The Weeping Buddha

by Heather Dune Macadam

  “Who are your sources, Aileen?” Gary asked.

  “Sherm at 7-Eleven!” She laughed. “It’s the only place besides the post office to find out what’s really going on. But, hey, it’s none a my business and I shouldn’t have asked. I just wanted to make sure you knew the latest, and I couldn’t tell Dev this morning cause she went straight into the city from work. Hey, you know when she’s coming back?”

  “I have a feeling she’s staying in for the night.”

  “I would if I were her. It’s such a long drive to go back and forth in one day, but Dev loves to drive.”

  “We gotta get going, Leenie.” Loch patted Boo one last time on the head. He and Gary started back down the street, even though Boo was whining to join him.

  “Why don’t you guys stop by later? I’ll make you some tea and give you the rest of the neighborhood scoop.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it!” he yelled back at her. They continued down the street past Concha D’oro, the bustling Italian restaurant where he and Devon enjoyed Lena’s meatballs and garlic knots almost every Friday night.

  “So,” Gary started in on him, “you not only know where Halsey lives, you know the people in her town, and her dog greets you like you’re his long lost daddy. What gives, Brennen?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Fuck you. How long has this been going on?”

  Lochwood smirked; he couldn’t help himself. “Five years,” he admitted finally to his partner.

  “You ol’ dog.” Gary slapped him on the shoulder. “I should have known. There’s been talk, but there’s always talk about Halsey.”

  “Which is why we keep it quiet. She doesn’t need people thinking she slept her way up the ladder.”

  “Hey, it’s not like you’re a sergeant!” Gary teased.

  “Which you keep reminding me of.” Loch did not seek positions that stuck him behind a desk—he liked action, not politics.

  “But you know how people are, they think what they want.” Gary looked at his watch. They had reached the end of Main Street in less than three minutes. “So this is all there is to this town?”

  “Nope.” Loch stopped and laughed. “We have to walk back to the other end.”

  “I don’t believe it, the new hot-spot of the rich and famous is barely long enough for a parade.”

  “Parades start by the Getty gas station on the edge of town; it’s almost a mile from there to Long Wharf.”

  “This town’s too small to get crowded.”

  “Not in the summer it’s not.”

  They started to cross the street as a large 4 x 4 was cutting down the lane. Gary slowed but Lochwood kept walking; the car stopped to let them pass. Gary was dumbfounded. “Pedestrians have the right of way here?”

  “Don’t it beat all?” Lochwood was enjoying showing off the little town where he and Devon had fallen in love.

  The first time she had invited him out here they had walked up and down Main Street and Loch had been amazed at how quaint and civilized Sag Harbor was. “Wait until summer,” Devon had warned him. “Barbarians at the gate.” But in that first summer, and every summer thereafter, they had holed up in her house, swam in the bay, and avoided the crowds by working weekends. The summer of love for Loch and Devon was in the ’90s, not the ’60s.

  He and Gary began walking back down the other side of Main Street. “Five years?”

  “Five,” Loch affirmed.

  “No wonder Halsey doesn’t date anyone at the precinct. And all this time the guys thought she was a dyke!”

  “Didn’t you learn anything in the cultural diversity course?”

  “It’s just you and me.” They passed Variety, the local five-and-dime where a T-shirt, still on sale from the summer, was hanging in the window. It read: “Sag Harbor, a Drinking Town with a Sailing Problem.” They then passed one of the three liquor stores Sag Harbor sported. At Schiavoni’s, the only grocery store in town, they crossed the street again to get to Long Wharf without having to navigate the traffic circle, although traffic was barely an issue the day after New Year.

