Chapter Two

When she went out, she saw McNab had cleared most of his side.

"Some Monday night regulars," McNab told her. "They come in on a slow night for the boobies and brew, maybe try to get lucky. Crack verified. A table of tourists from Topeka, doing some club-hopping. Came in because of the name. They were pretty trashed, and their story checked. Working my way through, hit on a few hard cases, but nobody rings."

"All right. Finish it out."

She signaled Peabody.

As she walked to Eve, Peabody's sympathetic face went to cop face. "They're a mess, Dallas. They're all either friends of one bride or the other, most of them both. None of them, so far, knew anything about a privacy room, and nobody noticed the victim leaving the club area. Some of them, including the other bride, were onstage with the holo-band. A lot of them stripped down to their underwear—or less. According to the statements I've taken, they'd taken over the dance floor. Some not with the group came up, joined in. No problems. One guy even bought a round of drinks, but he left."

"When?"

"Closest we've got is about midnight, maybe a little before that. He got some 'link numbers. Wade—no last name. Tall, blond, tanned, built."

"TOD's twenty-three-forty-six, so that's cutting it close. But I want to know if he contacts any of them. I'll see if Crack knows him. Dead wagon and sweepers on the way. Why aren't any of them leaving?"

"Solidarity. They stay until they all can go. And they wait for Shauna. It's a nice group of women, Dallas."

"Nice people kill, too."

She crossed to the bar where Crack stood waiting.

Fury still vibrated. "Handing out Sober-Up, water, coffee."

"We'll clear them out as soon as we can."

"Shit, it ain't that, skinny white girl. We get trouble in here sometimes. I crack heads, kick some asses. You get people puking, passing out." He shrugged that off. "Had a guy last month—had to be ninety—shaking it like a kid out on the dance floor till he drops with a goddamn heart attack. Got the MTs in quick, but Siri—she's working her way through medical school—already had him back when they got here.

"Nobody ever died in my place. Nobody ever got murdered. I keep an eye, try to keep a good eye, but I didn't see her leave. Didn't notice how long she was gone. Mondays are slow, and we usually close down by one. Hell, I don't usually take the stick on Mondays, but I knew Erin, and I wanted to be here, make sure it went smooth for her. The way the girls were going, I figured we'd give them till two, so I texted Ro, just so she'd know I'd be home later than usual. I figured she'd be sleeping, but she was up. So I was texting with my lady, and I didn't keep a good eye."

"I'm going to tell you something while you make me some of that bullshit you call coffee in here."

"Don't drink that swill, girl. I got Pepsi."

"Better. I'm going to tell you whoever did this wouldn't have looked threatening, wouldn't have stood out to your good eye. My first instinct is Erin knew them."

Crack's gaze skimmed over the partygoers. "Not one of these girls. No fucking way."

"There's always a way, but I don't know yet. Who else knew about the room?"

"Just me, far as I know." He put a tube of Pepsi on the bar. "She was real insistent on that."

"You gave her the swipe."

"Yeah, she came in right around noon, picked it up. Said it was real cloak-and-dagger stuff. She was so fucking happy. The happy just bounced off her."

"Did she come alone?"

"Yeah, just Erin. And in and out, like she had an appointment."

"How about tonight? Did she come in by herself?"

"No, her and Shauna together, and a couple of others right behind them."

"Did she have a case, like a small overnight bag?" Eve held out her hands to indicate size. "A black case."

"I saw that, that case on the bed. No. She wasn't carrying it, or anything but that little purse."

"Did you notice her go out at any point?"

"Outside." He frowned, rubbed at his neck. "Don't think so. She and Shauna got here early, maybe nine-thirty. Most come in closer to ten, or some after."

"You had to take a break or two. You don't work the stick straight through."

"Took fifteen about ten-thirty maybe, gave it over to Renee. Shit, she's good on the bar, but doesn't have a sharp eye, not so much."

"I'd like to talk to her, and to the one who found Erin."

"That's Pete. I got him calmed down some. You want a room?"

"No, here's fine."

"I'll get Renee first, give him a little more calm time. Get you something?" he asked Roarke.

