by Tessa Kelly
Hemingway’s eyes narrowed. He flicked his tail in apparent annoyance.
“Fine.” I pushed my chair away from the desk.
This wasn’t working. Events were getting out of hand and keeping them to myself only made my brain hurt.
There was nothing for it. To have any peace of mind, I needed to come clean.
Starting with my brother.
I took my phone and dialed Will’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“Hey! I was just going to call you.” He sounded in a good mood. My news was about to change that. A heavy sigh escaped my lips.
“Will, can we talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”
His voice rang with instant worry. “What happened? Is it Dad? Kathy?”
“They’re fine. It’s nothing like that. But...you’re going to be mad at me in a moment.”
There was a pause, then he said in a low voice. “What did you do? Come on, out with it.”
I swallowed. “Last night, after Felisha and I got home from the gallery, Josh showed up at our place. He was very upset. He asked for my help with the murder investigation.” I relayed the entire conversation to him.
Will listened without interrupting, but there was a deadly silence on the other end. I could almost feel his anger rolling over me. Somehow, instead of making me more nervous, it gave me strength. A friend needed my help, and that was more important than Will wanting to keep me away from his case.
“I’m not breaking any rules,” I told him. “And I’ll do my best to stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But I’m going to look into this, and I hope you can understand why I have to do it.”
He took in a long breath, trying to control his anger. Silent, I waited, giving him time to absorb my news.
Finally, he said, “All right. Once you’ve made up your mind it’s impossible to talk you out of it, so I won’t stand in your way. But on one condition.”
I gripped the phone tightly. If he was going to tell me Josh was guilty and I shouldn’t bother proving it otherwise, I would have to say ‘no’.
“What’s the condition?”
“You’re not to go off on your own and fly into danger the way you did the last time,” he said. “Where this case is concerned, I want to know where you go, and I want to know all the facts that you find out. I can’t protect you otherwise. Do you understand?”
Protect me? Who said I needed protecting?
“Will, I’m not a little girl anymore. I think you’re forgetting I’m older than you are.”
He chuckled, though he still sounded exasperated. “It’s not a question about who’s older. I’m the detective. I’m trained to deal with dangerous situations. You’re not. I have to make sure you don’t get into harm’s way. If something happened to you while on my watch, do you think I’d be able to keep doing my job? Or face Dad?”
I swallowed as my eyes welled up with tears. I hadn’t realized how responsible Will felt for me. I’d been so focused on helping Josh, defiant over being warned off the case, that I hadn’t stopped to consider why my brother was acting the way he did. I’d assumed it was professional pride.
I should have known better.
“I won’t put myself in any dangerous situations,” I promised him. “If I can help it, of course. And if I find out anything new, you’ll be the first to know. So...I should probably tell you what I learned today.”
I told Will about what happened at the AGER and about the meeting with Caroline. I could tell he was unhappy about my going to the gallery on my own but he refrained from commenting on it, focusing instead on the facts.
“The thing is, just because Dan Cobbs was seen driving by Alexa’s house doesn’t make him a stalker,” he said. “The chair-throwing worries me a lot more, though. It shows an unstable mind.”
“You didn’t see him,” I said. “The man is under so much pressure he’s ready to fly off the handle. A lot of it’s probably self-induced. Some people are just high-strung like that. But if I were the owner of that gallery, I’d insist Dan take a very long vacation.”
“I’ll look into him again,” Will said after a pause. “Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye. For now, I better let you go. Get some rest. You sound tired.”
“I’ll do that.”
As we hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. I might actually relax and get some sleep tonight.
Then my door flew open and Felisha burst in, flushed with excitement.
“Sandie, I totally figured out how to get Tyrone to pay more attention to me! I think the problem is that we’ve been in a rut lately, always doing the same things, going to the same clubs... Ugh. He’s bored, that’s what it is. I mean, I’m bored, too. So I decided to surprise him. We’re going away to a Bed and Breakfast in Montauk for the weekend. I mean, we’re a couple, right? We should have a getaway, that’s what couples do. It’s going to be so romantic! We’ll be at the beach, we’ll relax, have some wine. It’ll bring us closer together. What do you think? It’s great, right? I’m going to book it now!”
She didn’t wait for me to respond as she flew out of the room again. I stared at the open door, listening as she hummed in the next room while punching the keys on her laptop. Researching romantic B&B’s for her and her cheating boyfriend. What a nightmare!
I had to tell her. Now.
Getting up, I marched into her room. “Felisha, I need to tell you something.”
She looked up at me, her face glowing. Seeing my expression, her eyebrows pinched together. “What is it? You’re worrying me.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I couldn’t do it.
“I talked to Dad,” I said finally. “He’s not happy with Marlowe staying the night. I have to take him back.”
“Oh.” She nodded with a little frown. “Okay. It’s too bad, actually. I was looking forward to another overnight guest.”
“Well, Dad will probably go fishing again soon. We’ll talk him into leaving Marlowe behind next time.”
Like that was the biggest of our problems.
Unable to look at her unsuspecting face any longer, I marched into the hallway and put on my jacket.
