Chapter Three
First thing next morning, before she'd even showered, Juliet got summoned to a crime scene. She was sluggish, moving a little slower than usual after last night's margaritas, and managed only to pull her hair into a presentable-enough bun before heading out the door. Given the early hour, she decided it wouldn't be out of order to grab coffee on her way to the scene. She figured if she included one for Lassiter, they'd both get off to a good start.
Fortunately, there was a Starbucks with a drive-through window en route. To stave off the looming hangover, Juliet popped a couple of the ibuprofen she kept in the glovebox while waiting in line. She checked her watch: she was making decent time. Coffees finally in hand, Juliet got back on the road.
The address turned out to be on a strip with a few retail shops – all closed this time of morning – along with a restaurant catering to the evening crowd, across a narrow alley from a café serving breakfast. And coffee, she realized belatedly. Oh, well – even if he had already gotten a caffeine fix, Lassiter would never turn down another cup.
As she emerged from her car, Juliet scanned the street. Her delay meant that the place was already crawling with the forensics crew. With mild irritation, she also noted that the blue Echo was parked in a slightly out-of-the-way spot, revealing both that Shawn and Gus were here and that they were trying to be discreet about it. Juliet wondered what circumstances might have dragged them both out of bed before seven.
The locus of activity seemed to be inside the alleyway, and she followed the general flow of movement. No sign of the boys outside, so she glanced in the window of the café as she passed. A familiar shock of hair stood out near the counter, looking unintentionally messier than usual. She smiled knowingly – snacks before crime-solving, always – even as she longed to stop for a pastry herself.
She ventured into the dimmer lighting of the alley, nodding at the prints guy as she passed, and finally spotted Lassiter, directing staff from his post near the back door of the restaurant – closed, she noted. The alley itself seemed to exist only as a storage zone for dumpsters, with an egress at the far end, and was barely wide enough for cars to pass. Not the worst place to hide a body, if one were so inclined.
Juliet came up behind Lassiter, who turned at her approach as if he knew she was there. She handed him his coffee, pleased to note that he was empty-handed. Lassiter murmured his thanks and, Juliet was even happier to observe, offered not a word of complaint at her tardiness. Finally, she turned her attention to the street. Several trash cans had been overturned, their debris scattered across the pavement. Signs of a struggle, or maybe of raccoons.
Together, they surveyed the scene in silence. Gradually, something occurred to Juliet. "Don't tell me I'm so late I missed the removal of the body," she said.
Lassiter smiled mirthlessly. "I wondered when you were going to notice."
An officer approached them, nervous; Juliet couldn't place him, but his nametag read McMurray. "Sir, I've taken statements from the staff at Café Caramella. We're working through the neighborhood to see if anyone else is open nearby, and we have a call in to the owner of Maximo's."
"Maximo's?" Lassiter asked, scowling.
McMurray nodded to the door behind the detectives, which bore a sign with the name. "The restaurant. It's not open now, but would have been late last night."
Juliet took a deep breath. "Can someone bring me up to speed? What's going on? I thought there was a homicide."
As if he'd only just noticed her presence, McMurray turned to Juliet with an air of surprise. "We did, too. A report came in of a body, found here." He gestured vaguely to the ground behind the toppled trash bins. "The 911 call came from the morning manager of the coffeeshop, college kid. Poor thing." He shook his head and stopped, as if contemplating the manager's trauma.
Juliet felt rather than saw the impatience building in Lassiter with each of the officer's asides. She lifted her coffee cup for a sip, hoping he might do the same rather than shout for a quicker answer.
"And the body?" Lassiter asked through gritted teeth. Good enough.
"Well, that's the thing." McMurray seemed to cheer up at this. "When the EMTs got here, she turned out to be unconscious but alive. They took her to Regional."
Juliet blinked. "So, no homicide?" She paused. "Attempted homicide? Do we have an ID?"
McMurray tilted his head. "From what I hear, she was in rough shape. Ligature wounds on her neck, a lot of facial bruising. She didn't trip, that's for sure. As far as I know, she's still unconscious, no ID found nearby."
