Ellie took off running before she could think. She flew past Vivian, pushed through the gate, and met the shuddering, pale-faced man.
“El doctor—el—doctor—”
he gasped.
The caterer’s horrified expression told the story, but she had to ask. “What happened to Dr. Kent?”
“No sé.”
He gasped again.
“Es muerto.”
Viv reached them, her breath a rasp. “Oh, my God. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”
“Sounds like,” said Ellie. “How’s your Spanish?”
“Negligible. What are you going to do?”
Ellie checked the terrace, where people in the crowd were staring, while a few of the male guests were coming down the stairs. She grabbed the caterer’s arm. “Go. Tell someone to call nine one one. Ask for an ambulance . . . and the police . . .
policía
. Okay?”
“Ah,
sí, sí, señorita
.”
He took off and Ellie started toward the guesthouse.
“Where are you going?” Viv raced along beside her.
“To wherever Dr. Kent is. The catering guy might be wrong. Maybe all he needs is CPR.”
“Can you do CPR?” Viv asked as they followed the raised brick path over the sand and salt grass and around to the rear of the cottage. Even though the sun hadn’t set, the outside motion sensors worked and the walkway was clearly in view.
“Uh, not exactly, but I could try.” They circled the house and stopped in their tracks when they saw a body lying with its head crooked at an awkward angle against the raised bricks edging the sidewalk.
“Don’t come any closer.” A man stepped out from the cottage wall and stood in front of them. “Is someone calling the police?”
Ellie stumbled to a stop and Viv ran into her from behind. Righting herself, she gazed up at the hunky guy from the terrace. “What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, who is this bozo?”
Rudy? It figured the little stinker would squirm his way out of the pen and follow her. She bent and picked up her boy. “No snooping and stay close,” she ordered, then set her yorkiepoo back on the walkway.
“I hope that mutt understands you, because the last thing the cops need is dog hair muddling the scene.” Hunky Guy frowned. “And to answer your question, I was taking a walk and heard the caterer’s shouts, so I came to see if I could help.”
“Is the body really Dr. Kent?” asked Vivian, peeking over Ellie’s shoulder. “And he’s dead?”
The body was dressed in a dark suit and tie; its features were chalky white, and its eyes were open wide, as if in shock. “Since neither of us has met him, I’m going to take a wild guess and say, yes, that would be the missing Martin Kent.” Ellie sighed.
“Oh, Lord, what am I supposed to say to Arlene?” asked Viv. “She’s going to fall apart.”
Voices came from behind them and the hunky guy clasped Viv’s elbow. “How about you meet whoever’s coming and tell them to return to the terrace? This is a possible crime scene. Make sure someone’s called nine one one and the local authorities. Then find your sister. She’s going to need you.”
Viv locked gazes with Ellie. “Should I do what he says?”
“It’s a good idea. If it’s really a crime scene, the less people tromping through here, the better.” She nudged Rudy with her toe. “Maybe you’d like to go with Viv.”
“Ahh, no.”
Viv took off and Ellie set her eyes on the stranger. “Who are you that you know so much about handling possible crime scenes?”
He shrugged. “I’ve had some experience. The name’s Bond, by the way. James Bond.”
“Oh, brother.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, and he cracked a wry smile. “I know. Blame it on my parents, especially my mother. She loves Sean Connery.”
“Poor you,” said Ellie. She nodded toward the victim. “What do you think happened?”
“I didn’t get close, but it looks like he fell backward and smacked his head on the brick edging. There’s a lot of blood. It’s—”
“Gory?”
“That’s a good way to put it.” He crossed his arms over his impressive chest. “And you are . . .”
“Ellie Engleman. I’m a friend of the woman who just left—one of the bride’s sisters.” She took a step of retreat. James Bond was as tall as Sam, with dark curly hair. Square-jawed, with deep-set eyes and a blade of a nose, he was also a tad . . . imposing. “And this is my dog, Rudy.”
“I’m her main man, so don’t get any ideas.”
Ignoring the canine’s comments, she bit her bottom lip and waited, but Mr. Bond didn’t explain his relationship to anyone in the group. “You’re positive he’s dead?” she asked him.