  Devon sat on one of the red chairs next to the gold lion with a ball under his foot and watched the doors to Number One Chinese Restaurant swing open and shut. Open and shut. Everything reminded her of the case and all she could think was, this isn’t open and shut. A sea of Asian-American faces in large groups, families, and the occasional Caucasian passed through the foyer and headed upstairs. The twang of Chinese music amid Cantonese and Mandarin chatter from the dining rooms above trickled down the long stairwell; Devon wished her group would arrive. Then, at one o’clock, Maddie Fong, looking stylishly ’80s in head-to-toe black, came through the door. She should have leapt up to greet her old friend but she heard Broadway Bob’s description of aliens and found her words deserting her. True, he could have been talking about any number of people in Chinatown, but she could not ignore the fact that Maddie Fong was also short, dark-haired, and one of the people from the loft—so was Beka, for that matter.

  “Devon!” All five foot two inches of Maddie Fong squeezed her with surprising strength. “You look great! My god, country life must suit you.”

  “I guess, but I miss the speed of things in the city.”

  “Not me, I can’t stand New York anymore.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “The not-so-trendy North Fork.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I run a restaurant.”

  “What kind?”

  “Chinese. We have dim sum on the weekends. I told Alex and Beka to bring you up there sometime. They must have forgotten.”

  “Is that one of our crowd?” Devon pointed to a tall, light-skinned black woman with a cascade of curls tumbling down around her face who had been staring at Maddie but now turned and seemed to be looking through the crowd of people for someone in particular.

  “Katiti!” Maddie jumped up and ran out the door. “Katiti!”

  Katiti shook her head so the tangle of curls that was her hair half hid her face then swayed her hips from side to side like an island girl carrying fruit atop her head. Beka might have been the dancer in the bunch, but Katiti was the actress. “Maddie? Oh my god, I thought it was you but you still look twenty-four. Josh is parking the car. Alex is with him. I wanted to make sure we got a table.”

  “You remember Devon, Beka’s best friend?”

  “We’ve met. I came after you were a regular at the loft, though.” They shook hands while studying each other’s faces.

  “I remember you, too.” Devon tried to sound as if it were a pleasant memory, but that would have been a lie. The territorial war between Katiti and Beka—who would be reigning diva of the loft—had taken its toll on everyone. “Are you still dancing?” Devon asked.

  “I have my own company but I don’t perform as much anymore. I heard about Beka.”

  “What about her?” Maddie piped in.

  Devon could feel the blood leave her face.

  “Are you okay?” Maddie asked.

  “It’s Beka,” Devon stammered.

  “She’s not coming?” Maddie stamped her foot. “I knew it. It’s just like her to have something more important to do and stand us all up! It’s not fair, especially to you, Dev! We could have met at my place and avoided coming all the way into the city!”

  Katiti reached out with her talon-like fingernails to grab Maddie’s arm and stop her, as Devon’s mouth somehow formed the words, “Beka’s dead. So is Gabe.”

  “No …” Maddie stuttered. Devon nodded. Maddie sat down hard on the gilded chair next to the lion. “I knew something was wrong when I saw you. I was sure you would come in together. Katiti, you knew? Why didn’t you call me? When did it happen?”

  “New Year’s Eve,” Katiti said.

  “Like Todd?” Maddie began to cry. “Why didn’t I know about it?”

  “It was on the news,” Katiti informed her.

  Devon wasn’t ready to deal with everyone else’s emotions regarding B
eka’s death and began to think she’d made a mistake in coming. How could Maddie have managed not to hear about Beka? Something that Maddie had just said made her ask, “Why is it like Todd? Todd disappeared. Beka and Gabe are dead.”

  Maddie continued blubbering.

  “I tried to call you, Maddie, but you weren’t home, and this isn’t the sort of thing to leave on the answering machine.” Katiti seemed rather nervous as she spoke, as if she were trying to justify something not yet asked for.

  Devon mused. Maybe she had not made a mistake coming to dim sum, it might turn out to be more than a little informative—if she could just stay objective and keep her own emotions in check.

  “Alex had Newsday in the car. I only read the Times myself, but you know Alex—three papers a day.” Katiti added, “It’s terrible what they said about you at the scene, Devon.”

  “You were there?” Maddie almost screamed her outrage. Devon nodded but remained silent. “Oh my god, how could you do that?”

