Hard Play by Kurt Douglas Read Free Book Online Page A

saw Ms. Johnson?”
    Bill started to sob again.
    Frank rolled his eyes and tried to contain the sigh that escaped his lips.
    “I have a few other people I need to speak with,” Frank said. “You take your time.”
    Frank moved to the door on the back wall and asked, “I can go back here? That’s not a problem?”
    Bill held himself against the desk, his back swelling up and down under his loose tank. He raised his hand without looking at Frank and said, “Yeah, man. That’s fine.”
    “I’ll be back,” Frank said as he disappeared behind the swinging door.
    Frank weaved through the rows of exercise bikes, reaching the back wall of mirrors and dumb bells. There, with a curl bar gripped in his hands, stood a thin, Hispanic boy wearing black spandex bike shorts with a yellow and blue striped polo that sat too high on his waist and fit too tight in the shoulders. He watched himself in the mirror as he brought the weights up to his chest and then back down, letting out a strained breath with each rep. Frank leaned against the mirror and waited for the boy to finish.
    The boy dropped the bar and turned his attention toward Frank.
    “I need to ask you a few questions about last month,” Frank said as he handed the boy a towel.
    Wiping his face, the boy said, “These have to do with Mary-Beth?”
    Frank nodded.
    “It does,” he said.
    “You gonna catch that hijo de puta asesino ?” the boy snarled, tossing the rag on the bench behind him.
    Frank narrowed his eyes at the boy.
    “You Ed’s friend, no? Cheryl told us you find her body,” the boy confessed as he raised his arms in a T and started his squats.
    Hunkering down, pressing his butt to his haunches and standing back up, the boy let out a deep breath, then repeated.
    Frank pulled out his phone.
    Looking down at the boy, he asked, “Your name?”
    “Pedro Rodas,” the boy squawked in between breaths.
    Frank typed it into his phone.
    “When was the last time you saw Mary-Beth?” he asked.
    “Round da begeening last month.”
    “And how do you know Mary-Beth?”
    “ N’ombre . Not really. No la conozco verdad . Other than out front most mornings,” Pedro said as he pointed his index finger, poking the air over his shoulder. “ Nunca hablamos . We never talked.”
    “And the exact date you last saw her?”
    Pedro shrugged his shoulders and pointed toward the women’s restroom, saying, “Look man, hable con Rhonda—si quieres exact dates.”
    “Thanks,” Frank mumbled, turning away.
    Standing with his head poking through the doorway, Frank called into the women’s room.
    “Ladies of the locker room, this is Frank Black, PD. I need to speak with Rhonda. Can someone send her out?”
    It wasn’t a moment before a towering redhead came parading out of the restroom.
    “I’m Rhonda,” she introduced in a husky voice, holding her large man-hand out toward Frank. Frank took her hand in his, meeting her forceful squeeze.
    “I need to know when you last saw Mary-Beth Johnson. Pedro there says you’re the one I need to speak with.”
    Before Rhonda could rebuttal, a slender girl with glasses and auburn hair popped out of the restroom.
    “Are you guys talking about Mary-Beth?” the woman interjected.
    Without waiting for an answer, the woman blathered, “You know she said she was being followed. Said she didn’t feel safe here anymore. She said she thought someone was watching her in the showers.”
    She looked Frank in the eyes and declared, “I would’ve stopped coming here too. I thought that’s all it was. I thought she stopped coming. I thought you and Ed would find her at home watching Court TV or out getting her nails done. I didn’t think…oh my God, I didn’t think...”
    The woman trailed off.
    “This is Cheryl,” Rhonda said, pointing to the small Chatty Cathy beside her.
    Rhonda and Cheryl standing side by side only exaggerated the difference in heights, making Rhonda look like a giant compared to the child-sized Cheryl beside