Echoes in the Wind

by Debra Jupe

  Chapter 3

  Emergency lights pulsated streaks of red across the shoreline where police vehicles lined parallel along the curb surrounding the neighborhood. An ambulance had parked in the driveway, its doors wide open. Waiting.

  “This is taking forever,” Eric groaned. “I wish they’d hurry.” Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the deck’s banister and watched the crime scene personnel cautiously shift about collecting evidence then taping off the area.

  “Murder investigations take a while.” Darla sat on the bottom step rolling the empty wineglass between her palms. She glanced toward the home crawling with detectives before she returned to Eric. “I’m sure this case is going to be difficult to solve with so many people involved, especially when a bunch of them disappeared before the police arrived.”

  “Still no reason to keep us this long,” he mumbled.

  This was the most Eric had spoken since the authorities arrived. Once he seemed reassured of her safety after tussling with the motorcycle guy, things between them settled into an uneasy silence. Darla had long given up on getting him to talk. The whole night altered from something wonderful into a huge horrific, nightmare.

  She didn’t blame him for his impatience. For the past several hours the two of them remained parked at the foot of the house. A photographer snapped photographs outside and presumably inside, while uniformed police officers milled through the crowd taking information from the guests. The party goers who’d stayed drifted about speaking in hushed tones. Everyone appeared on edge.

  Eric studied the veiled sky. “At least the rain’s stalled.” He heaved his body away from the railing to sit on the step next to her. Lightning flickered, jumping from cloud to cloud as booms rattled above. The strong breeze carried the distinct smell of rain. The storm had been a slow mover, though the grumbled churns progressed.

  “Not for long, I’m afraid.”

  “Yeah, they need to speed up the interviewing. We don’t wanna end up as lightning conductors. The idea of being fried into something extra crispy doesn’t thrill me.”

  “They’ll let us leave as soon as they get our statements.” Exhausted, Darla didn’t want to appear disrespectful toward the dead either, but she wished the authorities would hasten the process too. She wanted to rush home to check the locks on the doors and windows, just in case. “Though, I’d rather the police hang around since a killer is on the loose in our neighborhood.”

  “The guy is long gone. The person killed was marked. Probably a drug deal turned bad.”

  “What makes you think so? Has something like this happened before?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Speculation. An assassin waltzes in and shoots someone with hundreds of people around, and no one can identify him. Gotta be a hit and done by a pro. Could be over money or maybe a defunct affair.”

  “I’m withholding my opinion until we get an official word from the authorities.”

  Eric stared at the sky again. “You do that.”

  Seconds ticked by converting into minutes. Strong winds thrust the surf near the deck propelling an icy mist to lightly blanket them. The added damp annoyance didn’t motivate Eric to move, therefore Darla stayed put too.

  “Does this happen a lot? Do all of your parties result in homicides or is tonight a onetime occurrence I got lucky enough to experience?”

  “I’ve been going to these things for years. Seen overdoses, a couple of suicide attempts, and one heart attack, but never a murder. Nothing surprises me, though.” A corner of Eric’s mouth lifted. “Welcome to my world.”

  “What about the victim? Do you think you may know him?”

  “I suppose there’s a possibility, but I doubt it.” He retrieved his smokes. “I’m only acquainted with a handful of people here. I’ve never met most of them, and that includes the guy who threw this disaster.”

  “Eric?” came a masculine voice from behind.

  Eric looked up from lighting his cigarette. “Shane.” He rose from the step and climbed over Darla to meet the person approaching them. “I wondered what happened to everyone.”

  A sturdy, light-haired man stopped at the side of the stairwell in front of them.

  “Blaine got a date. Finn and his asshole brother declared the party too tame, and they went to find something more exciting. Drake talked about cutting out. S’pose he wanted to get home to his bride.” The man glanced around, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hell of a situation. Do you know who it was? Who was killed?”

  The new arrival turned and glimpsed at Darla, giving her a brief nod.