Lassiter grimaced, tugging at his tie, as if the absence of a homicide eliminated the need for formality. "What the hell are we here for if there's no body?"
"I have the same question!" rang out a dramatic voice from behind them.
Juliet and Lassiter exchanged a look.
"Who invited Spencer?" Lassiter growled.
McMurray looked sheepish and backed away.
Shawn sauntered down the alleyway, arms outstretched as if to beckon an audience. In one hand, he held an enormous sticky bun, glaze dripping onto his fingers. "I ask, if there is no body here, then who are we? Anybody?"
Behind him, Gus followed at a respectable and less attention-grabbing distance. He looked a little apprehensive, as if he weren't yet convinced of the absence of a corpse.
Lassiter rolled his eyes and turned away. "Waste of my time," he grumbled.
Unsure whether he meant the non-homicide or the presence of Shawn, Juliet, without consciously deciding to do so, pounced on the former. "Carlton, are you honestly saying that you'd rather a woman be dead right now?"
He spun around, mouth open in shock. His eyes darted past her to where Shawn and Gus stood. She stared him down. "Uh," he began, and faltered.
Juliet narrowed her eyes. "That's what I thought."
Lassiter's mouth snapped shut, and he looked down, deflated.
"And you," Juliet said, turning on Shawn and Gus, who were craning their necks to get a better look at the scene, apparently still not convinced there was nothing to see, "were never invited in the first place, so you're more than welcome to go on your merry way."
Shawn stared at Juliet in surprise; she always gave him the benefit of the doubt. Gus' eyes widened. "I think we've seen enough. See you later, Juliet." He turned to go, plucking at Shawn's sleeve.
Okay, maybe that hangover was hitting a little harder than she realized.
Lassiter rubbed a hand across his face, as if suddenly tired. "What are you even doing awake this early, Spencer?"
Shawn latched onto this opening, and took a few steps closer, eyes raking the ground rather than on the detective. "Ah, what you call early is what is to others late." He paused, as if he'd confused himself. "I haven't slept yet."
Before he could get within arm's reach – choking distance – of Lassiter, Juliet stepped in his path and glared until he looked at her again. "Shawn."
Something in her face persuaded Shawn to retreat without further comment. But before he left, he took an unusually large bite of his sticky bun, holding her gaze the entire time and walking backwards. She watched as he slowly chewed, half of the piece dangling from his lips, and it was a grotesque sight.
When she turned back to the scene, she caught Lassiter, eyeing not Shawn but Juliet herself with a wary air. "Not that I don't appreciate any excuse to get rid of the Bobbsey twins, but what was that all about?"
Juliet shrugged and tried to smile. "Oh, you know. I just haven't had my coffee yet." As if to prove it, she took a big gulp from her cup.
Still guarded, Lassiter eased away from Juliet and over to the toppled trash bins. "The woman was found behind here, half-buried, as if the cans were deliberately emptied over her body."
Juliet tried to focus, composing her features into an expression of intense interest.
He gestured to the ground, where some partially flattened boxes bearing brewing company logos were scattered. "Mostly food waste, from the restaurant and the café, from the look of it. Coffee filters and such." Lassiter leaned over for a closer look and made a groan of disgust. "I don't want to know what that was."
"Mmm-hmm." Juliet took another sip of coffee.
"I'd wager that there might be something of value to the case in here, but I'm damned if I'm up to go combing through trash to look for a makeshift garrote or the conveniently dropped driver's license of the assailant. Maybe we leave that to the – what is wrong with you?"
Spooked, Juliet jumped as Lassiter whirled on her. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying for innocence as she unglazed her eyes.
"Were you planning on contributing to this investigation or should I just carry on by myself?" Though his words suggested annoyance, Lassiter's eyes revealed true concern as he drew nearer to her again.
With a sigh, Juliet admitted, "Okay, I may have indulged in one too many margaritas last night. I'm fine – I just didn't expect to have to operate at 100 percent first thing."
