Shepherd sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll definitely have my CSI guys check it out. For now, you two should go on home, and, Cat, I’ll follow up with you later.”
“Tonight?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m gonna be here for hours, so I won’t be over tonight. But I’ll make a point of finding you tomorrow, okay?” Shepherd reached out and gripped my hand for a moment. It was, I thought, a half-hearted attempt at an apology for snapping at me earlier.
I wanted to stroke his cheek and hug him, to let him know we were okay, but it wasn’t the time or the place for any PDAs. “Sounds good,” I said, squeezing his hand.
He let me go and turned to leave, and so did Gilley and I, but then I thought of something and turned back toward his departing form.
“Shep?” I called.
He glanced back at me. “Yeah?”
“Did you tell Sunny?”
The look of surprise on Shepherd’s face at the mention of his sister told me he hadn’t. “Damn it,” he swore, closing his eyes, as if to rein in any further commentary. When he seemed more composed, he opened his lids and said, “I haven’t. This is gonna kill her. She and Yelena go way back. They’ve been really close friends since college.”
“Do you want Gilley and me to go to her place and break it to her?” I asked next. I hated the thought of Sunny being alone when she got the news, and there was no way Shepherd could leave the crime scene to go break the evening’s tragic turn to his twin.
“Would you?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely. I’ll text you to let you know how she’s doing, and we’ll stay with her until Darius gets home.”
“He’s in L.A.,” Shepherd said, a look of disapproval crossing his features.
“Sunny told me earlier that he’d be home tonight.”
The tension in Shepherd’s shoulders eased a bit. “Good,” he said. “If you could stay with her until he gets home, I’d appreciate it.”
“Consider it done,” I said.
Shepherd offered me a grateful smile and then turned back toward the theater. Gilley and I resumed our walk across the street, and I suddenly realized that Gilley was rather quiet, a pained look on his face.
“You okay?” I said to him.
“Hmm?” he asked. I’d obviously roused him from his troubled thoughts.
“Are you okay?” I repeated.
“I’m thinking about Sunny,” he said. “And I’m wondering how we’re going to find the words to tell her that her dear friend was just murdered.”
I sighed heavily. When I’d volunteered to deliver the news, I don’t think I’d thought it through as thoroughly as I should’ve. “I think that we should approach it with great care,” I said.
“Duh,” Gil replied.
“What I mean is, I think we should prepare her from the second she opens her door to us. We should say something like, ‘Sunny, we have some difficult news to break to you. How about we all go inside and sit down?’ and then you can guide her inside to the sofa and hold her hand while I offer her the news.”
“I like that,” Gilley said. “I mean, I don’t like it, but I like the approach. We’ll be gentle yet truthful, and we’ll make sure to stay with her until the hubs gets home.”
“Good,” I said, feeling relieved that Gilley was along with me on this terrible errand.
By this time, we had reached the other side of the street and were passing by the alley on our way to the parking garage where we’d parked, when I stopped and looked down the length of the darkened alley.
“What?” Gilley asked.
“That’s the alley the murderer slipped out the back door into,” I said.
“So now he’s the murderer?” Gilley said.
I rolled my eyes and, using air quotes, said, “Okay, the ‘suspicious person.’”
“Should we check it out?”
“I don’t know. It looks creepy.”
Gilley pulled his chin back in mock surprise. “That looks creepy to you? Pish, gurl. You never would’ve made it on one of our ghost busts back in the day.”
“Nor would I have wanted to. They sounded horrendous.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand. Let’s see if, in his haste to run out the door, he dropped something that could identify him.”
I took Gilley’s hand, and we crept into the alley.
“Which door is the coffee shop?” he asked.
“I think it’s the one down there,” I said, pointing a little way down the alley.
“Okay, let’s go all the way to the end of this block. It’ll let out on the right side of the parking garage, too, so this will end up being a convenient shortcut,” Gilley said.
We walked along, and Gilley had the flashlight on his phone pointing toward the ground. Mostly there was just some random garbage, puddles of water, and the foul smell of a full dumpster. We passed the back door to Thanks a Latte, which was clearly marked, and continued on, with only about a quarter of the way left. Neither one of us spoke, and I began to relax, because with Gilley’s flashlight, the alley wasn’t nearly as creepy as it had seemed at first.
Mostly I couldn’t wait to get away from the dumpster smell.
We passed another door, which led to a hardware store, and opposite the door was a tall stack of pallets. Gilley raised his flashlight to flash across the pallets, and I followed the beam as it trailed up the stack of wood. As I was waiting for it to swoop back down to the street, the beam passed over something that didn’t belong in the scene.
I gasped.
Gilley made a startled squeaking sound, his beam now to the right of the pallets.
Slowly, he moved it back to the stack, my free hand now gripping his arm, which had begun to tremble. That was how I knew we’d both seen what I thought we’d seen.
At last the beam landed on a hand that was dangling down and wedged against a torso, which was wedged against the side of the stacked pallets.
Gil and I took an involuntary step back, the beam shaking in a perfect reflection of our mutual fear.
