Gilley cleared his throat and squirmed in his chair. “Mrs. Cohen was the one who sent the email.”
My jaw fell open, and heat rose to my cheeks. I was embarrassed and irritated; I’d worked hard for Leslie.
“Well, I hope Leslie lives up to her potential,” I said stiffly.
Gilley forced a smile and looked at me with sympathetic eyes.
“Who else is on my calendar for next week?” I said, moving on.
Gilley’s forced smile turned to a grimace. “Just Chrissy,” he said, referring to my longest-running client to date.
Chrissy was on her fourth marriage, and that was also headed for splitsville. She was an absolute pain in the tokus: needy, uncooperative, argumentative. And she rarely listened to my advice, much less took it. I’d been working with her for six months, and we’d made very little headway. I’d tried to fire her three times, but she had always managed to cause such an emotional scene that I’d allowed her back.
“What about Esther?” I asked, referring to one of my elderly clients.
“She and her husband are on vacation in Greece next week, remember?”
“Yes,” I said. “What about Virginia?”
“She and her husband are going with Esther.”
I blinked in surprise. “They are? I didn’t even realize they were friends.”
“They weren’t until they both started seeing you.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
“Esther met Virginia while both of them were waiting on us to arrive the day that I accidentally overbooked them for the same appointment, remember?”
“Oh, yes. I do remember that. Bad day for us, being late and double-booking them.”
“I’ve apologized a bajillion times, Cat,” Gilley said moodily.
“I know, lovey. And I’ve accepted that. I was merely commenting on the memory of that day.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad, because Virginia and Esther are now buddies.”
“So, nobody else is on the books?” I asked, a bit panicked. My business was an ebb-and-flow kind of deal, and truth be told, I’d seen a lot more ebbs than flows.
“Not unless Aaron Nassau wants to schedule another session.”
“Did you follow up with him?”
“Not yet,” Gilley said testily.
I smiled and tried to convey that I wasn’t being critical. “Why don’t we reach out now?” I said. “I’d like to know how he’s coping after such an emotional time yesterday.”
Gilley whipped out his phone and scrolled through it before finding Aaron’s number, pressing CALL, and putting the phone to his ear.
A moment later he said, “Aaron? Gilley Gillespie, Cat Cooper’s assistant.” Gilley paused, and his expression registered concern.
“What?” I said softly.
Gilley caught my gaze and simply handed me the phone. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered.
I placed the phone to my own ear and heard quiet whimpering. “Aaron?” I said. “It’s Catherine Cooper. I’m calling to check on you. How’re you doing?”
There was loud sniffling on the other end of the call. “Not well, Catherine.”
“Oh, my, Aaron. I’m so sorry. Are you still upset about our conversation yesterday?”
“I take it you don’t read the papers,” he said.
My brow furrowed. “Actually, I do. And if memory serves me, the markets are all up this morning, and the forecast for the rest of this year looks promising.”
“Oh, I don’t give a fig about the markets right now,” Aaron said, his voice hitching on a small but unmistakable sob.
And then, like a big old light bulb turning on in my mind, I put two and two together and actually gasped into the phone. “Ohmigod, Aaron . . .Yelena Galanis. She was your ex, wasn’t she?”
The sound of Aaron weeping absolutely gutted me. “I . . . can’t . . . believe . . . she’s gone!” he sobbed.
I bit my lip and realized that Gilley was staring at me with his mouth agape. I could see the sympathy in his own eyes for poor Aaron.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I said to the count. “This must be such a blow.”
His weeping intensified.
I looked at Gilley, absolutely pained by the fact that this poor dear man was sobbing his heart out and I was helpless to comfort him other than to speak a few words of sympathy. “What can we do for you, Aaron?” I finally said.
He didn’t answer. He simply wept.
By now, Gilley had gotten up from his chair and moved to the kitchen. He brought back a pad of paper and a pen, and then he wrote out a note. It read, Should we go to him?
I nodded. That was exactly what we needed to do.
“Aaron,” I said gently, “Gilley and I are coming over. You shouldn’t be alone right now. You can expect us in twenty minutes or so.” I didn’t know where Aaron lived, but most people in the Hamptons were at most fifteen to twenty minutes away from each other no matter in which direction you drove.
“Okay,” Aaron squeaked, and he hung up.
I got up and gathered my purse as Gilley knelt down next to Spooks and whispered in his ear. The dog’s short tail tapped against the couch cushion, but he didn’t move as we headed out the door.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked Gil while he pulled the door shut.
“Spooks or the count?”
“Spooks.”
“He’ll be fine. His paperwork said he was a super-calm pup, with no obvious signs of separation anxiety.”
“Good,” I said, and we hurried to the car. After we got in, Gilley tapped on his phone again, then plugged Aaron’s address into the car’s navigation system while I backed out of the driveway.
When we got on the road, Gilley said, “He’s in Amagansett, near Indian Wells Beach.”
“I told him we’d be there in twenty minutes.”
“We’ll have a little time to spare, which is why I think we should stop and get him something to eat. He’ll need nourishment and liquids.”
“Great idea. What’d you have in mind?”