Lassiter's eyes danced as a smirk slowly came to his face. "Little Miss Perfect drank too much?"
"Stop!" she protested, but she was laughing. "For the record, I took a taxi there and home."
"Oh, so you knew you were getting yourself into trouble." Lassiter seemed to enjoy teasing her. He moved right up into her personal space and grinned down at her.
A little surprised that his reaction was amusement rather than aggravation, Juliet played along. "Considering I spent half the night talking about you, I think the volume of alcohol consumed was warranted."
He blinked.
"My friend Deborah is on board, by the way."
"So you're setting me up with a lush?" Lassiter kept up his side of the banter, but Juliet noticed a new uneasiness in him as his eyes darted elsewhere.
She treaded more carefully, still committed to keeping it light. "I told her you could meet on Saturday. That is, unless you're still on that night with Blair the Professional."
Lassiter studied her for a moment, more serious now. "I suppose you need a sticky bun to soak up the excess booze in your system." He was still remarkably close to her.
"Sounds good," she said faintly. Then she thought of Shawn. "Maybe something a little less sticky."
Abruptly, Lassiter turned away and strode in the direction of the main street. "Let's have a chat with the staff."
Juliet shook her head as if to clear it and trotted after him.
Lassiter held the café door open for her, and as she passed through, he said, "Tomorrow night works for me."
"Works for what?"
They both jumped. Seated at the table just inside, this time making short work of an oversized pineapple Danish, was Shawn. Next to him, Gus held a half-eaten muffin and shot a glance at the door as soon as he saw the detectives.
Lassiter scowled. "None of your beeswax, Spencer." He brushed past them to the counter without another word.
"You don't have to hog all the beeswax yourself, Lassie! Beehives are large enough to share!" Shawn called after him.
Gus and Juliet exchanged looks. "I should get going on my route now," he said. With one enormous bite, he crammed the rest of the muffin into his mouth and stood up. "Moolieht," he said to her in parting.
Shawn looked as if he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. He followed his ride out of the café.
By the time Juliet reached the counter, Lassiter had already ordered her a cheddar scallion scone. She accepted it with gratitude. His own scone in hand, Lassiter lifted his badge to show the cashier and asked for the manager who'd called the police.
The manager turned out to be petite and dark-haired, still looking shaken from her discovery. She led them to one of the small round tables in the corner. The police presence around the café kept all but a few regulars out, so they had relative privacy.
Juliet felt a lighter touch might be necessary and took the lead, which Lassiter permitted. "What can you tell us about the woman you found this morning?"
The manager looked down, collecting her thoughts. "Well, it was a little before six. I have to start the first pots of coffee before opening," she explained. "I go in through the back door in the alley, since that's where the security alarm is. And I saw – I saw feet next to the dumpster."
They waited for her to compose herself.
"I think she worked at Maximo's. We never really see the staff there – they open at 3, when we're closing. But she had on an apron, like –" She motioned down at her own apron.
"Like she worked in food service," Juliet completed helpfully.
She nodded. "I got spooked, so I ran inside and called 911 right away. I wasn't sure…" The manager spread her hands as if at a loss.
"You did the right thing." Juliet glanced at Lassiter, who watched the exchange without comment. "You may have even saved her life."
The girl seemed relieved at the news.
Juliet took note of the manager's name and contact information. They thanked her and left her to her work.
"Robbed for her tips?" Lassiter murmured as they headed outside.
Juliet pulled off a piece from the scone and popped it into her mouth. Savory and dense; he'd made the right call to treat her hangover. "I don't know. We'll have to talk to the owner and see who was on last night."
Lassiter drained the rest of his coffee and tossed it in a bin outside the café. "Well, no need to hang around here until afternoon. Meet you back at the station?"
Juliet nodded, eating the scone with embarrassing speed. "Thanks again, by the way," she said with her final bite.
"It was necessary. We've only got room for one grouch in this partnership."