“Hello?” I whispered, unable to make a noise any louder than that.
There was no reply.
“Hello?” Gilley tried to speak a tad bit louder than me.
Still no reply.
My own hand trembling, I moved the arm Gilley was using to hold his phone, and the bright light moved slowly left again, until it came to rest on a blood-soaked raincoat, where it froze, because I froze, and so did Gilley.
That is, we froze until the adrenaline kicked in and we both ran as if our lives depended on it.
It took me a bit to realize that we were also screaming bloody murder (pardon the pun). As we came out into the cross street, we nearly ran headfirst into Officer Labretta, who had probably come running when she heard the screams.
“What’s going on!” she yelled, even though we were right in front of her.
Gilley and I both pointed forcefully back toward the alley. I couldn’t seem to make my vocal cords work to form words, and neither, it seemed, could Gilley, which was doubly odd as we’d just been screaming at the top of our lungs.
Labretta pulled up her flashlight, blinding us for a moment, but then she swept the beam toward the entrance to the alley. “Someone in there?” she asked.
Gilley and I nodded. Vigorously.
“Are they armed?” she said next.
We both shook our heads. Equally vigorously.
“Did they try to hurt you?” she asked next, her eyes darting from the alley to us for a quick up-down scan, then back to the alley again.
“D-d-d-d-dead,” Gilley managed as he once again pointed to the alley.
Labretta’s eyes widened. “You saw a body?”
We both went back to the vigorous nodding thing, but I managed to add, “B-b-b-blood!”
Labretta unholstered her gun and pointed it, along with the flashlight, at the area behind us. “Anybody else in that
alley besides you two?”
We both did the shaking head thing.
Labretta reached for the mic to her radio, which was snapped in place at her shoulder. She spoke in code into it, but I thought she was likely calling for backup. Sure enough, in short order the sound of pounding footsteps approached, and from around the corner emerged two uniformed police officers.
By now I thought I had some of my breathing under control, but I felt the need to clutch Gilley’s arm with both of my hands. He wrapped his palm over them and inched closer to me. We were both still trembling, but the nearness of each other was comforting.
Labretta spoke to the two officers off to the side, then motioned to me and Gilley to move toward the brick wall of the building right in front of us. We shuffled over and waited as all three uniforms cautiously approached the alley, their guns drawn and their flashlights on.
Then they disappeared in the dark, but we could see the light of their beams emanating from the alley. We waited for what felt like a very long time, but it was only likely another two or three minutes, and then Labretta emerged, her gun holstered again, and a granite set to her jaw.
“Found him,” she said.
Gilley and I squished together a little more.
“I radioed Shepherd. He’s on his way over,” she said. And then she leaned in toward us and added, “Best brace yourselves. He didn’t sound thrilled that you two had found the body.”
Neither Gilley nor I said a word in reply, but I saw out of the corner of my eye that Gilley wore an expression that likely matched my own: Yikes!
Still, I managed to square my shoulders a bit as Shepherd rounded the corner and stopped short in front of us. “What did you two do?”
I glared at him. “We used a shortcut on our way to the parking garage and discovered a dead body in an alley,” I said sharply, to let him know that I wasn’t about to put up with him giving us the third degree.
Shepherd ran his hand down the front of his face—a gesture he’d employed liberally tonight and one I knew he only made when he was particularly frustrated. He then seemed to consider us again and gave a half-hearted nod before leaving us standing there. We then watched as he moved in the direction of the entrance to the alley.
Labretta met him there, and the two disappeared into the darkness together.
“How long do we have to stand here?” Gilley asked.
The wind had picked up, and I was starting to shiver. I had only a simple pashmina to wrap around my bare shoulders.
“Who knows?” I said. There wasn’t much more that we could offer the investigation at this point, and I was still somewhat anxious to get to Sunny before she heard the news. It was a little past nine, and I knew that Sunny would be up by now, getting ready to greet her husband when he returned home. I was worried that someone within her friend circle would learn the news and tell her over a phone call or text.
Shepherd reappeared after just a few minutes, wearing black gloves and holding his phone. He approached me and covered the face of the phone with one hand while looking critically at me. “I took a picture,” he said. “The guy wasn’t wearing any ID. Are you up for taking a look at his face?”
I gulped and braced myself. “Okay,” I said.
Shepherd held the phone up to reveal the photo, and although he’d been very careful not to include anything gruesome in the shot, there was still a smudge of blood on the man’s chin, and his eyes were half-lidded and staring sightlessly out into space. He was also very, very pale and very, very dead.
I swallowed hard. It was unsettling to look at the image of a dead man, especially one I’d spoken to earlier that night. “That’s him,” I said. “That’s the man I saw in the coffee shop.”
Shepherd pulled the phone back and slid it into his pocket. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.”
“How’re you going to figure out who he is?” Gilley asked.
Shepherd pulled out a small baggie from his other pocket. “He had his key fob on him. I’ll have a uni walk around and see if he can find the car by pressing the alarm.”
“I do that in the parking lot of the grocery store,” Gilley said.