Obeying the cue, Marlowe came trotting out of the kitchen, his tongue hanging out in excited anticipation of another walk.
“Twice in one night,” I told him as I clipped the leash on his collar. “One man’s anguish is another dog’s delight, eh?”
Out on the quiet street, my feet carried me in the opposite direction from Dad’s house. Before long, I realized where I was heading. The art gallery.
I slowed down my pace.
Why here? There wouldn’t be anyone inside at this hour. Even the overworked Dan Cobbs would’ve gone home by now. Or to a pub to drown his worries in a pint.
But a hunch is a hunch, and I trusted mine.
Beside me, Marlowe made a step forward, straining the leash.
“Yep. I think we have the same idea,” I told him.
He wagged his tail without turning, his head raised in expectation.
But an expectation of what?
Even from several yards away I could tell the main entrance was closed for the night. The building had an aura of lifelessness about it, the kind that permeates the walls at the end of a long day, once the people had gone home and left it to creak and groan its troubles to absent ears.
Something about the place gave me a shiver and made me stop. Taking a deep breath, I forced my feet to keep moving.
The next moment, I ducked behind a corner when the side door of the gallery opened and a tall figure in a navy parka slipped out, looking around uneasily.
Marlowe wagged his tail and tried to pull me forward but I took a firm grip on the leash and dragged him to stand behind my legs.
“Stay.”
Carefully, I leaned around to take a peek at the street, hoping I was wrong. Plenty of tall men in this city wore navy parkas.
But not a lot of them had dark curly hair. And e
ven fewer rode green bicycles they’d bought at a used-bike shop.
Josh ran to the curb and undid the lock on the chain with trembling hands, then glanced around, checking if anyone had seen him.
His face was white and the eyes had a wild, frantic look in them. He mounted his bike in one swift motion and sped down the street before I could make up my mind whether to confront him.
My heart beat painfully in my chest. What had he been doing at the gallery at this hour?
Taking a deep breath, I stepped from around the corner and walked toward the gallery’s side entrance.
The door was closed, but not locked. I inched inside, keeping a firm grip on Marlowe’s leash. He growled and flattened his floppy ears as he pulled me after him down the dim corridor.
My other hand closed around the marble pendant on my neck, squeezing it so hard my fingers hurt. I didn’t know where I was going. I simply followed Marlowe’s lead until the corridor opened up into the showing room. Enormous, it closed in around me with a deafening, suffocating silence.
The only thing louder than that silence was the body of Dan Cobbs sprawled out in the center of the floor.
Blood pooled around his head like a dark halo. His arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles.
I clapped my hand to my mouth, breathing hard to keep from screaming. Or vomiting.
Suddenly, I was one of the gallery’s art pieces, unable to move as I stood there.
A frozen witness.
Chapter 12
Marlowe jerking the leash as he strained to run to the body broke the spell.
I pulled him back, my other hand reaching into my pocket for the phone. I searched for my brother’s name, but wooden fingers pressed the wrong number and I had to hang up and start over. Finally, I got him.
“Sandie? What’s up?”
Hearing him on the other end immediately made me feel calmer. Still, my voice trembled. “Will, I’m at the AGER. Please get over here now. It’s Dan Cobbs. He’s dead.”
There was a moment of silence, then his voice came back, urgent. “On my way. Are you still in the building?”
“Yes.”
“Get out of there now. Wait for me out on the street and make sure there are people around.”
He didn’t need to tell me that. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with a dead body.
Marlowe wasn’t as easily convinced, though. I had to tow him out as he whined and barked, and echoes of his protests reverberated throughout the empty corridor as we ran.
Once outside again, the gravity of what I’d just seen hit me like a truck. I bent over with my hands on my knees, trying not to hyperventilate.
Marlowe made an attempt to go back in, then gave up the fight against the leash and came over to lick my face. I patted him with a shaking hand.
“You have a morbid curiosity, my friend.”
We didn’t have to wait long for the police. My brother’s car pulled up five minutes later, followed by two other police vehicles.
Will jumped out before his partner made a full stop and stormed over, yelling before he even reached me.
“What the heck were you thinking coming down here again? Alone. Did our talk mean squat to you?”
I blinked at him towering over me. Automatic words of apology formed on my lips but then stayed there, unuttered as indignation rose its glowering head.
Will had no right to berate me like that. In front of his colleagues, no less.
My voice rang out just as loudly as his. “I don’t go looking for dead bodies, okay? Marlowe and I were out walking and ended up here. And maybe, instead of fighting with me, you should be doing your job.”
“Uh-huh.” Will crossed his hands over his chest and glared at me. “I am doing my job. Unlike you, who’s got no business to be here. And, as part of this doing my job thing, let me get some facts straight. You ambled over with Marlowe for no apparent reason and then you thought, hey! Since I’m here anyways, I'll just sneak into the gallery and snoop around. Never mind that it’s a crime scene, or that I promised my brother not to go near it. Is that how it happened? No, please! Correct me if I’m wrong.”
His rant over, Will raised his eyebrows and waited for me to reply.