“How about Faye’s Pho?” Gil suggested. “Pho is the ultimate comfort food. And it’s fast.”
“Agreed. Put in an order, will you?”
Gilley tapped at his screen some more. “Done. And I put in an order for us too. We can heat it up for a snack when we get home. That Caesar salad didn’t fill me up.”
After picking up the takeout, we were soon in Aaron’s neighborhood, which was a particularly tony part of East Hampton.
The estates were enormous, and I was a bit jealous that they each had such a deep lot with a large section of private beach.
“Wow,” Gilley said as we wound along a particularly curvy road. “This is even nicer than your neighborhood.”
“It is,” I said. “But probably fitting for a Danish count, right?”
“If he lives around here, he’s definitely got money,” Gilley said. “Big bucks.”
The turn-by-turn directions pointed us to Bluff Road, and I pulled the car into one of the drives off that road. The driveway was long and sloped upward under a canopy of tall trees. At last, we stopped at a rectangular-looking structure with narrow windows and consisting of two levels, which looked like they were made of poured concrete. No, scratch that. The place looked like a prison.
“Not the friendliest-looking home,” Gilley said as we came to a stop at the front door.
“No. It’s not. But we’re not here to criticize. We’re here to offer support and comfort.”
Gilley reached behind him for the carryout bag from Faye’s, and we exited the car and approached the two front steps leading to the door. Gilley motioned for me to go in front of him, so I was the first to press the doorbell.
It gonged loudly from inside.
Gilley rocked back on his heels a few times while we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“Press it again,” Gil said, nodding toward the doorbell.
It had made suc
h a loud sound before that I was a hesitant to ring it again. “What if he’s indisposed?”
“What if he was out back and didn’t hear it the first time?”
“He knew we were coming over.” I didn’t want to be one of those guests who pressed the bell like an impatient pedestrian at a crosswalk.
Gilley sighed dramatically, then reached around me to press the bell himself. It gonged for a second time, and I cringed at the thought that Aaron was somewhere inside, irritated that we weren’t a little more patient.
Gil and I continued to wait in silence for another minute or two, and I’ll admit that I was now a bit worried that neither gong had produced the count at the door.
“You’re sure you got the right address?” I asked Gil.
He eyed me with heavy lids.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Sheesh, you don’t have to yell.”
Gilley chuckled. “I mean, please, Cat. You’ve known me for how long and you still second-guess my internet sleuthing skills?”
“Right. Shame on me,” I said, but I was a little distracted, as I was looking around the drive for any signs that Aaron might be outside.
Seeing no sign of him, I glanced next at my phone and noted the time. “Where could he be?”
“Honestly, why isn’t there a maid or a butler to answer the bell?” Gilley said. He then handed me the carryout bag and turned to walk back down the steps.
“Where’re you going?” I asked.
He pointed toward the side of the yard, and when he disappeared around the corner, I hustled down the steps to follow him.
A concrete pathway led us to the back of the house and a narrow lap pool. The scrubby backyard fell away from the house in an open slope that allowed a spectacular view of the ocean.
“Nice,” Gil said, pausing to admire the view.
I glanced at it but then focused on the pool area. There was nothing but a few patio chairs, the pool, and a grill set against the house. No sign of Aaron.
Gilley stopped admiring the view and walked right up to the twin sliding-glass doors. I squinted toward them but couldn’t see anyone inside.
That, of course, didn’t stop Gilley from moving right up to the doors and cupping his hands to peer inside.
I gasped. “Gilley, stop that!”
He continued to peer inside, so I hustled up to him and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. “I’m serious!”
Gilley stepped back from the doors, clearly impatient and annoyed. “We’ve been out here waiting for him to answer for hours,” he complained.
“Three minutes,” I corrected. “But yes, I agree. It’s far too long for our arrival to go unanswered.”
After handing him back the carryout bag, I lifted my phone and began to tap at the scree"n while retracing my steps along the pathway toward the front of the house with Gilley trailing behind me.
“Who’re you calling?” he asked when we reached the front of the house again.
“Aaron,” I said. I put the phone to my ear and listened through the five rings. Then it went to voice mail. “Aaron? It’s Catherine. Gilley and I are at your door, and we rang the doorbell twice. If you’re not up for company, I totally understand, but would you at least let us know if you’re all right? I’m worried.”
I hung up the call and stared at my phone, waiting for a message or a call or something from Aaron to let me know that he knew we were there but wasn’t up for visitors. After another minute or two, I took up tapping at my phone again.
“Now who’re you calling?” Gilley asked.
“Shepherd,” I said, then raised a finger to my lips when I heard him pick up the line.
“Hey,” he said, as if he were in a rush. “I’m a little busy. Can I call you later?”
“Actually, I’m calling with a concern, and I may need an officer of the law,” I said.
Shepherd’s tone turned crisp with focus. “What kind of concern?”
“Gilley and I are at a client’s home. We’re checking on him because he’s having a difficult time, emotionally speaking. And we confirmed that we’d be over within twenty minutes or so, but now he’s not answering the doorbell or my calls.”
“How difficult a time, emotionally speaking, are we talking?”
