Love You More (Tessa Leoni, #1)(50)

Jessica furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Products to aid his speed/ability to add muscle?”

Jessica frowned harder; then, she got it. “You mean steroids.”

“I’m curious.”

Immediately, she shook her head. “I’m not down with that. If I thought he was juicing up, I’d quit. Screw the two hundred a week. I dated a guy into ’roids. No way I’d go down that road again.”

“You were dating Brian?”

“No! I didn’t mean that. I mean associating with someone abusing steroids. It makes people crazy. The stuff you see on the news—it’s not a lie.”

Bobby regarded her levelly. “And for your own training?”

She met his gaze just as levelly. “Sweat and tears, baby. Sweat and tears.”

Bobby nodded. “So you’re not a proponent of steroids—”

“No!”

“But what about other trainers in the gym? Or even outside the gym. Brian got some great results very fast. How sure are you that it was all his sweat and tears?”

Jessica didn’t answer right away. She chewed her lower lip again, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t think so,” she said at last. “But I couldn’t swear to it. Something was going on with Brian. He just got back into town three weeks ago, and this time around … He was moody. Dark. Something was on his mind.”

“You ever meet his wife?”

“The state trooper? No.”

“But he talked about her.”

Jessica shrugged. “They all do.”

“They?”

“Clients. I don’t know, being a trainer is like being a hairdresser. The ministers of the grooming services sector. Clients talk. We listen. It’s half our job.”

“So what did Brian say?”

Jessica shrugged, obviously uncomfortable again.

“He’s dead, Jessica. Killed in his own home. Help me understand why Brian Darby embarked on a major self-improvement program and it still wasn’t enough to save him.”

“He loved her,” Jessica whispered.

“Who?”

“Brian loved his wife. Genuinely, deeply, soulfully. I’d kill for a man to love me like that.”

“Brian loved Tessa.”

“Yeah. And he wanted to be stronger for her. For her and Sophie. He needed to be a big man, he used to joke, because guarding two females was four times the work.”

“Guarding?” Bobby asked with a frown.

“Yeah. That’s the word he’d used. Guess he’d screwed up once and Tessa had gotten on his case. Sophie was to be guarded. He took it seriously.”

“You ever sleep with Brian?” Bobby asked suddenly.

“No. I don’t screw around with my clients.” She shot him a look. “Asshole,” she muttered.

Bobby flashed his creds again. “That would be ‘Detective Asshole’ to you.”

Jessica merely shrugged.

“Tessa screw around on Brian? Maybe he discovered something, helped spark his quest to become a bigger man.”

“Not that he ever said. Though …” She paused. “No guy is gonna admit that to a girl. Especially a pretty one like me. Come on, that’s like saying, I’m a miserable weenie, up front. Guys make you find that out for yourself.”

Bobby couldn’t argue with that logic. “But Brian didn’t think his wife loved him.”

That hesitation again. “I don’t know. I got the impression … Tessa’s a state trooper, right? A police officer. Kind of sounded like she was tough. Things were her way or the highway. Brian jumped through a lot of hoops. Didn’t mean, however, she thought he was the greatest guy on God’s green earth. Just meant she expected him to jump through a lot of hoops, especially when it came to Sophie.”

“She had a lot of rules regarding her daughter?”

“Brian worked hard. When he was home, he wanted to play. Tessa, however, wanted him to babysit. Sounds like sometimes they went round and round a bit. But he never said anything bad about her,” Jessica added hastily. “He wasn’t that kind of guy.”

“What kind of guy?”

“Guy who rags on his wife. Trust me”—she rolled her eyes—“we have plenty of those around here.”

“So why was Brian moody?” Bobby cycled back. “What happened this last time he was on tour?”

“I don’t know. He never said. He just seemed … miserable.”

“You think he beat his wife?”

“No!” Jessica appeared horrified.

“She has a medical history consistent with abuse,” Bobby added, just for the sake of argument.

Jessica, however, stood by her man. “No f*cking way.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How would you know?”

“Because he was sweet. And sweet guys don’t whack their wives.”

“Again, how would you know?”

She stared at him. “Because I managed to find a wife beater all by myself. Married him for five long years. Till I got smart, got fit, and kicked his ass to the curb.”

She flexed her arms pointedly. Miss Fit New England four times running, indeed. “Brian loved his wife. He didn’t hit her, and he didn’t deserve to die. Are we done?”