  “Nope.” Eric pointed at her. “That’s Darla.” He swung his lit cigarette toward the guy. “This is my manager, Shane McIntyre. He’s with Blaine and me.”

  A quick but peculiar look passed across Shane’s face before his expression altered into a smile. He extended a hand. “You’re not a regular at these bashes, are you?”

  “My first time.” She stood and brushed her palm down her skirt before she took his offered hand.

  A policeman strolled to the threesome and told Eric they were set to question him.

  “Good. I’m past ready,” Eric mumbled, then said louder, “Stay with her, Shane. She’s a bit nervous after all of this.” His eyes shifted to her. “I’ll be back.”

  Shane flashed another puzzling expression. Darla’s cheeks burned. Her throat tightened as she swallowed a trace of anger. This guy must hold the same opinion as Eric on her appearance here tonight. Even though the belief was true, she’d grown tired of the insinuations that she didn’t fit in.

  “Not a great impression of our bunch, huh?”

  Darla released a bitter chuckle. “It’s been an interesting experience.”

  He cast a glance over his shoulder to where Eric stood. “You’ve known Eric long?”

  “We met tonight.” She stepped from the deck and onto the sand, moving around the tall, wooden handrail to get a better view of the man who’d captivated her attention the entire evening. “You’re his manager.”

  “Right,” he replied blandly.

  “You seem familiar. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

  “I don’t think so. I was inside earlier. You may’ve seen me at the party.”

  Darla nodded. “In Raging Impulse’s group along with their many lady friends. I bet I’m making the connection from that.” She clutched the glass between her hands. “Eric mentioned a former manager who controlled and repressed the band. I’m assuming you’re not the person he’s referring to?”

  Shane’s stare was blank before her question apparently registered. “No. I only work with Eric and Blaine. Our professional association is fairly new, although I’ve known them for several years. I took the job a few months ago. I usually stay in Scotland, but I travel to the states often. I have a son in the UK, so my visits are never long.”

  “Are you a musician also?”

  “I dabble, but no, I don’t actually play.” He twisted to her and scrutinized her with a raised brow. “Tonight’s been a real shock for everyone. I suppose this incident has been pretty upsetting for you.”

  “More than you can imagine. I was shaken after the murder first happened, but we’ve been waiting a long time to be interviewed, and I’m so tired now that I’m almost numb.” Her internal shudder whispered a severe contradiction, but she discounted the shock. “I’m sure it’ll hit me again after a good night sleep, if I can sleep.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  She shook her head “Not really. It was dark before the blast. The supposed killer did run past me and shoved me into the stair rail when he was making his getaway.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty unnerving.”

  “I didn’t realize who he was, so it wasn’t as disturbing at the time.”

  “Did you get a look at the guy?”

  “Just a person dressed in dark clothes, and I think he wore a helmet. I couldn’t see his face.”

  “What happened after he pushed you?”


  “He took off on a motorcycle. It was hidden under there.” Darla motioned in the direction of the deck’s underbelly where officers were inspecting the area. “I wish I was more educated about bikes so I could tell the police the make and model. But that knowledge is beyond me.” She paused. “You weren’t here when the shooting happened?”

  “I was outside too. In front of the house.” Shane almost smiled. “And I did witness the motorcycle drive away. I told the detectives when they interviewed me. I didn’t realize he had anything to do with the murder either. I couldn’t identify any specifics, so I doubt if I helped. Too many people here. I don’t believe they’ll ever solve this.”

  Darla eyes drifted toward Eric. Head bent to study the officer’s notes, he lifted his chin, flicked his gaze over her at the same moment she looked at him. He winked. Her stomach tightened, and her heart jumped as she suppressed a smile.

  “Hope you’re not entertaining more than a single night with him.” Shane’s voice held a hint of warning.

  Darla jerked around and stared at him defiantly. “Excuse me?”

  Shane inclined his head in Eric’s direction and grinned. “Woman come and go in his life and usually don’t hang round for more than a few hours. You’re out of luck if you are planning anything other than a one nighter. He doesn’t do sentiments, feelings, or all the crap that goes along with emotional ties.”

