eleven

I maneuvered through rush hour traffic to Teen Path HOME knowing three things for certain. One: Rainbow wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t risk going anywhere near Teen Path HOME while her stepfather was looking for her. Two: Once I told Gabriel that I’d ignored his edict and taken Rainbow home with me, I likely wouldn’t be invited back either. Three: Neither of the above mattered.

I was desperate to find Rainbow, and Teen Path HOME seemed like the most logical place to start. The staff must know where to look for runaway teens. If not, the youth at the center definitely did. I sprang for an expensive parking spot two blocks away and rushed to the center. Half a block into my journey, I turned right and froze. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Police cruisers pulsed red and white warnings into the mist and blocked Teen Path HOME’s street from both ends. Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the center’s entrance. A crowd of people loitered around it. Near the loading zone, a group of about fifteen teens huddled around something on the ground that I couldn’t see. Chuck stood outside the crime scene tape, arguing with a police officer. Vonnie, the art teacher, stood nearby, sobbing. A frustrated-looking officer appeared to be questioning her. I didn’t see Gabriel, but that wasn’t surprising. As the facility’s director, he was likely inside with the police.

The group of teens parted, exposing a yellow lab wearing a green vest. It was Hope. Nicole kneeled on the ground next to her. She saw me, waved, and handed Hope’s leash to one of the teens. As she maneuvered toward me, Nicole wore a somber expression.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. “I thought you and Hope came on Wednesdays.”

“We don’t keep a set schedule. I try to mix it up so Hope can interact with more people.” She pointed to the gathered crowd. “As you can see, mornings are busy.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, at least not for sure. The police had already blocked off the entrance when I got here. They’re not letting anybody inside, and they aren’t saying why.”

“You say you don’t know for sure. Does that mean you have an idea?”

She frowned. “People are talking, but you know how rumors are. It’s like that telephone game. They’re usually wildly inaccurate.”

“Tell me anyway. What are people saying?”

She glanced at the entrance, then at her shoes. “That someone found a body when they opened up this morning.”

Concern about Rainbow sparked to alarm. “A body? Whose?”

“I have no idea. Like I said, the police aren’t talking. I almost left, but I figured if the rumors are right and someone was murdered, people will need a therapy dog today more than ever.” As if proving her point, a ponytailed girl, no older than fourteen, kneeled, wrapped her arms around Hope, and murmured into her fur.

“Murdered?” I asked.

Nicole frowned. “I assume so. The police wouldn’t barricade the block for a heart attack, would they?” Her expression turned pensive. “I guess it could be a suicide.”

The word “suicide” yanked my mind back to Rainbow. She’d told me she’d rather kill herself than go back to her stepfather. That was just teenage melodrama, right?

I frowned at the cordoned-off entrance. Whatever had happened here—suicide, murder, accident, or spontaneous combustion—I damned sure was going to find out. I pointed at Chuck, who was still browbeating a patrol officer. “Let me see if they’ll tell me anything.”

I pushed my way through the crowd and sidled up to the crime scene tape. The officer left Chuck mid-complaint and blocked me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to stand back.”

“I work here.”

“As I told this gentleman, no one can enter the building until—”

A familiar voice cut off the rest of his sentence. “Kate? Is that you?”

A petite and pretty woman with long, dark hair strode up to me. Detective Martinez. I’d met Martinez the night of my friend George’s murder. She’d also investigated the stabbing death of Nicole’s step­father. Nicole’s instincts had been right. If Martinez was on site, the police suspected murder.

“I should probably say I’m surprised to see you,” Martinez said, “but I’m not. I’m beginning to think you’re a murder scene groupie. I catch myself looking for you sometimes.”

“So it is a murder,” I replied.

She nodded.

Martinez and I were closer to acquaintances than friends, but I’d helped her solve the two previous cases, and I’d grown to respect her. I hoped the reverse was true.

“What are you doing downtown?” Martinez asked. “Did you open another business?”

“No, one yoga studio’s plenty for me.” I pointed at Teen Path HOME’s brightly colored exterior. “But I teach here sometimes, too.” I didn’t volunteer that so far I’d taught a grand total of two classes. “I know the scene’s off-limits to the public, but if you let me inside, I might notice something relevant.”

