planning on working there again, but after I spoke to the new manager and saw how few of the original trainers are still there, I’m no longer so sure I want to. I saw on Facebook that you work at one of the New York Sports Clubs here on the eastside now. Why did you leave Nikkei? I thought you loved it there.”
Clayton’s caramel brown face darkened. “Yeah, I did love to work there and I still would if I could. But I was fired.”
I frowned and gasped with outrage. Not that it had come as a surprise—he had simply confirmed what I’d already known—but it was wiser to act like I was shocked.
“You were fired? Why would they fire a trainer as hardworking and with as many clients as you had? It makes no sense.”
Clayton’s nostrils flared with anger, further confirming how devastating this had been to him. “I guess it did to them. A few of my clients quit the club when I told them, but most stayed and just switched trainers. So I had to start from scratch at New York Sports Club. Fortunately, it didn’t take me very long to build up my business. But working there is no way near as good as working at Nikkei. The old Nikkei.”
“I hear you. What happened to the other trainers? When I looked at all the trainer photos, I saw that hardly anyone is there anymore. Were they all fired like you?”
“From what I know, yeah, they were. It seems the only ones the new owners kept were the young, good-looking ones with lots of clients. Apparently, I was too old and ugly for them.”
Clayton, with his fifty-eight years of age and average looks, was most likely right. But I didn’t have the heart to say that I agreed with his statement, not emphatically at least. It wasn’t like I thought they had been right in firing him for such shallow reasons. Plus, it didn’t explain why Emma was still there.
“Really?” I asked. “Do you really think so?” I made myself laugh a little. “If it was only a matter of looks, why is Emma still there? She’s no supermodel.” Though she was much younger than Clayton, but there was no need to remind him of that.
Clayton laughed without joy. “No, she is not.” He sighed and shrugged. “I have no idea why they didn’t fire her too. She was never as busy as me or Ariel and Missy were. Is Ariel still there?”
“Her photo is still there, so I guess she is, but I never bumped into her when I was there for an interview. I only spotted Emma. She looks the same as always.”
A waitress came to take our order and we got lattes and sandwiches from the menu.
I eyed my phone to get an idea how we were doing on time. It was almost seven thirty. I needed to leave by seven forty-five in order to be back at the gym in time.
“What are you doing back here anyway?” Clayton asked. “I thought you were going to stay with your mother what with your father getting so sick. Is he…?”
“Yes, he passed. Just a few weeks after I got back, so it was good that I left as soon as I did. Cancer’s a bitch for sure.”
Clayton patted my hand affectionately. “I’m so sorry, Annika. That must have been so hard to watch.”
I pulled my lips into a smile. “Yes, it was no fun, but I’m done mourning now. And I really don’t want to live in Sweden as you know. My mother saw how miserable I was to be back in Stockholm, so she nagged and nagged me to do something about it. So I did. She’s not alone. My sister and our aunts and uncles all live there, which made it easier for me to feel okay with coming back here.”
“When did you get here?”
“About a week ago. And I went directly to Nikkei to see if Joanne would take me back. You can imagine my shock when I saw all of you guys, including her, being gone.”
“Yeah, I can. Did the new managers offer you employment? I’m sure they did looking the way you do.”
“Yeah, they did, but I don’t think I want to work there. They seem a bit too cutthroat for my taste. I really don’t like what they did to so many of the old trainers. Can’t you guys sue them?”
Clayton shook his head slowly. “I guess we could try, but I don’t think we would win it. New York is an at-will state, which means the employer can fire whoever they want whenever they want without just cause. In other words, The Adler Group didn’t do anything illegal.”
I had known this already, but it wasn’t likely that a Swedish person would. I tsk-tsked.
“That really sucks,” I said. “I really don’t think I’ll be accepting the job offer. To be honest, you’re probably better off not working for them if they have such callous policies, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled. “I just wish Millennium Partners hadn’t sold the company.”
The waitress returned with our food and drinks.
“They didn’t have a choice according to what Emma told me,” I said and had a sip of my latte. “I bumped into her on my way out. They were losing money.”
Clayton grabbed his ham and cheese sandwich with both hands. “That’s what she told you, huh? That’s not what I heard.” He took a big bite and chewed.
“What did you hear? Are you telling me she was lying?”
He held up a hand and finished chewing.
“Maybe,” he said. “I just know that Millennium Partners were not doing as badly as everyone thinks. It’s a great company.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m very tight with the general manager. He showed me the stats when I asked him.”
“So then why did they sell Nikkei and the other clubs to The Adler Group?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
As I walked out of Sarabeth’s ten minutes later, after having chugged my latte and devoured my sandwich—Clayton’s treat—I was deep in thought. A yellow cab with its available light on approached me and I raised an arm to stop it. It instantly slid up to me. I would change my look back to Jamie in the backseat, not worried that the cab driver would care at all. That was one of the great things about this city—the vast majority of New Yorkers had seen it all, so any time someone did something weird like pulling off a wig, switching contacts and outfits in a car—it was bound to not even get a raised eyebrow. As long as you tipped your cab driver well, you could get away with pretty much anything.
I wasn’t worried that I would run into Clayton again or that he would contact me. We weren’t that close. Both of us had just promised each other to stay in touch out of politeness when we’d said goodbye. Besides, what would be the point if I was going to stay in Miami, which I had told him I was now convinced I would do.
When I was done switching back to my Jamie persona, I called George.
“Hey, Gabi. What’s up? Everything all right?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see if you could check something for me.”
“Shoot.”
“I need to find out if Millennium Partners was making a profit running Nikkei or not. I’m being told different stories and want to know which one is true. Is there any way you could find out?”
“I can always hack their CEO’s emails and see what I find.”
“That would be great.”