What the Hex? (A Paranormal P.I. Mystery Book 1) by Rose Pressey Page B

enthusiasm.
    I glanced over at him. “You can’t be serious.”
    He frowned. “Of course I’m serious. What’s the problem?”
    “We’ve been shot at. Don’t you think it’s time to go home?” I made the next left.
    “You’re absolutely right. We can go back to your place. Maybe watch a movie. Or catch The Walking Dead on Netflix.”
    I rolled my eyes. “You never stop.”
    “There’ll be plenty of time to stop when I’m dead.”
    “And if you’re not careful that will be very soon.” I pulled up to his car and shoved it into park.
    “You’re sure you don’t want to watch Netflix?”
    I grinned. “I’m positive.”
    He opened the car door. “Call if you change your mind.” Before shutting the door, he turned to me. “By the way, I hope you’ll be ready at seven in the morning.”
    “What in the heck would I be ready for at seven in the morning?”
    “We’re going to the gym, why else? Be ready. I’ll pick you up,” he said with a click of his tongue.
    “Derek, don’t you dare show up at my house that earl—”
    He cut my sentence off by closing the door.

Chapter 13
     
    We needed to find out more about Steve. As much as I hated the idea of going back to that gym, I knew it was necessary. I enjoyed working out, but I’d never liked having to do it in a gym. Maybe it brought back memories of school days when I’d had gym class. I was always the worst at every event. Of course the other students had made fun of me. This wasn’t school though and I was an adult now. If anyone at the gym made fun of me I’d give them a piece of my mind.
    I crammed myself into a pair of black yoga pants. Whose idea were these pants anyway? I wasn’t sure I liked walking around in them. I grabbed a long shirt and pulled it over my head. I studied my reflection. The shirt came down to my butt. That was better. Derek didn’t need any encouragement and workout clothes would only bring out comments that he thought were witty.
    The doorbell rang. Speak of the devil. I pulled on my sneakers and ran to the door. Why was I nervous? There was nothing to worry about.
    When I answered the door, Derek smiled at me. “Very pretty.”
    For a moment I stared at him. That was it? That was all he would say? No little witty comment? Something must be up.
    He wore black shorts that came to just above his knees and a red t-shirt, just tight enough to show all of his muscles. He smiled as if he knew I was thinking about his muscles. Making sure that there were no witchcraft items ready to fall out of my bag, I zipped it and then draped it over my shoulder.
    As we headed to the gym, I asked, “How much working out are you really going to do? We’ll be questioning Steve, right?”
    “Sure, but we have to look the part,” Derek said.
    He needed to stop being right about some many things. That made it hard for me to label Derek as a screw-up.
    After I convinced Derek that coffee was a necessity, he whipped through a drive-thru and ordered me the biggest on the menu. He figured that would make me less crabby. 
    Next, we pulled into the parking lot and found a spot at the edge of the lot. I hoped we didn’t have another debacle where both of us asked the same questions at the same time. Now that I knew a killer might have it out for me, I’d shoved my gun into my bag. As I scanned the area, I knew that paranoia had officially set in. Being shot at would do that to a person.
    The gym was packed when we walked through the door. This time there was actually someone at the front desk. The young blond looked as if he could be on the cover of a magazine. He smiled widely, as if he was in a commercial for the place. “May I help you?” he asked.
    I supposed we did have that clueless look, something that happened to my face every time I stepped into the gym.
    I took the lead. “We’re here to see Steve Rowe. He’s going to show us some workouts.”
    Somehow I’d made us sound even more clueless. The young guy didn’t seem to