“It’s effective,” Shepherd replied. Thumbing over his shoulder, he added, “By the looks of it, we think this was a mob hit.”
My eyes widened in shock, as did Gilley’s. “A mob hit?” we both said.
“Yeah. His throat was cut, right through the carotid, hit-man style. And he’s got some money on him.”
“Why would having money on him indicate a mob hit?” I asked.
“The money is stuffed into the lining of the raincoat he’s wearing. All hundred-dollar bills. Not sure how much he’s packing, but it’s a lot. We think it’s counterfeit—otherwise the hit man would’ve taken the coat with him after doing the deed.”
“Who knew that East Hampton would be such a den of Mafia murderers?” Gilley mused.
I shuddered, thinking how close I’d come to yet another Mafia hit man. Or hit woman. Hit person. Still, I couldn’t help wondering something, so I asked, “What’s the connection to Yelena?”
Shepherd shook his head slowly. “Hell if I know, honey. I’ve known Yelena for almost twenty years, and never once did her name come up in any investigations into mob activity around here.”
“Still, it can’t be a coincidence that she was killed within a half hour of this man, right?” I pressed.
“Not in my book, it can’t. I’ll dig a little into the guy’s background once we ID him, to see what I can find out about any connection to her, but right now, these will be two separate investigations.”
I shuddered again, feeling cold all over. “Did you need us to stay and give our statements?”
Shepherd’s expression turned soft. “No. Sorry. You two should get going. I’ll get a statement from you both tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said, taking Gilley’s hand, ready to leave this horrible scene on this horrible night.
“Hold on a sec,” Shepherd said as we turned to go.
We stopped and waited for him to tell us why. Instead, he called out to Labretta, and she hurried out of the alley and over to us.
“Officer Labretta, would you please escort these two to their car and make sure they leave the area safely?”
“Absolutely, sir,” she said.
“Oh, and take this with you and see if you can locate the vic’s car.”
Shepherd offered Labretta the baggie with the key fob, and she took it dutifully. “Yes, sir.”
Shepherd then turned his attention back to me, and I offered him a grateful smile as I moved to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but his phone buzzed, and he lifted it out to read the display. “I gotta go,” he said quickly. “They think they’ve found the murder weapon.”
I didn’t know which murder he was talking about, but after squeezing my arm, he ran past me to jog across the street toward the theater, and that told me it must’ve been the weapon used to kill Yelena.
Labretta walked us all the way to our car in the parking garage, and we took our leave and were off to break the heart of someone we knew and loved. Little did I know that other hearts would soon be broken too.
Chapter 5
Sunny lived only a few streets over from me, and as we wound our way there, I tried to rehearse the words that I’d need to say to break the terrible news to her as gently as I could.
“I think you should get to the point right away,” Gilley suddenly suggested, like he’d been reading my mind. “She’s gonna find it weird that we’re showing up at her place this late at night, and we don’t want her to think that something’s happened to her brother.”
I nodded. “Great point. There isn’t any easy way to say it, though, is there?”
“No,” Gilley said. “And Sunny’s such a sensitive soul. This is going to be very hard on her.”
“What would you say to her?” I asked.
“Well,” Gilley replied,
taking a moment to think about it. “I suppose I’d tell her that I had news, that it wasn’t about Shepherd, but that it was still difficult news to hear. Then I’d ask for us all to sit down, and I’d take her hand and I’d say, ‘Sunny, I’m so, so sorry, but your brilliant, talented, gorgeous friend Yelena has left this earth, never to return.’ ”
My brow furrowed. I liked most of that. “‘Left this earth’ sounds like she’s gone on a space mission.”
Gilley nodded and waved his hand poetically. “Crossed the rainbow bridge . . .”
“That makes her sound like a pet.”
“Yelena has gone off to meet Jesus. . . .”
I stared at him. “Was she Catholic?”
Gilley’s brow furrowed. “Okay, how about ‘Sunny, your brilliant, talented friend Yelena has been taken from us too soon’? ‘She died tonight doing what she loved best, entertaining the masses and bringing laughter and light to this world.’ ”
“A bit melodramatic, but that’s not bad,” I said.
Gilley scowled. “Everyone’s a critic.”
I allowed myself a small smile. “We’ll tell her together as gently as we can and be there for as long as she needs us.”
“Agreed,” Gilley said.
We pulled into Sunny’s driveway a short time later and parked near the front door. I noticed an unfamiliar car in the drive.
“Who’s that?” Gilley asked.
“It could be the babysitter’s car.”
“The babysitter?”
“Yes. Sunny was so exhausted this afternoon that she took a sleep aid and made arrangements for Finley to be looked after while she caught some z’s. Darius is coming home tonight, and Sunny wanted to be fresh and alert for her husband’s arrival.”
“Aww,” Gilley said. “That’s so romantic!”
“It’s sweet,” I agreed. “But it’s not going to be the evening that Sunny had anticipated.”
Gilley’s expression fell. “Yeah. Almost forgot.”
As we began to climb the steps to the front porch, I couldn’t help but notice that most of the downstairs lights were on, which hopefully meant that Sunny was up.
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