Read Online The Green Line by E. C. Diskin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: E. C. Diskin
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picture of a convenience store that looked familiar and quickly hit volume to hear the story:
“Two men who lived above a convenience store at Lake and Pulaski were found dead in their apartment early this morning. Police have determined that this was an apparent murder-suicide. One of the men, Mr. Ali Rashid, had recently been detained in relation to a drug-trafficking charge and the government had begun forfeiture proceedings against the property. It is unknown whether there is a connection between that matter and today’s events.”
Abby sat up, grabbed her glasses from the side table and stared harder at the screen, at a picture of Ali. She felt sick. And then his face was gone. The newscast moved on to the weather report.
EIGHT
ALI is dead? The words rang in her head over and over. She couldn’t process it. She didn’t know how to feel. Her stomach ached. She reached for the bedside phone, her hand trembling, but she stopped. She didn’t know who to call. She couldn’t even think of anyone to talk to. Both hands, as if they knew she might scream, clamped over her mouth as her head shook back and forth in disbelief and tears fell down her cheeks. How could this happen? She pictured his face, those soulful eyes, that warm smile. It was just a week ago that they’d met.
She tossed around most of the night, unable to sleep as she pictured Ali’s face, relived her night in that neighborhood, and reviewed every detail about their lunch at Italian Village. It didn’t make sense.
At work the next day, she remained distracted, wondering if she should do anything about this new information. She pulled out Officer Reilly’s card and dialed the number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Officer Reilly? It’s Abigail Donovan. We met last week?”
“Oh yes. How can I help you?”
“I was just watching the news last night and heard about Ali Rashid and his friend’s death.”
“Oh yeah. Quite a mess.”
Abby immediately pictured his dead body and the blood. She struggled to continue.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Donovan. I’m not sure how this relates to you.”
“Officer, it’s just that I met Ali. Like I told you. Actually, we had become friends, kind of.”
“I don’t think you mentioned that before.”
“No. Sorry.” There was no point lying now. “He told me all about the seizure of his store. I just can’t believe this happened. Can you tell me anything?”
“Well, Ms. Donovan, the evidence looks pretty clear. Mr. Rashid appears to have shot his friend and then himself—”
“No!” Abby interrupted. She just didn’t believe that Ali would hurt anyone, especially the man he considered family.
Reilly continued. “Perhaps he found out about his friend’s drug-dealing. We found a lot of drugs at his store. We’d been investigating that location for quite some time. It was a haven for trafficking and we knew at least one of them was involved. I’m sorry, Ms. Donovan. People are not always as they seem.”
Abby had nothing else to say. She was dumbstruck. She couldn’t believe it. Any of it. They hung up and she immediately hit the caller ID to find Gottlieb’s number to tell him the news.
Gottlieb sounded surprised but dispassionate. Perhaps his criminal law practice made him that way. He advised Abby that obviously he would quit pursuit of the matter. After all, he had no client. The forfeiture proceeding had already been instituted, and with the owner of the property dead, there was no one to come forward and fight against the process. The court would undoubtedly declare the property forfeited and auction it off.
No one seemed to care.
Abby spent the next hour searching the Internet for more stories about the shooting—anything to make sense of it. She found nothing. She stared at her e-mails and the stack of files on the desk, but she could not begin. Nothing made sense. Something about the last week’s events felt important, like she needed to pay attention. She stared up at her
“Two men who lived above a convenience store at Lake and Pulaski were found dead in their apartment early this morning. Police have determined that this was an apparent murder-suicide. One of the men, Mr. Ali Rashid, had recently been detained in relation to a drug-trafficking charge and the government had begun forfeiture proceedings against the property. It is unknown whether there is a connection between that matter and today’s events.”
Abby sat up, grabbed her glasses from the side table and stared harder at the screen, at a picture of Ali. She felt sick. And then his face was gone. The newscast moved on to the weather report.
EIGHT
ALI is dead? The words rang in her head over and over. She couldn’t process it. She didn’t know how to feel. Her stomach ached. She reached for the bedside phone, her hand trembling, but she stopped. She didn’t know who to call. She couldn’t even think of anyone to talk to. Both hands, as if they knew she might scream, clamped over her mouth as her head shook back and forth in disbelief and tears fell down her cheeks. How could this happen? She pictured his face, those soulful eyes, that warm smile. It was just a week ago that they’d met.
She tossed around most of the night, unable to sleep as she pictured Ali’s face, relived her night in that neighborhood, and reviewed every detail about their lunch at Italian Village. It didn’t make sense.
At work the next day, she remained distracted, wondering if she should do anything about this new information. She pulled out Officer Reilly’s card and dialed the number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Officer Reilly? It’s Abigail Donovan. We met last week?”
“Oh yes. How can I help you?”
“I was just watching the news last night and heard about Ali Rashid and his friend’s death.”
“Oh yeah. Quite a mess.”
Abby immediately pictured his dead body and the blood. She struggled to continue.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Donovan. I’m not sure how this relates to you.”
“Officer, it’s just that I met Ali. Like I told you. Actually, we had become friends, kind of.”
“I don’t think you mentioned that before.”
“No. Sorry.” There was no point lying now. “He told me all about the seizure of his store. I just can’t believe this happened. Can you tell me anything?”
“Well, Ms. Donovan, the evidence looks pretty clear. Mr. Rashid appears to have shot his friend and then himself—”
“No!” Abby interrupted. She just didn’t believe that Ali would hurt anyone, especially the man he considered family.
Reilly continued. “Perhaps he found out about his friend’s drug-dealing. We found a lot of drugs at his store. We’d been investigating that location for quite some time. It was a haven for trafficking and we knew at least one of them was involved. I’m sorry, Ms. Donovan. People are not always as they seem.”
Abby had nothing else to say. She was dumbstruck. She couldn’t believe it. Any of it. They hung up and she immediately hit the caller ID to find Gottlieb’s number to tell him the news.
Gottlieb sounded surprised but dispassionate. Perhaps his criminal law practice made him that way. He advised Abby that obviously he would quit pursuit of the matter. After all, he had no client. The forfeiture proceeding had already been instituted, and with the owner of the property dead, there was no one to come forward and fight against the process. The court would undoubtedly declare the property forfeited and auction it off.
No one seemed to care.
Abby spent the next hour searching the Internet for more stories about the shooting—anything to make sense of it. She found nothing. She stared at her e-mails and the stack of files on the desk, but she could not begin. Nothing made sense. Something about the last week’s events felt important, like she needed to pay attention. She stared up at her
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