  “I did my job and tried not to think about who they were.” She felt amazingly cool and collected as she responded and tried to assess whether or not Maddie was over-acting. And why was Katiti tossing her head back and forth, looking out the door every few seconds?

  Katiti caught Devon watching her and struck a catlike pose.

  “Where’s Josh?”

  Devon shrugged and made two mental notes: first, if Beka had actually set up this reunion she would have missed it anyway, because she was supposed to be in Hawaii; and second, Beka had not invited her, Alex had.

  “Was it really a murder/suicide?” Katiti asked softly, but something in her tone of voice made Devon doubt her sincerity.

  “It’s an open investigation, and I didn’t come here to tell you guys what I know. I came here for some support and some …” Tears welled up in Devon’s eyes; she would be able to observe them better if everyone treated her as the poor grieving friend and not an investigator on the case.

  “This is worse than Todd,” Maddie whispered, “much worse.”

  Hans was stuck. Usually he found comfort when chiseling his great wooden sculptures, and often answers came to him unawares, as if he were sitting zazen rather than working through chips of bark and pulp. Seeing Devon’s name on the prayer rolls had disturbed his serenity. He pounded one section of the wood slab he was trying to mold into shape, then paused to caress the wood and check the contour.

  He had called and left a message for her at home but she had not returned his call yet, and impatience nagged at his consciousness. He tried to remember what Beka had said about the boy Todd, something about Todd and Gabe? Or was it Edilio and Todd? There were so many people that she used to hang out with that he could not be sure. Beka had run with a faster crowd than Hans was accustomed to, but he had never held it against her. He never held anything against anyone, but the more he thought about it the more he wondered if that night back in 1984 had anything to do with the reason she was now dead. And was what had happened pertinent to Devon Halsey’s safety?

  Like one of the Titans, he lifted his mallet and hewed a chunk out of the wood he was sculpting. Why else would her name be on the prayer rolls?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Wu Wang: Innocence (The Unexpected).

  By turning back one is freed of guilt.

  —I Ching, 25

  “There’s Josh and Alex.” Katiti pointed outside the doors of the restaurant.The newcomers saw Devon at the same time, but neither smiled.Alex hugged Devon tightly, stifling a small sob, as Josh squeezed her shoulder. They had all been such good friends at one time, why had they all drifted apart? What had happened? Then Devon remembered—Todd had happened.

  Godwyn’s cocky British accent flitted over the Asian heads bobbing past them as the lanky Ghanese photographer, whose blueblack skin seemed to shimmer in the winter sun, grabbed Alex from behind. In seconds everyone was hugging each other—or were they clinging? Desperation as real as death’s sickle grabbed at their shoulders and necks as if trying to keep a grip on the past that was slipping through their fingers. They stood apart then and looked at one another, judging the bits of gray hair that Clairol was covering, the softer faces that were pre—face lift age but post-youth.

  “Who would have thought after all these years we’d all still be alive?” Godwyn said. The group looked at him, shocked by his words.

  “Almost all of us,” Devon said quietly.

  “Where’s Sam?” Maddie asked.

  “Screw Sam, where’s my Beka?” Godwyn looked up and down the street. “She come with you, did she, Dev?” They were standing inside the foyer now, blocking the arterial flow of pedestrian traffic up and down the stairwell of Number One Chinese Restaurant, as a sudden rush of reality whirred in her ears and Godwyn’s face grew ashen.

  Devon reached for his arm. “She’s gone, God.”

  “Gone where? Hawaii?”

  Devon stared at him. Had he known about her trip?

  “She’s dead, mate.” Josh squeezed his ex-roommate’s shoulder.

  “That’s not bloody funny.” His eyes narrowed as he pulled away.

  “Helluva joke!”

  Alex took his other arm. “It’s no joke, God. She’s dead, and so is Gabe.”

  Loch and Gary got to the Sag Harbor Pilates studio just as one of the instructors was heading out the door. She was coifed in a tightly pulled-back ponytail and looked to be about twenty-four years old.“Excuse me, miss?” Loch took the opportunity to waylay her outside.“You work there?”