"I'm good. He'll carry this," Roarke added when Crack walked away. "Thinking he should've seen something."

"I can wish he had, but it's not on him."

A woman came out, dark skin, red lips, some fear in her eyes. And built, like all of the staff.

"I'm Renee. Crack said you needed to talk to me."

"You were tending bar when Crack took his break."

"Yeah, yeah." She pushed a hand over a cap of rainbow-colored hair. "He had me relieve him, I don't know, about ten-thirty. Thereabouts."

"Did you notice anyone leaving, or coming in when you were on the stick?"

"Um. Um."

"Those are lovely earrings," Roarke commented.

Some of the fear died away as she lifted a hand to one of the fist-sized silver stars. "Thanks. They're my favorite. Erin— Oh God."

Fear trickled back as she put a hand to those red lips.

"I didn't really know her, except tonight. I started working here a couple months ago, but Crack said we should make sure the brides got whatever they wanted. So she came up to the bar with her empty glass. She said like, hit me again, and how I should tell Shauna, if she asked, she went to the ladies'. And gave me a wink."

"Did she?"

"Yeah, I guess. But just a few minutes."

"When?"

"Um, right after I took the stick. I mixed her drink, had it waiting. She came back—just a few minutes—and—and—she looked so happy."

"Did you notice anyone come in during that time, when she came back?"

"No, but… Crack says to keep an eye, but—the ladies were having so much fun. Some of them onstage, half-naked, singing, dancing. On the floor, dancing with each other. I was watching them because they were having so much fun, and they weren't like our usuals."

"Did you see anyone with a black case, about this big? Black with a handle on the top?"

"No, ma'am, I sure didn't."

Considering the damp fear in those eyes, Eve let the ma'am slide.

"Okay. I appreciate it. I'd like to speak with Pete."

"He's with Crack, I'll tell Crack. Can I go home? It's just, my mom's watching my little boy, and I didn't want to tell her what happened. I get home by one on Mondays."

"Yeah, you can go.

"Door, back door," Eve murmured. "John's down that way. She could've let someone in the back, whoever brought the case. Doesn't want anyone looking for her. Give them the swipe so they can put the case in the room."

"And her killer goes straight there, inside."

"That's one way. Odds are good nobody sees them. After it's done, go out the same way. In and out the back. No cams to worry about."

"Why don't I go check the door?"

"Do that. I'll have the sweepers check for prints. They couldn't be stupid enough to leave any, but we'll check."

As Roarke headed off, Crack came out again, this time with a man in a tight, sleeveless black tee that showed off impressive biceps. Eve gauged him as early twenties, currently pale as a summer cloud. His curling mass of bronze hair framed a chiseled, square-jawed face.

He shook like a leaf in a windstorm.

"Pete, why don't you go around and sit down there by Dallas. Lieutenant Dallas," Crack corrected.

"Okay. Okay, but can you stick with me?"

Eve gave Crack a nod. With his arm around Pete's muscled shoulders, Crack led him around the bar.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" Eve began.

"I found her. I served her drinks earlier. They had a table, and she and the other—the one getting married—they danced on the table. Then I found her."

"How long after you served the drinks before you found her?"

"Oh. I don't know exactly. An hour? Maybe more."

"It was just some after midnight when you took your break," Crack prompted.

"Right, right. Okay." Pressing his fingers to his eyes, Pete rubbed. "Crack said I could use one of the privacy rooms to crash for thirty. I'm taking some summer classes, going for my MBA. It's finals week, and I've been cramming it. I guess it showed. Sorry."

"Don't hand me that bullshit. He needed a break," Crack said to Eve. "I told him to take thirty, gave him a swipe. We only had the one room booked anyway."

"Got it. So shortly after midnight, you went back to crash for thirty."

"Yeah. Set the alarm on my 'link. I can show you."

"No need. And when you went into the privacy area?"

"Okay, I was walking by, and I saw the room—not mine, the one a couple up from it—wasn't locked. See, Crack wants the privacy rooms locked, occupied or not, right? We don't want anybody sliding in one of them without paying. Or if someone's using one, the door has to be secured or it's a violation."

"But this door wasn't secured."

