Aurora 07 - Last Scene Alive by Charlaine Harris Page B

Both of them stood with one hand pressed against the door frame, on opposite sides. Altogether, the movie people were doing a great job of destroying evidence.
    And I heard the voice I’d been dreading to hear, Robin’s.
    “What’s wrong, Roe?” he asked.
    “I’m so sorry,” I said, almost whispering. I wanted to be a hundred miles away.
    “What’s happened?” Robin’s voice got louder as his fear mounted.
    “She’s dead,” Barrett said. “I can’t believe it, but she’s dead. We spent last night together, and now she’s dead.”
    “What did you say?” Robin bellowed, and I crouched down.
    “We . . .” All of a sudden, Barrett seemed to realize that this was neither the time nor the place nor the best choice of confidant. “Forget it, man,” he muttered, but there were many ears clustering around by that point, including mine, and if Barrett had truly wanted to keep this intimate knowledge to himself, it was too late by thirty seconds.
    That helped me pull myself together more than anything.
    I moved over to my stepson, and laid my hand on his arm. He looked at me, too distraught to be hostile. “Barrett,” I said, as quietly and earnestly as I could, “don’t say anything else.

    Everyone is listening. The police will be here soon.”
    “An ambulance,” he began, and then closed his mouth with a snap.
    “We called 911. But it’s not gonna do her any good, and you know it. That woman was killed,” I told him, keeping my voice even and low.
    “Murdered?” he said, way too loud. I could see cell phones spring up right, left, and sideways.
    “Quiet, Barrett. Yes, she was murdered. I’d keep my mouth shut, if I were you.”
    Anger flashed across his handsome face, followed by intense thought. Barrett was certainly good at projecting his changing emotions.
    “What did you say?” Robin was standing to Barrett’s side, his fists clenched.
    “I was just talking. Ignore me.” Barrett turned to walk away.
    As if I weren’t there, Robin spun Barrett around and clamped both his hands on Barrett’s shoulders. Barrett was younger than Robin by around fifteen years, but he was shorter, and Robin had a pretty good grip. I was going to have to believe Robin hadn’t disengaged from his affair with Celia as much as he’d thought.
    The movie people on the set were milling around, and I could hear sirens coming closer.
    But everyone there seemed to see his or her role as that of spectator, rather than participant.
    Robin opened his mouth to yell at Barrett, and Barrett’s eyes ignited with anger, and I cast around for someone to help me.
    Of course! Angel Youngblood met my eyes and moved behind Barrett, while I got behind Robin and circled him with my arms and pulled. Someone behind me actually laughed, and I resolved to track down who that was and kick him in the shins. I know I am small, and I know Robin is tall, but I was not in the mood for amusement.
    Robin actually struggled for a minute, but I clung like a barnacle, and when he realized who it was had ahold of him, he relaxed. Blocked by his body from seeing what progress Angel had made with Barrett, I pulled gently on Robin’s arms to get him to take a few steps away. He came willingly, and I could see that the anger had drained out of him. Robin wrapped his long arms around me and pulled me close, bowing his head over mine and crying.
    For once I wished I were taller. I would put his face in the hollow of my neck and let him cry there, concealed, if only I could. I stood on tiptoes to let him lean on me more comfortably, and I patted his back. I wondered if I had any tissues in my purse, a soft mesh shoulder bag that was now banging uncomfortably on my bottom.
    Will Weir was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, his head buried in his hands. Meredith Askew was slumped by him, her makeup a mess, her hair all tangled. She was sitting as close to Will as she could get without climbing in his lap. Joel Park Brooks began shrieking at someone a