Martinez hesitated, but only for a second. She nodded to the patrol officer. “Let her through. She’s with me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Chuck growled. “She’s just a freakin’ yoga teacher. If she’s going in, I’m going in too.”

The patrol officer gestured me through. His stern voice echoed behind me. “Sir, I warned you to stand back.”

I had thousands of questions for Martinez as I entered the recreation area, but one was by far the most important. “Who was killed?”

“I’ll tell you in a few minutes,” Martinez replied. “I’d rather you not know until I get your unfiltered impressions.” She handed me booties and gloves. “Put these on. Don’t touch anything, and don’t go anywhere without me. You’re not a cop, but you’ve got good intuition. Tell me anything you notice, even if you think it’s irrelevant.”

My first thought? Everything seemed perfectly normal. That was the peculiar thing about violence. The world around it somehow kept spinning. If there’d been a life-or-death struggle in this room, I couldn’t see it. No chairs overturned; no tables upended. A triangle of racked billiard balls lay carefully positioned on the pool table.

My second thought was significantly more sobering. Where was Gabriel? From what I could tell so far, the police weren’t interviewing anyone inside. My stomach felt hollow. “Have you spoken to the other staff members?” I asked.

“A couple of them,” Martinez replied. “Right now we’re focused on processing the scene.”

She led me to the conference room next. The tables were all neatly in rows; the chairs, stacked in their holding racks. The blinds were partially open, allowing in tiny slivers of light.

“Nothing out of the ordinary so far,” I said.

Martinez nodded. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

I filled the silence as we walked back across the recreation area. “I don’t go looking for murder, you know. Somehow it manages to find me.”

“Uh huh.” Martinez pressed open the door to the kitchen.

“Seriously. My mother says it’s my dhar—”

That’s when the chaos erupted.

A flash of brown fur zoomed over Martinez’s boot and into the kitchen. She jumped and yelped, “What the hell?”

Male voices rang from inside.

“There’s a rat in here!”

“Christ, it touched me!”

“Watch out, it might have rabies!”

“Don’t hurt them!” I cried. “They’re pets!”

Martinez slammed the kitchen door shut, trapping Lonnie on the other side. Her face contorted in horror. “Them? You mean there’s more than one?”

“There are two. Ed and Lonnie. They belong to the site manager.”

She cracked open the door and yelled through it, “It’s the victim’s. Catch it and keep your eye out for a second one.”

My throat tightened. “Gabriel’s dead?”

Martinez groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Dammit! I didn’t mean to say that.”

A new voice joined the chorus, this time coming from Gabriel’s office. “Get that animal away from my body!”

“That must be Ed!” I bolted toward the sound.

“Kate, stop! Don’t go in there!”

Martinez’s warning came two seconds too late.

I froze in the doorway to Gabriel’s office, sickened. Gabriel’s body sprawled face-up on the floor, lips frozen in a permanent grimace. Crimson liquid covered his chest and soaked the carpet beneath him. The smell of blood made me woozy, but my psyche could have handled that. Gabriel’s eyes, on the other hand, would haunt my nightmares forever. Wide open. Unblinking. Dead.

A man I assumed was the medical examiner crouched over the body. A second man—who I recognized as Martinez’s partner, Henderson—crawled under the desk, trying to capture a nine-inch gray rodent.

I swallowed—hard—and said the first two words that came to my mind. “Ed, come!” As trained, the oversized rat scurried out from underneath the desk and stood on his hind legs near my ankles. I reached down, picked him up, and allowed him to crawl to my shoulder. When he burrowed his head in my curls, I would have sworn he was crying.

The medical examiner glared at me sternly. “Get that rodent out of here.”

Henderson backed out from under the desk. “What in the holy hell are you doing here?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he held up his palm. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Get out, and don’t come back in here again.”

No problem there. If I could hit rewind, I wouldn’t have gone in the first time. I retreated from the office to the hallway and sagged against the wall. Saliva flooded my mouth. Please God, please don’t let me vomit. Not like the night I found George’s body. I need to stay upright. I need to talk to Martinez.