"No. The green light was on—that's open. So I pushed the door open and—"

"You pushed the door open? It wasn't closed all the way."

"I…" Frowning, he rubbed his eyes again. "Um, wait. I was heading down, I saw the green light, and I… Yeah, yeah, I just pushed on the door. It wasn't all the way closed. I didn't say that before. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't think of it. I—"

"Pete." Eve put a hand on the solid wall of his arm. "Take a breath. You're doing fine. You pushed open the door."

"I didn't tell the other cop that. I didn't think about it, but yeah. I just gave it a little nudge. And she was… God, God, there was so much blood. I've never seen that much blood, not for real."

His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"And she was just lying there in all the blood. I couldn't stop staring, then things went sort of gray. I pulled the door closed. I didn't want anyone to see that. I'm always going to see that, all the blood, and her lying in it. I pulled the door closed, and I went and got Crack.

"I fucked up. I didn't handle it like I should. I left her lying in all the blood."

"You handled it exactly right," Eve corrected.

He gave her a pitifully hopeful look. "I did?"

"If you'd gone in, you'd have compromised the scene, made it harder for us to find who did that to her. You closed the door, and if you hadn't, maybe someone else would've gone in. You got help. You did exactly the right thing."

He covered his face with his hands. "I kind of knew her. She used to come in a couple times a month. Not lately, not for a while, I guess. But she used to, so I kind of knew her."

"How long have you worked here, Pete?"

"A few years. Almost three."

"So you've got a sense. Did you notice anybody paying too much attention to her?"

"Not the wrong kind. She—all of them—were really bashing it, so other customers watched some. And some of them got up and joined in. It's like contagious, you know? The energy. It seemed like the ladies in the group weren't interested in hooking up tonight, right?"

"Someone mentioned a man named Wade got some of their contacts."

"Yeah, well, Wade would."

He said it with his first shaky smile.

"He's a player," Crack told her. "Comes in most every week, targets some of the ladies. Goes smooth, not pushy."

"Got a last name? We need to check all the boxes."

"I can get it. He always runs a tab."

"Okay. Pete, when you went back for your break, when you pushed open the door, did you see anyone, or anything that seemed off besides the unsecured door?"

"I didn't see anything but her. Swear to God. All I could see was her."

"All right. If you think of anything else, you can contact me. You've been very helpful."

"You go on home now, Pete." Crack patted his back. "You take yourself another soother or whatever you need, and get some sleep."

"I'm afraid I'll see her in my sleep."

"You saw her dancing on the table," Eve reminded him. "Put that in front. See her like that."

"I'll try."

Crack waited until Pete walked out. "Gonna mess him up for a while, but he'll get through it. I'll get you Wade's name and all, but I'm saying he's a player, smooth with it, and sex is his game. Don't see him killing anybody."

"Have to check those boxes."

"Got that. You want Shauna now?"

"I'll go to her, but I want Peabody with me. One thing. You've got a back exit. People can get in that way. No security there?"

Crack shrugged. "We got no cover. Make the scratch on the drinks, privacy tables, and rooms. I don't care how people come in, as long as they cough up the scratch. When we've got live music and a slamming crowd, Big Tiny and I rotate off the door to bounce any assholes out. I don't bring him in on slow nights."

"One more. No monitor for unsecured privacy doors?"

Now he sighed. "I got the e's for that right under the bar, and another in my office. I missed it. Texting with Ro, maybe. If I'd caught it, I'd've gone back and spared that boy the trauma.

"You think he came in the back?"

"It's my most probable at this time."

"Fuck it. I guess I gotta break down and put a cam on the back door." He glanced over. "I guess he's the one to ask about it."

She turned, watched Roarke walk back to the bar.

"No tampering," he said, then looked at Crack. "My friend, I know you keep the doors unsecured during club hours, but Christ Jesus, you need better security than what you have when you're closed. A toddler could get through your locks."

"Nobody does 'cause they know who owns the place." His lips spread in a wide, fierce grin. "But we're going to do just that. How about you work something up for me?"

"I'll do that."

"No cams on the front. The bulk of our clientele's going to find someplace else to patronize we get cams on the front door."