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty new. Pam can explain things better than I can.” She seemed inordinately nervous, or perhaps just high-strung.Dancers all seemed to be high-strung.

  “This isn’t about exercising,” Gary tried to explain.

  “We’re with Homicide.” Lochwood discretely showed her his badge.

  “This is my partner, Detective DeBritzi. I’m Detective Brennen.”

  “It’s about Beka, isn’t it?” Her eyes seemed to glaze over.

  Not the brightest bulb in the lot, Loch figured to himself, and decided to be as gentle as possible with her. “What can you tell us about them?” He used his most soothing voice.

  “Edilio and Beka?” She looked up and down the wharf, tensely, then said, “Everyone knew they were breaking up because they had a fight right in the studio just before Christmas.”

  This was interesting news and Lochwood did not want her to know that he had been referring to Gabe and Beka. “They were breaking up their business partnership, or something more?”

  “I don’t know, I wasn’t there. Pam could tell you for sure. But I heard that Beka told him she wanted him out of the business and out of her life.”

  “What day was that?”

  “Just before he left for vacation.”

  “Do you remember her exact words?”

  “Yeah, ‘Go away and don’t come back. I’m sick of you taking advantage of me.’” She paused.

  “Any idea where he was going for vacation?”

  “Hawaii.” She stamped her feet in an effort to warm them. “Can I go now? I wasn’t supposed to work today and I have things to do.”

  “Can we get your phone number? We might need to ask you a few more questions.”

  “Sure.” She rattled off her number and sped down the pier toward Main Street.

  Gary looked over at his partner. “Do you think there was something between Edilio and Beka?”

  “Sounds like.”

  “Then why didn’t Halsey tell us? I thought they were best friends.”

  “Maybe they weren’t as close as she thought,” Loch said, more to himself than to his partner. He looked at his watch and wondered where Devon and her so-called friends were at that moment.

  Feeling like the odd one out, Devon unwrapped her chopsticks slowly, gathering her thoughts together as she watched the group’s dynamic. They were sitting at a large round table staring at each other, awkwardly waiting for one of the many carts to make its way toward them s
o the feast could begin, and yet no one seemed eager to eat. Katiti poured herself a cup of tea; Devon silently disapproved.Traditionally, it was proper to pour tea for the people sitting next to you, then pour your own. Devon poured Alex’s tea before her own, and saw Maddie reciprocally pouring Godwyn’s first and then reaching across Katiti to fill Josh’s cup.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Godwyn’s voice trembled as he looked almost accusingly at Devon.

  “She can’t say anything about the case,” Katiti informed him.

  Devon judged Godwyn’s grief by her own, and wondered if it was sincerity or fear lurking behind his obsidian eyes. It was no secret he had been in love with Beka years ago and perhaps still was, but he and Maddie had also been an item back then. They used to refer to Godwyn as their generic lover—it had seemed funny back then.

  “I never thought anything good would come of marrying Gabe,”

  Josh said. He draped his arm around Devon’s shoulder, but was looking at his wife. “If you need anything, please call us. We’re practically neighbors now.” He smiled at Katiti, but Devon could not make out if it was a fuck-you smile, or don’t-you-agree-honey smile. “It was Katiti’s idea for us to become East Enders.”

  Katiti’s eyes flashed with wicked daggers at her husband’s head, and Devon recalled that Josh had also been one of the generic loft lovers.

  Josh nodded at Godwyn. “A little more upscale than the London East End, though.”

  “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Godwyn shook his head as if to clear any possibility of tears from his eyes. Josh’s attempt at conversation having failed, they once again stared at each other across the table.

  “We love the East End.” Katiti tried to support her husband.“Especially the summer. There are so many parties.”

  Godwyn’s half-lidded eyes glared at Katiti. “A bit too posh for us real people. I haven’t been out there since Beka’s last big bash. Now that was a party, wasn’t it, Dev? Course, Beka knows how to throw a party.”