Secondhand Stiff Read Online Free PDF Page A

Red’s mind the same time it did mine. He turned to the crowd. “Everyone back up, way up, and put away those damn phones. Don’t you have a shred of decency?”
    The gawkers backed up until they were against the row of units facing the locker. One of the Latino guys who’d won the earlier auction still had his phone aimed at the chaos.
    â€œPut that damn thing away,” Red roared at him.
    The guy’s friend said something to him in Spanish, causing him to pocket his phone quick as a bunny.
    Glancing at the guy by the door, Red signaled for it to be raised. He let loose of Ina. “You stay put,” he ordered and moved her back several feet.
    Renee, Mom, and I gathered around Ina. Renee put an arm around her. Ina clung to her but never took her frightened eyes from the door of the storage locker. If Ina decided to make a break for Tom’s body, there was no chance my mother-in-law would ever be able to stop her, so I stayed close. I understood Ina’s desire and need to be with her husband. If that had been Greg in there, I would have crashed through the closed metal door like a charging bull. If by some miracle Tom Bruce was still alive, someone with a clear head would have to do the checking. If he wasn’t, a grieving widow wouldn’t do the crime scene any good.
    The door raised, displaying Tom in the same place where we’d last seen him. I had half hoped it had been some sick prank staged by Tom to scare the crap out of his wife and auction-seeking colleagues. You know, a little stage blood and the right timing. That when the door was raised again, the lounger would be empty and Tom would be standing off to the side, tall and lanky, healthy and whole, ready to jump out at everyone. But it wasn’t a joke. The body was there just as we’d last seen it, and so was the large hole in his head and the massive bloodstain on the back of the headrest. Everyone stared in silence; the only sound this time was the faint buzzing of flies.
    Ina stared through her tears as Red checked the body for life. Finding none, he slowly shook his head in our direction. Ina struggled against her aunt. I grabbed her by both arms. “You can’t help Tom, Ina,” I told her, infusing as much comfort as I could into my voice.
    Ina reared back from me, nearly toppling Renee. When I reached out to stop Renee’s fall, hoping to avoid a broken hip, Ina broke free and ran into the storage locker. I didn’t have the heart to stop her, nor did Red. No matter how much of a jerk Tom Bruce had been, he was Ina’s husband. She reached to touch the gaping wound but stopped herself at the last minute. From where we stood, we could hear stifled whimpers. Assured Renee was stable on her feet, I moved forward to stand with Ina, who had fallen to her knees by the lounger in a sobbing mess. I placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
    Red started to object to my presence in the locker. “We’re her family,” I told him, indicating myself, Mom, and Renee. He nodded and backed off.
    Through her weeping I thought Ina was saying something to me. I bent closer, but it wasn’t me she was speaking to, it was Tom. She raised her head, stared at the corpse of her husband, and whispered, “You stupid, stupid bastard.”
    Before I could delicately ask Ina what she meant, we heard sirens. They were still off in the distance but approaching quickly, like a sandstorm. Kim took off at a trot in the direction of the front gate, probably with the intent of guiding them to the crime scene.
    I looked back at the crowd, scanning it for Linda McIntyre, to see how she was taking Tom’s death. After her initial screech of horror, I half expected her to fight Ina for grieving rights, but she was otherwise occupied. Off by the end of the building, out of earshot, she was having words with the short African American woman with the visor. Their words were animated, but the volume was contained.