"Why don't I work something up that won't show, even to that clientele."

"You got something like that?"

"He's got every-damn-thing," Eve said.

"You work it up. Want me to take you back to Shauna?"

"Give me a few."

When Eve rose, walked over to Peabody, Roarke sat.

"Any whiskey in stock that won't burn through my esophagus?"

Crack smiled again. "I got my private stash of the good stuff."

"I'll take three fingers of that, if you'll join me."

When McNab joined them, Crack lifted the bottle. "Whiskey? It's the good stuff."

McNab sent a longing look at the label. "It sure as hell is. The Scot in me says, ‘Set me up, mate.' But I'm a cop on duty. I don't guess you've got any fizzies."

With an owlish stare, Crack took a sip of the good stuff. "Bony white boy, does this place look like a fizzy bar?"

"Ginger ale maybe?"

"I can get you that."

Crack started to pour one, then paused when the morgue team came in. "Hell. Fucking hell. Is she going to Morris, do you know?"

"Dallas would've asked for him." McNab took the glass.

"It's not right. None of this is right." Crack came around to sit. "She'll catch who did this."

Roarke nodded as Eve led the morgue team to the body. "She won't stop until she does. Get you a drink, Peabody?" he asked when she came over.

"Cold caffeine—not your coffee. I want to be able to keep my stomach lining intact. Dallas is having them take the victim out the back so her friends don't have to see. They won't budge until Shauna's released. McNab, Dallas wants you to direct the sweepers when they get here."

"On that. Totally on it, since here they come."

"Sit," Roarke said to Peabody as she downed that cold caffeine.

"Better not. Got another round to go."

She downed more when Eve came back into the club. Eve paused a moment, had a word with the head sweeper before signaling Peabody.

Crack pushed off the stool. "I'll take you back. Ginger ale," he added when she took a hard look at McNab's empty glass.

"Go home," she told Roarke.

He lifted his glass. "I'm enjoying some of the good stuff."

"Whatever. With me, Peabody."

The door behind the bar led to a half-assed kitchen where they generated half-assed bar snacks. Though it shined clean, she figured if she'd been trapped in a cave for a week with no food or water, she might have, just maybe might have, risked eating something not hermetically sealed from that space.

A short, skinny corridor led to another door where Crack stopped.

"I gave her a soother earlier. Can't say if it helped much."

When he opened the door, the three women huddled together on chairs he'd obviously brought in from the club froze.

Like hers, his office ran small, but he'd managed to wedge in two more chairs.

And like hers, his office space said business, not socializing. A desk, his data and communication center, a big desk chair for a big man, a mini-AC, and a speed bag.

She immediately wondered if she could put a speed bag in her office.

"This is Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody." Crack eased over to take the middle woman's hands. "They're the best there is. I promise you that, Shauna. The best."

"Will they let me see her?" Her voice, like her eyes, was dull. "No one will let me see her."

"Ms. Hunnicut," Eve began, "the chief medical examiner is taking care of Erin now. There's no one who'll take better care of her. We'll arrange for you to see her tomorrow."

"I need to see her. I need to touch her. I don't understand."

"Shauna, you listen to Dallas and Peabody now. I'm going to be right outside, but you listen to them."

"Can we stay, please?" The woman on the right, a pretty strawberry blonde with red-rimmed, swollen green eyes, sent a pleading look toward Eve. "I'm Becca—Rebecca DiNuzio—and that's Angie Decker. We're friends, we're all friends. Can we stay with Shauna?"

"Yes." Eve nodded at Crack.

He gave Shauna's hands another squeeze. "I'm right outside."

A tear trickled down Shauna's cheek as Crack stepped out. "We're getting married in just a few days. On Saturday we're getting married. This can't be real."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Eve said as she and Peabody sat. "I know this is a difficult time, but if we could ask you—the three of you—some questions, it'll help us find who did this to Erin."

"Someone killed her. They said she's dead, but I don't understand. Why would someone kill Erin?"

"That's what we need to find out. Can you tell me where you were, what you were doing about midnight?"

"Nobody was paying attention to the time."