I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. Then a second. Then a third.

Martinez’s voice came from a great distance. “Geez, Kate. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come inside the building. You didn’t need to see that.” A pause. “Kate, are you okay?” Another. “Kate?”

I held my hands up, eyes still firmly squeezed shut. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Two more deliberate breaths later, I slowly opened them.

I immediately wished they were still closed.

A drawing of a teenage skeleton stared back at me. An empty white rectangle occupied space next to it. The card underneath the blank space read, Another Life.

Rainbow’s drawing was missing.

Should I tell Martinez? The missing drawing might not be relevant. Gabriel had mentioned that he wanted to use Another Life in Teen Path HOME’s promotional materials. Maybe he had taken it down to make copies.

Or maybe Rainbow …

A disgusted-looking officer interrupted my thoughts. He carried an unhappy brown rodent in a large Tupperware container. Lonnie scratched desperately against the side, trying to escape.

The man I would forever think of as Officer Tupperware spoke. “What do you want me to do with this … ” He shuddered. “This vermin now, Detective?”

I pointed to the container. “His name is Lonnie, and you need to let him out of that. Now.”

Ed crawled halfway down my arm and sniffed at his brother’s plastic prison.

Martinez flashed me a you’re-obviously-nuts look and gestured with her chin to Officer Tupperware. “What do you expect him to do? Carry that rat around on his shoulder like you’re doing?”

The officer’s face turned green. “Uh uh. No way. I’d rather be shot.”

“I’m serious,” I said. “You can’t keep an animal in a sealed plastic container. He’ll suffocate.”

Martinez took the container from the officer and handed it to me. “Fine. You take it then.”

I opened the lid. Lonnie raced up my shirt and hid in the back of my hair. I could have imagined it, but I thought Ed gave Officer Tupperware a dirty look before scrambling up my arm to join him. I handed the container back to Martinez, who snapped the lid back on and handed it to the officer.

She frowned. “You say the rodents belonged to the victim?”

“To Gabriel, yes.”

She nodded to the officer. “Better call Animal Control.”

I ignored the electric objections pulsing down my spine. Ed and Lonnie already lived in a cage. How much worse could one in an animal shelter be?

“Do they have facilities for rats?” I asked.

“Not my problem,” Martinez replied.

It wasn’t mine either. So why did I feel so guilty? Ed gently tugged my earlobe, as if whispering, Take us home, Kate. I ignored him. Lonnie upped the ante by chewing on my hair. I considered handing them back to Officer Tupperware, but I couldn’t. Gabriel had cared for these creatures. Frankly, I was growing a little fond of them myself.

“Fine,” I mumbled. “You win. But you’re going to the pet store.”

Martinez looked at me quizzically. “Who are you talking to?”

“Sorry, I was thinking out loud. They can stay at my husband’s pet supply store until you find out if Gabriel’s family wants them.”

The right side of Martinez’s mouth twitched upward. “Isn’t this how you ended up with that dog?”

I ignored her. She was right. But unlike Bella, Ed and Lonnie might be adoptable. “I need their cage,” I said. I pointed at Gabriel’s office. “It’s in there, on the table next to the desk.”

As if reading my thoughts, Detective Henderson emerged from the room. His beard sported significantly more gray than the last time I’d seen him, but his ample beer belly had shrunk several inches. Henderson had always played the “bad cop” role in the Martinez-Henderson duo, at least when they were interrogating me. If his facial expression was any indication, not much had changed. He gave a dark look to Martinez, then spoke drolly to me. “Kate Davidson. Why am I not surprised?”

Martinez pointed to Gabriel’s office. “Learn anything interesting in there?”

“Not much. The ME said the body’s not in full rigor yet, so he estimates the victim died between six and eight hours ago.”

I did the math in my head. “That means Gabriel was killed between one and three this morning. What was he doing here at that time of night? The center would have been closed for hours.”

Henderson shrugged. “He might have been working late.”

“Or meeting someone,” Martinez added. “He obviously wasn’t alone.”

