“I need a flashlight,” Lula said. “I can’t freakin’ see where I’m going.”
It didn’t help that she was wearing platform FMPs.
“I think you’re heading into the bushes,” I said. “Go right.”
“How far right? Where are you? Oh shit!”
There was the sound of Lula crashing into a bush, a grunt, and silence.
I flicked the flashlight app on my cellphone and aimed it at Lula. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I tripped over something. God knows what these loser college kids leave laying around.”
I played the light from the phone around Lula. She was sprawled on the ground, and it was clear that she’d tripped over a body. The body was on its back, had an arm in a sling, and a hole in its head. It was Mintner, and I was pretty sure he was
dead. His eyes were open but fixed, and he’d leaked a lot of blood. A bolt of cold fear and revulsion ripped through me, and I swallowed back a rush of nausea.
“M-m-mintner,” I said.
“Say what?”
“You tripped over Dean Mintner. I think he’s dead.”
I had my light trained on the body, but my hand was shaking, and the light was dancing around.
Lula scrambled away and jumped to her feet. “Holy shit. Holy crap. Damnation. I hate dead people. I’m gonna have the creeps. I touched him. I’m gonna have the death cooties. I need a shower. I need a cheeseburger. Someone get me fries.”
I shut the flashlight app off and called Morelli.
“I’m at the Zeta house,” I said. “Lula and I were walking around the house, looking for Gobbles, and Lula tripped over Dean Mintner. I’m pretty sure he’s dead. Okay, I’m positive he’s dead. He’s got a bullet hole in his head.”
I hung up with Morelli and flashed the light around the area. I didn’t see any more bodies, dead or otherwise.
“He’s on his way,” I said to Lula. “And he’s sending a uniform. Give me your gun, and I’ll stay here. You go out to the road and wait for the uniform.”
Lula handed her gun over. “You know how to use this, right?”
“Sort of.”
If I was going to keep working for Vinnie, I was going to have to learn some skills. Some self-defense moves. And I needed to be more comfortable with a variety of firearms. I needed to at least be able to confiscate a gun and make sure I didn’t shoot myself in the process.
I was taking a lot of deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I had the flashlight app off, and I was standing in total darkness. I was listening for a footfall, but my heart was beating so loud in my ears, I wasn’t sure I could hear an elephant approaching. My fear was that I was in the shooter’s sights. That some nutcase serial killer freak was in the shadows, thinking maybe he should kill me, too. I’d moved away from the body, but I didn’t want to leave and chance that the crime scene would be disturbed. Or that the body would disappear.
I saw police strobes flash in the sky, and moments later I heard Lula talking, and I saw the glare of the Maglite the cop was carrying. I put the gun on the ground and stepped away.
I knew the cop. Eddie Gazarra. I went to high school with him, and now he was married to my cousin Shirley the Whiner.
“Lula’s gun is on the ground,” I said. “You don’t want to mistake it for the murder weapon. Maybe you want to let her put it back in her purse.”
Eddie flicked a beam of light on the gun. “Is it legal?”
“Is your momma?” Lula asked him.
“I never saw that gun,” Eddie said, moving the light over to the body.
Thirty minutes later the area was secure. It had been roped off with crime scene tape and lights had been set up. The band had packed up and gone home. The students attending the party were detained in the Zeta house. They’d be questioned one by one and released. The side yard was filled with EMTs, cops, a forensic photographer, the coroner, the first of the crime scene techs, and Morelli. Lula said she had the heebie-jeebies, so I sent her home.
“It looks like he hasn’t been dead long,” Morelli said to me. “So far we haven’t found anyone who heard gunshots. The band was playing. No one was in this back area. Except you.”