  She clutched the wineglass’s stem, pointing the glass’s bulb at him. “I realize I’m not worldly enough to be here. I chose to wear clothes over just underwear, my skin’s not inked or pierced, and I don’t use ten pounds of make-up. You don’t have to spell things out for me. I get it, okay? Eric Boyd isn’t interested in me.”

  “Hold the hostility.” Shane glanced at Eric, who’d finished with the officer and was strolling toward them. “He’s interested, all right.” He turned back to her. “That’s what I’m telling you. It’ll be only for one night.”

  Darla’s insides froze. Eric wanted her. Of course he did. Why else would he keep hanging around her? Because he actually liked her or he desired to know her better. The idea was crazy. And she was attracted to him too. Could she do it? Could she sleep with a guy she’d just met and walk away after. And be okay?

  Eric looked at Darla. “The detective wants to talk to you now.”

  She didn’t speak. She spun and marched to where the investigator waited. Skyrockets exploded in her chest, though not because of the upcoming interview, but from what Shane had told her. And more so from what she considered doing.

  Her meeting took very little time. The policeman wrote down her information and gave her a card with instructions to call if she remembered anything else. Interrogation completed, she glanced at Eric who gazed at her as he continued to speak with his manager. She took this as a sign. She was going to do this. She returned to Eric. They both said their goodbyes to Shane and started down the beach. Neither spoke for a good minute.

  “You and Shane seemed to be getting along.”

  “He was enlightening,” Darla replied in a clipped tone. “Why do you have a manager? I thought your group broke up.”

  “We did. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of the music industry.”

  “Most of the band was at the party. Was that intentional?”

  “Shane, Blaine, and I planned to meet up with Impulse’s keyboardist, Drake Mahoney. He’s retired from the business, and we don’t get with him often. It was only by chance we ran into Finn O’Conner and his brother, Richard, who played in our band.”

  “I guess you had a pleasant reunion.”

  “And you’d guess wrong.” He slowed his step. “Where do you live?”

  Darla pointed as they advanced toward her residence. “My house is over there.”

  Eric whistled low. “Nice. I’ve admired that one for a while.”

  “All of the homes are well kept in this vicinity.”

  The dwellings in her area were older and constructed in many shapes and sizes. Darla’s certainly wasn’t a larger one, although it was well maintained to uphold its elegance. Built in the 1920’s, the house’s charm remained preserved by the owners, who’d kept the structure true to the period with the addition of modern conveniences and integrated them into the era. Though out of her price range, she loved living in the area since her breakup. If it weren’t for her boss’s friends, who owned the place and needed someone to housesit most of the year, she’d never be able to afford such a luxury.

  “Yeah, but some are better than others.” He indicated farther down the beach. “Blaine and I share the one with the smaller deck. We’ve been there for about six months. It’s decent although I’ve had to do loads of maintenance, and the flat still needs lots of work. But I like to do repairs in my down time, which is why I moved there.” He turned to her as they stopped in front of her property. “You must not get out much or I’d have seen you around.”

  “I’ve only lived here for eight weeks.”

  Eric took a step closer and leaned in with a grin, his voice a raspy whisper. “Then you haven’t been properly welcomed to the neighborhood.”

  She looked him in the eyes and swallowed. A murmur of Shane’s words flashed through her mind. This was it. The moment. Do or die, sink or swim, and all the other clichés as to what choice she would make for the rest of the night. She wished she was more like Stephanie and could enjoy the experience for however brief and then move on.

  Eric placed a finger under her chin, lifted her face, and tilted his body further toward her. His mouth lingered above hers, so close his warm breath grazed against her skin.

  “Eric,” came a cry from the blackness.

  “Shit.” Eric dropped his arm and twisted in the direction of the voice.

  The two stared into the darkness. Shane’s running silhouette appeared from of the gloom. He sprinted to where they waited. “Did you hear?”