“He’s gone, all right. I’d say the TOD was within the last sixty minutes or so.”
TOD!
Ellie had heard enough police talk to know this man was more than a casual observer. “You still haven’t said. Why are you here?”
“I’m renting a summer house a couple of doors down. Arlene asked me to attend the party just yesterday, and I arrived a little early, so I tried to stay out of the way of family.” He used air quotes for the last word, and his pearly whites gleamed in the floodlights. “So, you’re not a member of the immediate family, either, huh? Guess that makes us connected somehow.”
“Not in this lifetime, pal.”
Sirens wailed in the distance and Ellie heaved a sigh of relief. She was absolutely not connected to this guy, and she didn’t want to be. Once the cops got here, she and Viv, and Rudy and Mr. T, could retreat and watch the action. It was tragic that Arlene had lost her future husband, but this was one crime scene investigation she was not going to be a part of.
“Lord, what a mess,” muttered Viv, plopping her bottom next to Ellie on the sofa. “When are the cops going to leave?”
Ellie rolled her shoulders and leaned back into the cushions of the couch centered in the house’s spacious living room. She and the rest of the guests and their dogs had been hanging around waiting to be questioned for the past two hours, while Vivian had been upstairs with her sister. “I have no idea, but I’m sure they’re doing the best they can.”
“You’re the one with experience in this kind of thing. Can’t you give me a guess on what they’re planning to do?”
Ellie cocked her head. “The way I understand it, jurisdiction is handled differently out here. When someone calls nine one one, they phone the EMTs and the local police, who are first on the scene. The cops inspect the site and decide if the death is suspicious. Then they cordon off the area and call the medical examiner and Suffolk County Homicide. The ME gives a preliminary cause of death, and if they say it might be murder, the homicide detectives take over the investigation, which means—”
“Hang on. Who gave you all this information?” asked Viv.
“I heard a couple of the cops talking. Since the next string of investigators has already arrived, I assume the death was considered suspicious, which is why every guest is being questioned. I imagine there’s already a forensics team at the cottage and a pair of detectives who are taking down the info needed to start the case rolling.”
Viv raised a hand, her way of begging for things to stop. “TMI, Ellie. Twink and I are tired. We just want to go to bed, not sit through this ridiculous cross-examination.”
“That goes ditto for me,”
quipped Rudy, who’d been asleep at Ellie’s feet since they’d done as the first officers on the scene had asked, and taken a seat in the house.
“Just be glad the police stopped those vans from Montauk Manor before they unloaded their passengers, or this place would be a real zoo.” Ellie scanned the room and saw Elsie Hogarth being led to one of the questioning areas. “With a suspicious death, every person here has to be grilled.”
“Can’t you call Sam and ask him to stick his nose in this mess? His opinion has to count for something.”
“Not here, it doesn’t.”
Ellie poked a toe in Rudy’s bottom. “A Manhattan detective’s opinion counts for squat here. The way I heard it, the crime is investigated down the line, with a procedure already in place.”
“Whatever happened to that guy we met at the cottage?” Viv glanced out over the room. “And who did he say he was?”
“I’d like the answer to those questions myself. If you ask me, James Bond should be a suspect.”
Viv’s eyes opened wide. “A what?”
“You heard me. He was on the terrace. Then he disappeared. And wasn’t it funny how he turned up right as we hit the scene? It was a little too convenient, if you ask me.”
“So this is how it starts,” said Vivian, cracking a smile.
“How what starts?”
“You’re already working on this death, just like you’ve done all the other murders you solved, and—”
“For God’s sake keep your voice down,” Ellie said, throwing her a look. “The last thing I want is for people to know I’ve played amateur sleuth. I promised Sam I’d turn over a new leaf and stay out of stuff that didn’t concern me, and I meant it.”
“All right, I’ll keep it buttoned,” Viv answered, her lower lip thrust out in a pout. “But really, this does concern you—because it concerns me. And I’m your best friend. That means something in my book. You might even be able to figure this out faster than the real cops.”
“I forgot to ask. How is Arlene?” Ellie said, changing the subject.