"I kind of was." Angie, a stunning Black woman with razor-edged cheekbones and large, liquid brown eyes, slid a hand over Shauna's. "I have a job tomorrow. I'm a model and I have to report for hair and makeup at eight. I swore I wouldn't stay past one, so I was watching the time. And mostly drinking water.

"Shauna and Becca were both onstage. Chloe, too, and Margo about that time."

"I was singing and dancing onstage when she needed me."

"You didn't know. None of us knew. How could we, sweetheart? Lieutenant, Erin was my best friend in the world. I was standing up for her like Becca for Shauna."

Angie turned to Shauna. "You'd just come down, and you started looking for her. You asked me if I'd seen her, but I hadn't, not since we came back from the bathroom about an hour before."

"Sorry," Eve interrupted. "You and Erin went to the john about eleven?"

"More like ten-thirty. I saw her heading that way, so headed out and joined her. We made a deal about going to the ladies' in pairs or groups. She thought I was being silly when I caught up with her, but that was the deal."

"What then?"

"Then?" Angie frowned. "Well, we used the bathroom, then she said she had a drink waiting at the bar, and she went to the bar. I took one of the tables."

She turned to Shauna again. "You asked if I'd seen her as soon as you came down from the stage. And right about then is when Crack came and told you. You were standing with me when he shut everything down and told us."

"None of you noticed her leaving the club area again?"

"We were all having fun, just crazy fun," Becca said. "I didn't even notice the time with Angie. God, I took off my dress! Then the music stopped, and I saw Crack and Angie holding on to Shauna."

"Was the rest of your group in the club area?"

"I don't know." Becca looked over at Angie. "I think so."

"Some of the rest of you must've used the restroom at some point."

"Oh, sure." Becca nodded at Peabody. "But, like Angie said, we had the buddy system rule. Nobody goes alone, two or more at once. We weren't the only ones in the club, and, well, it's the Down and Dirty, so buddy system."

"Why did she go without me?" More tears spilled as Shauna gripped Becca's hand. "Why did she go back there by herself?"

Angie sighed. "When I trailed her back to the ladies', she reminded me she used to be a kind of regular here."

"She'd booked a privacy room."

"What? But why?" Shauna stared at Eve. "Why would she do that?"

"Ms. Hunnicut, did Erin have a black overnight case?" Eve opened her hands to estimate size. "With a top handle?"

"Yeah, she did. Why?"

"Pink shoes? Heels, glittery, with butterflies on the straps?"

That question brought on a flood of tears. "It's how we met, how we met." When she broke down, Angie hugged her in, and Becca took over.

"Shauna manages Fancy Feet, a shoe boutique. Erin saw the shoes in the window. She had her first real art show coming up that weekend and went in to try them on."

"We connected." Shauna sobbed it. "We just connected. She said I should come to the show, and I did. She wore the shoes. We went out for a drink after, and just connected. I'd only been with men before, I'd never felt attracted to women. But we fell in love."

"You love who you love." Peabody spoke softly. "You love the person. The shoes were the start of it, for both of you. So they're important."

"But how did you know about the shoes?"

"She had the case in the privacy room, and the shoes in it."

"I don't understand, I don't understand."

"She also had a kind of costume, short grass skirt, leis, a card for you."

"I want the card. I need the card."

"We'll get it to you. She scanned two tickets to Hawaii. Maui."

"But—no." With the back of her hand, she swiped at tears. "That can't be right. That was just a silly wish of mine, and we talked about going someday. We'd save up for it. We wanted to get married now, so we'd save up for a honeymoon in Maui because we didn't want to wait to get married."

"I checked. She bought the tickets, booked a hotel, three weeks ago. Do you know where she might have gotten the money?"

"I…" Struggling, Shauna rubbed her hands over her face, but tears rolled through them. "Her parents, maybe. They're great, but I don't see how they could afford all that."

"She sold a painting? I bet she did," Becca put in. "You said she was spending a lot of time in the studio. She does mostly street art," Becca added. "But she shares a small studio with three other artists, and works through the— God, I can't think!"