“Enough for me to be a tiny bit panicked that he’s not answering the bell.”
“I’m on it,” he said. “I’ll get a uniform over to do a wellness check. What’s the address?”
“Actually, we’re in Amagansett,” I said, remembering that this town wasn’t in Shepherd’s jurisdiction.
“Huh,” he said. “I was just in that neck of the woods, and I’ve got a crew headed out there now too.”
“You were? You do?”
“Give me the address and I’ll call over to APD and have them send a uni,” he said.
“Six-one-seven Bluff Road.”
There was no acknowledgment from Shepherd, so I said, “Shep? You there?”
“I’m here,” he said. “Your client wouldn’t be Aaron Nassau, would it?”
My eyes widened, and I pulled in my chin in surprise.
Gilley, staring at me intently, mouthed, What?
“Yes. Yes, that’s him,” I told Shepherd, getting a bad feeling. “How did you know?”
“Your client is fine,” Shepherd said. “Well, relatively speaking. He’s about to be charged with murder.”
My jaw dropped, and I shook my head.
“What?” Gilley said. “Cat, what!”
“What do you mean, he’s being charged with murder!” I yelled.
I hadn’t meant to screech at Shepherd; it was just too preposterous to contemplate. My sweetheart was a wonderful man; however, he had one very bad habit of arresting first and asking questions later.
“Cat, listen, I can’t talk about this right now. I gotta prep for the interrogation. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Interrogation?”
“Interview,” Shepherd said with a chuckle. “I meant interview.”
I said nothing for a moment, my mind racing furiously, while Gilley continued to look at me in earnest. And then my eyes narrowed, and I said, “Is Aaron’s lawyer there?”
It was Shepherd’s turn to be quiet for a moment. “No,” he said softly. “He hasn’t asked for one yet.”
“Gotta go!”
“Cat! Wait! Don’t you dare get invol—”
I hung up by pressing my finger angrily against the red button at the bottom of my phone and immediately flipped over to my contacts list.
“Let me guess,” Gilley said when I placed the phone at my ear for a third time. “You’re calling Marcus.”
I put a hand on my hip and ground my teeth. “Damn straight I’m calling Marcus!”
Marcus Brown was the best defense attorney in all of Long Island. He’d represented me when Shepherd arrested me for murder (which I hadn’t committed), and he’d also represented two other friends of mine when they’d been hauled down to the station by my overzealous main squeeze.
Marcus had easily won a dismissal in each of those cases. Shepherd’s circumstantial evidence was no match for Marcus Brown in a courtroom.
“Catherine Cooper,” Marcus purred, picking up the call on the first ring. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“Hello, my friend,” I said, warmed by his greeting. “I need you.”
“Personally or professionally?”
“The latter.”
I heard the crinkle of paper, and I imagined Marcus turning to a fresh page on his legal pad. “Talk to me.”
I told Marcus about Aaron and how Shepherd had just arrested him.
“That man never passes up an opportunity to arrest first and ask questions later,” Marcus said with a sigh.
I stifled a chuckle, as I’d already thought that same thing. “Right?”
“Whose murder is he about to be charged with?” Marcus asked.
“Probably Yelena Galanis’s,” I said. “Shepherd was on the case last night, right a
fter it happened.”
Absolute silence filled the connection.
“Marcus?”
“I’m here,” he said. But then he said nothing more.
“Are you all right?” I asked, because it was such an odd reaction.
“Fine,” he said quickly. “Catherine, are you willing to Venmo me for the initial hour with Nassau? I can reimburse you once he retains me, but should he refuse my services, I won’t be able to represent him in this matter.”
“Of course, Marcus. I’ll send that Venmo right over.”
“Perfect. I’ll call Shepherd and insist that he cease questioning Mr. Nassau until I get there.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
I hung up with Marcus and handed the phone to Gilley. “I need to know what a Venmo is and how to make a payment for an hour of Marcus’s time,” I said.
Gilley smirked.
“Stop smirking!”
Gilley’s smirk turned into a giggle. “You’re the mother of teenagers. How is it you don’t know this stuff? Like, doesn’t it ever come up in casual conversation?”
“I’m the mother of teenage boys. They don’t talk to me. They grunt.”
“Ah. Fair point.”
Gilley did some stuff on my phone, tilting the screen toward me so that I could watch, but truly my mind was elsewhere, and I was simply happy when he announced, “Done. Marcus has been retained for the hour.”
“Perfect,” I said, beginning to walk away. “Come on,” I called over my shoulder.
“I’d ask where we’re going, but I already know our next stop will be to the East Hampton Police Department.”
“Damn straight,” I growled, balling my hands into fists.
“Cool,” Gilley replied. “I love a good fireworks show.”
Pulling open the driver’s side door, I snapped, “Just get in!”
Gilley opened his door, placing his free hand over his mouth to suppress a giggle. “And the light show has already started!”
Chapter 9
As we turned back onto the road, retracing our way to East Hampton, Gilley remarked, “Kind of amazing that in the twenty-five minutes it took us to get here, Shepherd arrived and arrested Aaron.”
“We always did have fabulous timing,” I muttered.
“Are you mad at Shepherd?”
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