department. I’ll stop by that cesspool he calls a store and have a little chat with him. Anyone else?”
“You might want to ask Jake that,” Darla replied. “She’s poking around into Curt’s background for a new client. She might have something for you.”
The suggestion earned her another approving nod, and Darla tried not to feel guilty. It was probably more than she should have said without Jake’s permission, but maybe it would offset the one thing she did not intend to mention: the set of bloody paw prints she’d noticed near Curt’s body. No way was she going to implicate Hamlet—and, by default, herself—by telling Reese she suspected her store mascot might know something about what happened to Curt. The crime scene tech looked like a pro. She would surely spot the paw prints and draw her own conclusions as to what they meant.
Not that the prints were necessarily Hamlet’s, or even feline in origin, Darla reassured herself. For all she knew, they might belong to one of those giant rats she was always hearing about that lived in the New York City sewers. But she couldn’t help recalling Curt’s assumption that it had been Hamlet he’d seen the previous week slinking out of the brownstone.
What if Hamlet had found his way outside again last night and paid a return visit to Curt and Barry’s brownstone in the wee hours of the morning? While Curt was headed up the basement steps with his crowbar, Hamlet might have been lurking down there looking for some entertainment. What if he had decided to play his favorite cat game of rushing up the stairs while dodging a human’s legs? If he’d startled Curt and the man had actually tripped over him, could Hamlet be guilty of manslaughter?
Darla had no idea what the ramifications might be, but she suspected it would not bode well for either Hamlet or Pettistone’s Fine Books. Animal control for Hamlet, perhaps, definitely a lawsuit for her! She suppressed a shudder.
“Getting chilly?” Reese asked sympathetically as he shut his notebook.
She nodded. “A little.”
“I think we’re done here. You can go, and we’ll see about getting your prints later, if we end up needing them. Mr. Eisen,” he called to Barry, “I’m finished with the witness statements. You can wait here until our techs are finished and the body is removed to lock up the place, or you can go and we’ll lock up for you. But I can’t let you back inside again until probably tomorrow, when we’ll release the scene.”
Barry left his post by the construction Dumpster and joined them. “Yeah, I’ll stick around. It doesn’t seem right to leave Curt there with strangers.”
“Do you want me to wait with you?” Darla asked, a lump in her throat. Though her emotion was not so much for Curt as it was for Barry. If something like this had happened to one of her friends, she couldn’t imagine wanting to stay and watch the blanketed body being carried out on a gurney . . . and yet she knew she’d feel compelled to do so, all the same. Having been friends with Curt since high school, Barry must surely feel as if he’d lost a brother.
He gave her a faint smile and shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but you need to get back to the store. You don’t want to leave that kid running the place by himself all afternoon. I’ll be fine here. I’ll give you a call or something later, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied and managed a smile in return.
While Barry took a seat on the partially demolished stoop, Reese walked with her the short distance to the sidewalk. Holding up the crime scene tape so that she could walk under it, he asked, “So, you dating that guy?”
Darla stared at him in surprise. The detective’s words had been casual, but something in his deliberately bland expression told her that his interest in the answer was not. Surely Reese wasn’t jealous . . . was he?
“We’re just friends. At least, at this point,” she replied, surprised to find herself complimented by Reese’s apparent interest in her love life. Maybe he was regretting not putting forth a little effort back when they’d first met. Maybe now he was gauging the situation to see if he should try moving in on what he considered Barry’s territory. The question was, should she give him any encouragement?
What the heck, she decided. Why not? True, she couldn’t see things