"SoHo Arts." Shauna closed her eyes. "They held her first real show. Glenda, Glenda Frost runs it. She couldn't come tonight because she's in Italy."

"We'll check on that."

"She was going to surprise me with something I wanted. Now she's dead."

"She didn't bring the case with her tonight?"

"No, no, we came together. She didn't have it. Maybe she came by earlier and left it with Crack."

"No, she didn't. Who would she have trusted with it? Who would she have trusted with the case, with the surprise?"

"Any of us," Angie said. "Well, maybe not all of us, as some of us can't keep it zipped. She'd have trusted me, or Becca. I don't know why she didn't. She never said a thing to me."

"Or to me. You think…" Becca pressed her lips together. "You think whoever she did tell killed her. That doesn't make any sense."

"No one who knew her would do this. No one," Shauna insisted. "Everyone was happy for us. My parents were surprised, but once they met her, they loved her, too. Our families, our friends, they were all happy for us."

She dissolved into tears again. "I have to tell my family. I have to tell her family. I don't know how."

Peabody reached out. "We'll do that, Shauna."

"That wouldn't be right. You didn't know her. I have to tell them. I need to do that for her. It's all I can do for her now."

"We'll go with you, both of us." Angie looked at Becca.

"Absolutely."

"Ms. Hunnicut, you said you dated men prior to meeting Erin."

"So?" She shot a hot look at Eve out of drenched eyes.

"Did you have any bad breakups? Anyone you dated resent you stepping away? Or that you fell in love with a woman?"

"No." She leaned against Becca, closed her eyes again. "The last person I hung with before I met Erin, we weren't serious that way. It was just convenient sex and someone to hang out with—go to dinner or the vids or whatever with."

"Could we have his name? It's routine," Eve stressed.

"Oh God, he's just a nice man, good in bed, and we made each other laugh. We're friends, just with, you know, benefits. He's coming—was coming—to the wedding. Marcus Stillwater. He's a publicist for Fordam Publishing."

"Who broke up with whom?"

"I guess I pulled the plug on the sex. Just a month or so after I met Erin, and realized I had feelings. I told him I met someone I thought I could get serious about. We didn't fight, he wasn't upset. We were friends before we started sleeping together. We were friends when we slept together. We're still friends."

"He met Erin then?"

"Sure. They liked each other."

"What about before him?"

She heaved out a breath. "Look, I wasn't promiscuous, but I dated a lot of men. I didn't have sex with all of them. But I'm twenty-six, I was a single woman in New York."

"No one's judging you. It's routine," Peabody told her. "Every detail can matter."

"All right. Okay." Shauna shoved at her hair again. "The guy I dated before Marcus, we were together a couple months. But it just didn't really work for me. It didn't click, so I broke it off. He wasn't happy about it, but I didn't break his heart, either."

"Name?"

"Jon Rierdon. He runs a home goods store on… I don't remember."

"That's good enough."

"Hell, how far back should I go? If I track back to high school, there's Greg."

Becca let out a quick laugh, then immediately winced. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. Greg, Shauna, and I all went to high school together. They were an item. Actually, The Item. The homecoming queen and the quarterback. Greg and I have been cohabs for over two years."

"We all scattered after college. Greg and I kept in touch off and on. Then Becca and I ran into each other on the street, just hey."

"It turned out we lived in the same neighborhood—Shauna had just moved to the city, and we ran into each other."

"There were two guys in college on the serious side," Shauna continued, "and a couple—no, three—between that and Jon. Nobody got their hearts broken."

"What about Erin? Exes."

"I know a couple, but we didn't go into all that much. We were together, and that's what mattered."

"Would you know?" Eve asked Angie.

"Yeah, probably. I could give you ones I do know, but another thing I know. Erin didn't love anyone she was with before. Liked, was attracted to, enjoyed. But she didn't love until Shauna."

"Names would help, just to eliminate. Then we'll let you go. If you think of anything else, or have any questions, you can contact me or Detective Peabody. It would also help if you give us access to where you lived with Erin."

"You can have it. I don't want to go back there, not yet." Her lips trembled. "Maybe not ever."

"You'll stay with me. I've got room." Angie took her hand again. "As long as you need."