Lonnie crawled down my arm, readying for a high dive attempt to the floor. Ed wasn’t far behind him. I needed to get these two locked up before they took off for the kitchen again. “I know I can’t go inside Gabriel’s office, but I need to contain these guys. Can you please get me their cage?”

“Sorry, Kate,” Martinez replied. “I don’t care if you take the animals until we figure out where they belong, but nothing else leaves that office until we finish processing the crime scene.”

“How am I supposed to get them home? They can’t run loose in my car.”

She pointed at Officer Tupperware’s container. “We can poke a couple of holes in the lid.”

I would have sworn that I heard both rodents gasp. “Absolutely not,” I said. “It’s way too small. Did you see how panicked Lonnie was inside there?”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Henderson grumbled. “Where’s a good cat when you need one?” He spoke to the officer. “Go find a cardboard box somewhere and punch holes in it.”

The six of us went in separate directions. Officer Tupperware left in search of a box. Henderson ambled back into Gabriel’s office. Martinez and I moved to a couch in the recreation area. Lonnie and Ed hunkered down on my shoulders, as if using my hair for camouflage.

Before that morning, if anyone had asked me to wear a stole made of live rats, I would have assured them I’d rather do Hot Yoga in Hades. The mere thought would have made me want to run, gagging, for the nearest restroom. Now I felt exactly the opposite. The tiny creatures’ warmth settled my stomach. Comforted me. Made the scene in Gabriel’s office less horrible somehow.

Such is the power of animals.

Even animals people think of as vermin.

“Notice anything significant so far?” Martinez asked.

“You mean besides the hole in Gabriel’s chest?”

Admittedly, now wasn’t the best moment for sarcasm, but I was stalling. Trying to figure out what I should tell Martinez about Rainbow’s missing drawing. I didn’t know when it had been removed, but its absence was certainly suspicious. If, as I assumed, the drawing had been stolen, Rainbow was the most likely thief, which made her the most likely suspect in Gabriel’s murder. Means and opportunity were no-brainers. She’d had plenty of time to get to Teen Path HOME before Gabriel was killed, and she’d carried a handgun and ammunition. What I couldn’t figure out was motive. Why would Rainbow have come back to Teen Path HOME? And if she did, why would she have killed Gabriel?

Martinez gently nudged my arm. “There’s something you don’t want to tell me, isn’t there?”

Guilt gnawed at my stomach, but I told her anyway. “There’s a drawing missing from a display in the hallway.”

Martinez pulled out a notebook. “We noticed it too. The witness who found the body teaches art here. She’s pretty upset, so it’s hard to get much out of her, but she says nothing was missing from the display when they closed up last night. Evidently the missing piece was done by a kid named … ” She consulted her notes. “A kid named Rainbow. Does that ring any bells?”

“I’ve met her a couple of times.” Which was true, if incomplete.

Martinez continued. “She also said there was some hullabaloo here yesterday with the kid’s father. Evidently he claimed that she’d stolen a gun?”

“I was here when that happened. But it was her stepfather, not her father, and no one actually saw a gun.” At least no one but me, and then not until eight hours later. I avoided eye contact by plucking Lonnie off my shoulder and stroking his back.

Martinez narrowed her eyes. “You’re hiding something.” She stared me down silently for ten interminable seconds, making my discomfort grow with each tick of the clock. On tick number eleven, Officer Tupperware returned, carrying a large cardboard box and two clear plastic evidence bags.

“The evidence techs said we could use this box for the rats. I’ve also got a couple of other items I think you should look at.”

The first bag contained a metal cash box. A large dent near the lock hinted that the lid had been forced open. The second held a handgun that looked an awful lot like the one I’d temporarily taken from Rainbow.

“Where were these?” Martinez asked.

“Behind a dumpster in the alley,” Officer Tupperware replied.

“Together?”

“The gun was inside the box.”

“Good work,” Martinez said. “Have the lab dust them for prints.”

I envisioned my bare hands taking the gun from Rainbow and placing it inside my purse. Color drained from my face.