“I don’t know what a normal reaction would be for a person who finds out she just lost a loved one through a violent death, but if you ask me, her actions were a little strange. At first she flew in six different directions—crying, shouting, stomping. I wasn’t sure if it was the shock or grief that had her going.” Viv heaved a sigh. “Then my mom took over and Arlene broke down again. Adrianne checked out her medicine cabinet and found something to calm her down. Arlene took one of the tablets and she was more in control after a while. Mom said she needed to sleep, so we left.”
“Sounds as if your mom and dad are in charge now.”
“I guess. Mother is good at planning and arranging, and Dad loves to boss people around, so this might be just the ticket for them.” Viv looked around again. “She said they’d been ordered by the cops to move out of the guesthouse, but they weren’t going to do it tonight.”
“Your father told me the police put him in charge of the guests. The caterers are clearing the tents and tables from the backyard, and Rosa is cleaning the kitchen and terrace. Since you and I sort of found the body—”
“We’ll be up soon? Lord, I hope so.”
Ellie rested her head on the cushions. “I hope so, too. Elsie just left for one of the rooms, but she should be out soon because you and I are probably her and Connie’s alibi.”
“I know they’ve already spoken with Scott and Miriam, Faith and Christian, and the rest. Have you seen the R relatives?”
Ellie blew out a breath. “That’s one group I can’t keep straight. Robert, Roberta, Rachel, Reba . . . what other women’s names begin with the letter R?”
“Try Roseanne and Rita for the last two, and you’re right. They’re cousins from my mother’s side. Until today, I’d only seen them when she hosted a party.”
“I never knew you had this much family,” said Ellie. She had no living relatives on her mother’s or her father’s side, so Viv was her sister-in-heart. “You could have told me.”
“Ha! Why? They’re all a bunch of blowhard Mensa members, too smart for their own good, if you ask me. They’re completely wrapped up in themselves. Even Adrianne, who lives with mommy and daddy because she says she isn’t able to ground herself in her painting any longer. Claims her nerves are shot and her inspiration has taken a hike.”
“I didn’t see her for most of the night.”
“Mother says Adrianne went back to the cottage for a ‘lie-down’ sometime before Dr. Kent’s body was found.”
“Really? Then she might have been in the guest cottage when he died.” Ellie worked to phrase her next sentence so Viv wouldn’t renew her lecture on detecting skills. “I wonder if Adrianne saw anything . . . or heard something odd from outside when the doctor fell and cracked his head.”
Vivian crossed her arms. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re doing it again.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just—”
Their conversation was interrupted by Arlene stumbling into the living room from the foyer. “I just remembered. Has anyone thought about Myron? He can’t stay out all night. Someone has to take care of him. He’s—he’s—”
“He’s in his cage in the kitchen, Arlene,” said Evan McCready, appearing from the dining room. “I just brought him in. Does he need special care for overnight?”
Arlene spun around and practically tripped into her father’s arms. “He needs his cage covered—and—and a slice of apple for a bedtime snack—and—fresh water—and—and—” She began to sob. “Oh, Daddy, what am I going to do?”
“I thought you said Adrianne gave her medication to quiet her down.” Ellie kept her tone low as Arlene wailed in her father’s arms. “She sounds more revved than ever.”
“I have no idea what Adrianne gave her, so I don’t know what’s going on,” whispered Viv.
Evan McCready drew his oldest daughter back into the foyer. “We’ll take care of everything, honey. You go to bed and try to sleep.”
“Ms. Engleman? Ms. McCready?” said a voice from the rear of the living room.
Viv shot to her feet. “I’m Ms. McCready,” she told the cop.
“And you’re Engleman?”
Ellie knew the drill. “Yes, sir.”
“Follow me.”
“Just a second.” She grasped Viv’s elbow. “Viv, listen.”
“What?”
“When they ask you a question, don’t joke around. Answer honestly and quickly, and whatever you do, don’t lie.”
Viv rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“You can. Just stay focused and do what I said.”
“Ladies?” The frowning officer waved a hand. “You’re wasting department time.” He headed back into the hall. “Move it along.”
They followed him, and reached Viv’s room first, where the officer opened the door and nodded. “Ms. McCready. You’ll be seeing Detective Levy.”