  Shane stopped, out of breath, though Darla got the sense his panting wasn’t from his quick sprint. He bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees. “I found out who was—” He gasped for air then puffed. “Murdered.”

  “What?”

  “Killed. At the party. It’s—” He gulped and inhaled again. “It’s Drake.” He panted and swept the sweat off his brow. “Drake Mahoney was the person shot. He’s dead.”

  Chapter 4

  “Tonight was sure unusual.”

  Eric nodded as he and Shane trekked across the shoreline toward his house. He’d lost someone he considered more of a brother than a friend, and in a violent way. Unusual hardly described the night, but he didn’t argue.

  “The party was rougher than normal, and this…” Shane trailed, his voice choked.

  Eric sighed. “I know.”

  He fumbled for his cigarettes, glad he’d refrained from smoking the entire pack while he waited for the police to complete their investigation. He shook the package until the thin rolls appeared. With a stick gripped between his lips, he found his lighter and flipped the clicker. The spark swayed under the smoke until it lit, then he inhaled and blew.

  “You’re sure Drake was the victim? Did someone identify the body? They’re certain the weird guy in black was the killer?”

  “Apparently most of the victim’s face was shot off. Hit from the back, behind the ear as he was coming out of the john. And from what I’m getting, witnesses claimed the motorcyclist was holding a gun when he left.”

  Eric’s stomach lurched “Coward. How did they determine the dead person was Drake?”

  Shane shrugged. “Rumor mill says he had a picture ID on him, and someone recognized his clothing. I haven’t heard about anyone actually witnessing the crime, though.”

  The whole idea was too upsetting to comprehend. Right now Eric couldn’t register this awful thing that happened to his former band mate. “I don’t wanna to discuss this anymore.”

  “Understood. Let’s change the subject.” Shane hesitated. “I’m wondering about this girl. Darla.”

  “What abou
t her?” Eric did his best to make his voice sound casual as he tossed his smoldering butt into the sand.

  “You tell me.”

  “I pegged her for a crasher the moment I laid eyes on her. Hell, her whole demeanor shrieked outsider. I wondered what possessed her to intrude in a situation where she clearly didn’t belong, so I went to find out.”

  “Why did it matter?”

  Good question. One that’d bothered him the entire evening. He’d gotten bored early and wanted something to liven up his night. Enter Darla. Compelled to discover her story, he found a way to meet her, thus his being behind her at the bar wasn’t a coincidence. The plan, find a bit of entertainment and move on.

  What he didn’t intend, was for her fall literally into his arms. Nor did he mean to like her so close to him. Not in the usual way he enjoyed being near women. This was different, unidentifiable. These odd feelings kept messing with his head despite the disturbing circumstances.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Shane snorted. “I’m calling you on this one. Do you realize in all the years we’ve been friends this is the first time you’ve ever introduced me to a woman you were entertaining?”

  Eric didn’t respond.

  “You actually told me to look out for her when you left to talk to the cops.” Shane chuckled. “You wanted to protect her, to be her freaking hero. And you almost insisted on walking her home. This isn’t the nineteen fifties, so what’s up?”

  “You’re overthinking the situation. There’s nothing special about this girl, especially compared to the women I’ve met. She kinda pretty, but unsophisticated.” He touched his pocket, then changed his mind. “I like her hair, though.” Images of thick, wavy ringlets, almost black, raced through his head. Curls swirled over her shoulders and shimmered in the light, resembling a halo.

  “You meet pretty, hell, beautiful women every day, all with great hair. Tall, leggy, large chested females.”

  “True. This one’s working on her PhD. And I’m not attracted to the smart types. She’s got an intelligent mind, but she’s average everywhere else. Medium height, normal build, style of dress, all average. Even her story rings typical. Dumped, brokenhearted, whatever—common.” He should’ve forgotten her name by now, yet her dark eyes seemed imprinted in his consciousness. “I don’t wanna talk about her either.”