Two paramedics went past us into the building, pretending they couldn’t hear us. A CSI woman threw us a surreptitious glance as she walked briskly after them.
This was ridiculous. Humiliation heating my face, I glared back at my brother, holding on to self-control with every last bit of willpower.
Will’s partner left the car and came up to us. He nudged my brother on the shoulder. “Hey, man, give her a break. Can’t you see she’s all shook up?”
Will acted like he hadn’t heard him and continued to rake my face with his narrowed eyes.
“Well? Why did you go in?”
I took a deep breath. I had to tell him. There was no way around it.
“Look, Will. I had no intention of going in when I came here. But, then... I saw Josh leaving the place. He came out by the side exit. He looked scared, like something bad had just happened.”
Will’s eyes flashed. “You saw Josh here?”
I nodded.
“I see. Stay here.”
Without another word, he turned and headed into the building.
I glanced at Ryan. “This isn’t over with him.”
He shrugged. “Just give him a few minutes to cool off. He worries about you a lot since you’ve taken to solving murders for the police.”
“I know. Just wish he’d lay off scolding me.”
Ryan gave me one of those looks that said “hang in there, sport” and followed Will into the building.
Several police vehicles gathered at the curb. Other cars had a hard time passing them on the narrow cobbled street, though the cops weren’t the only ones clogging up the traffic. Some drivers were slowing down on purpose. Rolling down their windows, they stuck their heads out to stare at all the excitement.
I glanced down at Marlowe with a shrug. “I guess dogs aren’t the only ones with the morbid curiosity, huh?”
Marlowe blinked up at me and fidgeted, ready to spring into action at my prompting.
Meanwhile, the police activity began to attract the attention of pedestrians who gathered in a loose crowd behind the barricade the cops had put up to close off the sidewalk. People threw me inquisitive glances, probably wondering about the lone woman with a dog standing there without purpose.
Sitting at my feet, Marlowe whined again. I nodded, the first stupor of shock giving way to rational thought again.
“You’re right, this is stupid. He might as well have tied both of us to a lamp post. Don’t know about you, but I don’t care what mood he’s in. I’ve had enough.”
Turning, I marched back into the gallery.
In the showing room, Dan’s body hadn’t been moved yet. The CSI woman was kneeling next to it, examining something at Dan’s right foot. Will and Ryan were stooping over her carefully, speaking in low voices.
Will raised his eyes to me. With a sigh of resignation, he straightened and made his way over to where I stood behind the yellow tape.
“All right. Since nothing I say keeps you out of here, might as well put in your two cents. What do you think happened?”
“It wasn’t an accident,” I said, looking past him at what used to be the associate curator Dan Cobbs. “The body is on its back. That means he fell backward over the balustrade. It’s unlikely he did that without help.”
The left side of Will’s mouth twitched. “He took a tumble from the mezzanine, breaking his neck in the fall. It wasn't an accident, you’re right. Or a suicide, either. There are bruises on his neck and pieces of dark cloth fiber under his fingernails to indicate he was being chocked and struggled with the assailant.” He paused, then added, “I’d like to know what he was doing here this late in the evening. Knowing that might give us a clue. But, maybe Josh will help clear that up.”
“You’re going to arrest him, are
n’t you?” I asked bleakly.
Even after what I had seen, I could hardly believe Josh was capable of killing anyone.
But my eyes hadn’t lied. There was no reason I could think of to explain why Josh would be at the gallery tonight.
Will’s narrowed gaze fixed on me again. “You should’ve called me right away, instead of going in here by yourself,” he said.
I shrugged, the fight suddenly going out of me. It felt as if I’d run a marathon. I needed to sit down.
“I just had to see what was in there,” I said, more to myself than to him. “But you’re right, I suppose I should’ve called you.”
He nodded and said in a softer voice, “I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but might be a while still. You shouldn’t walk home in the dark. I’ll drive you.”
I was about to agree when my attention was drawn by the paramedics loading Dan’s body onto the stretcher.
Something tiny and shiny fell on the floor with a soft tinkle. I moved toward the yellow tape, peering to see.
“What’s that?”
Ryan, being the closest to it, stooped and lifted the object from the floor using pincers. He placed it in a plastic bag, then walked over and showed it to us.
Inside the bag was a small metal label with a piece of dark-brown thread clinging to it.
“That was torn off from a piece of clothing,” I said.
Will called to the paramedics who were heading out of the building. “Let me see the victim again.”
Lifting the white sheet, he took a glance, then replaced it again.
“It didn’t come from him. The thread on his suit is much lighter.”
“He might’ve ripped it off the killer when he was being pushed over the balustrade,” Ryan said. He brought the evidence to his eyes and frowned. “The engraving says, Fratelli Agosti. That mean anything to you?”
“It’s an Italian men’s clothing line,” I said, remembering passing the store in the city once. “It’s high end. Very expensive.”
I gave Will a side glance. “I doubt Josh owns any clothing from their line. He works three part-time jobs and rides a used bicycle everywhere.”
Will nodded. “That doesn’t mean he’s off the hook, sis. I’ll drop you off at home, then I’m heading over to his place. We’ll have to take him in tonight.”
