Colt didn’t look at him when he answered. He was on the move.
“Because she’s dead.”
* * * * *
Colt stood in Amy Harris’s bedroom watching the boys cut her dead body down from the ceiling fan.
Hanged. Apparent suicide. No bruising. No marks. Hair tidy. Clothing tidy. House tidy, like she was preparing for company.
She had no shoes on. Chair on its side under her. No sign of struggle. No forced entry.
The coroner, Andy, told Colt his best guess, she died the day before, Monday.
Colt walked out of the room into Amy’s living room and pulled the phone out of his back pocket. The display said it was ten passed six. No Costa’s tonight.
He opened it, scrolled down to Feb and hit go.
“Hello?”
“Baby, hate to tell you this but we can’t do Costa’s. I got work.”
She was quiet a minute then she asked, “What kind of work?”
“Suicide.”
He heard her gasp before she said, “Who?”
Colt had no intention of telling her that when they were on the phone. He hadn’t had a lot of success controlling her temper or her emotions when he was in the same room with her. He was not going to make that attempt over the f**king phone.
“We’ll talk about it when I get home from work.”
“When’s that gonna be?”
He heard the zip go on the body bag.
“Late.”
“I’ll give Mom and Dad a break and close tonight.”
“They’ve only covered for you and Morrie one night.”
“They’re not as young as they used to be.”
“I heard that!” Colt heard Jackie shout in the background.
He would have smiled normally, but he didn’t feel like smiling just about now.
“Feb –”
“Colt, it’s just…” she hesitated, uncomfortable, edgy, not sure if she should share, “I need to store up my markers for when we actually make it to Costa’s.”
There it was. Indication of a future.
That made him feel like smiling. He didn’t smile but he did let it go.
“Is Morrie on with you tonight?”
“No, he’s home havin’ dinner with Dee and the kids.”
“He comin’ back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call him, tell him he’s comin’ back.”
“It’s okay, Darryl’s on.”
“Honey, Darryl forgets what he’s doin’ in the middle of sharpening a pencil.” He heard her soft laughter and went on. “Do me a favor, call Morrie. Minute Jack and Jackie prepare to leave, his ass is there.”
“Okay.”
“Can you call Stavros? Tell him we’re not gonna make it.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry about Costa’s.”
“Beauty of Costa’s,” she told him, “it’s always a promise, even the minute you leave.”
Christ, he liked this new Feb.
“Later, baby.”
Her voice was a whisper when she said, “Later, Alec.”
That was another promise, one he liked better than the juiciest souvlaki and the sweetest baklava this side of the Mississippi.
He flipped his phone shut, tucked it in his back pocket, turned and called to Marty who was standing inside the front door. Marty jogged up to him.
“Do me a favor, go to your cruiser and call in a team. I want this place printed and combed.”
Marty stared at him and asked, “For a suicide?”
Colt sighed instead of curling his hands into fists. “Just do it, Marty.”
“Gotcha.”
Colt walked out the door and to Julie McCall. He’d spoken to her briefly before entering and again coming out and asking her to stay. She was shaken up and crying when he arrived. She was still shaken up but she’d reapplied her makeup since he’d last seen her.
“Ms. McCall, thanks for staying. I won’t take a lot more of your time.”
“I can’t believe it, I just can’t.”
He nodded and asked, “This seem like something Amy would do?”
She shook her head. “No. No way. She was shy but she seemed… I don’t know…” she searched for a word, “content, I guess.”
She wasn’t content the night she walked into J&J’s. She also hadn’t left a suicide note.
“You didn’t happen to see a note when you walked in?”
She shook her head again. “No, I just, you know, you talked to me about her and her bein’ no call-no show and all, I got worried. Then heard word about Marie Lowe and you talked about Mr. Lowe and well…” she trailed off then continued, “when she goes to visit her folks, I come and get her mail, turn lights on and off, that whole thing, so people won’t know she’s gone.”
Colt nodded and she kept talking.
“I had her key. Keep it on my ring. It’s hard to get them off so I didn’t bother. She goes to see her folks regular, even during holidays, like the Fourth of July if they make a long weekend. I came straight after work, knocked on the door but she didn’t answer. I thought, ‘What the hey?’ Right? I have a key, she won’t mind.”
Julie was right about one thing, Amy wouldn’t mind.
“Place felt weird, silent, her car outside, she had to be there. So I had a look. That’s when I found her and called you.”
Death had a feel he knew, the place would definitely feel weird.
“I don’t believe it,” Julie said again, eyeing him and looking like she was trying hard to call up tears.
“Go home, Ms. McCall,” he told her, “call a friend, don’t be alone tonight.”
“Maybe I could… we could…” she paused, “maybe later you’d want to meet for a drink? You know, toast to Amy?”
Was the woman seriously asking him out on a date after finding her friend had committed suicide?
It didn’t matter. He’d toasted to enough dead people recently, it wasn’t much fun then and it was with Feb. He sure as f**k wasn’t going to do it with Julie McCall.
“I got work, Ms. McCall.”
“Yeah, but… later?” she pushed.
“Ms. McCall –”
“It’s just that,” she was searching and what she found was so lame it made him want to roll his eyes just like Feb, “I’m sad.”
It was time to shut this down once and for all and even though it wasn’t exactly true, it also wasn’t false either so he said, “I appreciate this was difficult and I also appreciate the offer but, later, I’ll be with my girlfriend.”