“Kate?” Martinez asked. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I need to tell you something.” I swallowed, but the knot in my throat tightened anyway. “You might find my prints on that gun.”

Martinez suddenly got a lot less friendly. She tossed Ed and Lonnie into their new cardboard prison and sequestered me in the conference room for forty-five minutes. After an evidence tech took my fingerprints, I told her everything. That Rainbow was one of my yoga students, that she’d shown up at the studio asking for my help, that she had, indeed, stolen her stepfather’s handgun, and that I’d taken it from her before driving her to my house.

“She swiped it from my purse again before she bolted. But honestly, I don’t think she has anything to do with Gabriel’s murder. I don’t even know for sure that it’s her gun.”

“We’ll figure that part out easily enough. Ballistics can confirm it’s the murder weapon, and I’ll check the serial number to see if it belongs to the stepfather. Fingerprint analysis will tell us the rest. But Kate, what the hell? Why didn’t you lead with this information?”

“I hoped it wouldn’t be relevant.” The answer, though honest, sounded completely lame, even to my own ears.

“Enough stonewalling,” Martinez said. “I need you to be honest with me. Where is Rainbow now?”

“I have no idea.”

Martinez’s glare would have fried onions.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I came here today because I was trying to find her. Detective Martinez, I don’t think she did this. She had no motive.”

“I can see plenty of motive. We found a mess in the kitchen. Looks like your friend broke in here to swipe supplies and got caught by the victim.”

“Gabriel,” I said. “His name was Gabriel.”

Her expression softened. “Gabriel. You told me yourself that this Rainbow kid was adamant about not going back to her stepfather, and that if Gabriel saw her, he’d have been forced to turn her in. She might have panicked. People have killed for less.”

I ignored the comment, mainly because I knew it was true. “You mentioned that someone broke in. Did you see signs of forced entry?” I asked.

“Depends on what you mean by forced,” Martinez said. “We found an open window in the kitchen. It doesn’t appear to have been jimmied, but the lock doesn’t fully engage, either. The art teacher didn’t know anything about the broken lock, but she told us this Rainbow kid volunteered in the kitchen.”

“So do a lot of other kids.”

“Fair enough. But you have to admit, your friend looks suspicious.”

Something still felt off about the theory. “If the burglar—and I’m not saying it’s Rainbow—got interrupted in the kitchen, why did the shooting take place in Gabriel’s office?”

“I don’t know, but there are lots of possibilities. Maybe she didn’t get caught in the kitchen. Maybe she got caught swiping the drawing. Maybe Gabriel brought her into his office to talk. Hell, maybe he called her into the office for some nefarious reason and she shot him in self-defense. For all we know, he wasn’t the Mr. Nice Guy we’ve all been led to believe.”

“Why dump the gun?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was found in the alley, right?”

“Yes. What’s your point?”

“Whoever left it there had to have known someone would find it. The cash box, I can see. Most of these kids carry everything they own in a backpack, and a cash box that size would be too big to take with them. But why not keep the gun or dump it somewhere far away?”

“Criminals don’t always behave logically, Kate. From what you’ve told me about Rainbow, I doubt she came here intending to kill anyone. The victim surprised her, and the unthinkable happened. She was probably afraid she’d be caught with the evidence.” She sighed. “Hell, she’s just a kid. She likely planned to come back and pick it up later. She may have assumed that no one would look behind the dumpster.”

“But we don’t know for sure that Rainbow—”

“You’re right. We don’t know anything for sure. That’s why we’re collecting evidence.” Martinez stood. “I’m not rushing to judgment here, Kate. We’re still processing the scene. Even if we don’t find anything else relevant—and we almost always do—the gun will likely tell us all that we need. Until then, we wait.”

I’d never been a fan of waiting, but in this case, time might be on my side. I picked up the box containing Michael’s and my new foster pets. “If it’s okay, I should probably go and get these two guys settled. You know where to find me.”

“I do.” She pointed her index finger at me and said sternly, “Don’t forget that. And, Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I need to talk to that kid. You’ll let me know if she contacts you, right?”

“Absolutely.” Right after I convince Dale to represent her.