Angel Angst Read online

  Then it was gone.

  What was that?

  Sunny stood up from the stool, searching for it. Without turning on the light, or taking off her gloves, she opened the door to the darkroom just wide enough for her to slip through.

  There it is.

  She spotted it as it moved backwards, receding in scope and intensity, and getting farther away from her. Captivated, she followed the waning light that had invaded her once opaque sanctuary into the front of the studio. But when she got there, it had disappeared. There was nothing left of it. No scent. No warm feeling. Nothing.

  All that was there was a feather.

  She stared at it as it floated toward the floor along with the motes of dust seen in the light that filtered through her front window. Sunny watched, unable to take her eyes from it, until it landed.

  “Where did you come from?” she said and walked over to it. She bent down, picked it up and turned to look at her down coat draped over the chair, then back at the feather.

  “Did you come from my coat?”

  She shook her head. “You couldn’t have. Could you?”

  Then she heard the jangle of the bell, as the door she thought she had locked swung open.

  Chapter Five

  “Divit!” Sunny screeched. “You scared me half to death! How did you get in here?”

  Divit held up a set of keys. “Uhm . . . With the keys you gave me.”

  “I gave them to you for emergencies.”

  “I thought this might perhaps be an emergency. I tried calling you – several times – and no answer. With you being chased by a murderer and all, I thought it might be a good idea to come and check on you.”

  “There is no murderer chasing me.” Sunny walked over to the window and peered out of it, looking up to the sky, then right and left down the street.

  “Yeah. Well. You can’t really be sure about that,” Divit said. “And if something happened to you, you’d miss my graduation tomorrow.” Sunny glared at him. “See you are jumpy.”

  “That wasn’t a ‘jumpy’ look I just gave you,” Sunny said.’

  “It was laced in fear.”

  “More like annoyance.”

  “I can tell, Sunny. Whatever word you use, it does seem as if you’re a little worried about the man who killed that girl, too.”

  “I’m not worried . . . I’m . . . I’m just . . .” Sunny cocked her head to the side. “Did you notice a light or anything when you came in?”

  “What kind of light?”

  “A bright light. Like really bright.”

  Divit raised his eyebrows, the red undertones to his mocha-colored smooth skin was more pronounced from being out in the cold. He ran his hand over his coal black hair, then patted it back into place. He looked back at the door he had just entered, then up at the ceiling. “No,” he said. “Don’t think so. Just the light in here.” He pointed up.

  Sunny followed his finger, and staring at the recessed lighting, then asked him, “Did you pray to the Archangel Michael about me?”

  “Why?” Divit asked suspiciously.

  “Just wondering.” She brought her eyes back down and met his.

  “No. Actually I didn’t.” Divit cocked his head mimicking Sunny’s earlier stance. “Well, I hadn’t yet. Do you want me to?”

  Sunny blew out a breath. “No. Never mind. I was just wondering.”

  “Would you like to pray now?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Really. I’m good.” She sat down in the window seat. “I did enough of my own praying this morning.” Sunny looked at Divit. “I needed earthly help when I called you, you know.”

  “I’m here now.”

  “Yeah, buddy,” she laughed. “You’re a bit too late.”

  “Well since I’m here, you want to show me the pictures? Maybe I can still help.”

  “My pictures!” Sunny screeched, she hopped up and ran back toward her darkroom. “They’ve been in the fixer all this time. Oh my, God. They’re probably ruined.”

  “What fixer?” Divit ran after her.

  “Don’t turn on the light,” Sunny warn Divit as he bolted through the darkroom on her heels.

  “What fixer?” he repeated his question.

  “The solution it was in when that light came bursting in here.”

  “Light? A light was in here? Isn’t it supposed to be dark when you develop film?”

  “Yes. Darkroom. Duh. And I don’t know why the light was in here.” Sunny said as she popped on the light in the room. “But I thought that it might be . . .”

  “Be what?”

  “I don’t know . . .” She contemplated for a few moments, trying to decide if she should voice her thoughts. “An angel?” She let the words out, and then wished she hadn’t. At least not to Divit.

  Divit’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?”

  “No.” Sunny shook her head. “I’m not. I couldn’t be. I had just thought . . . I don’t know what it was.”

  “Why did you think it was an angel?”

  “I don’t know. It just felt like it.”

  “How does it feel to be with an angel?” He sat down on her stool, his brows crinkled, a grin on his face. “What did it feel like?”

  “Can I just do this? Please?” Sunny said and pointed to her work area. She went over and shut the door, closing out the light from the hall and flipped on the amber lights she had on the back wall. “I don’t want my pictures ruined.”

  She grabbed the canister she’d placed on the counter earlier and gently pulled out the roll of film. Getting to work on trying to salvage the “evidence,” she wondered if she could even answer Divit’s question.

  It was a silly thought anyway. The feather probably had come from her coat, although she hadn’t figured out how, but knew there couldn’t be any other answer for it.

  Standing over the sink, she took a sponge to take the excess water off the film. Then in one swift movement, she fastened it to the wire line stretched across the back of the room with film hanger clips. She placed one at the bottom to weigh the roll down and keep it from curling up as it dried. Concentrating on her task, she chewed on the side of tongue as she opened the drawer next to the sink and quickly selected a magnifying loupe. Bumping the drawer shut with her hip, and careful not to touch the film, Sunny did a cursory look down the outstretched roll to make sure the film was good, then she narrowed in to find the one of the shoes – the one where they were lying perpendicular to the red door. Holding her breath, she leaned in close and stared at it.

  “Is that the picture of the murderer?”

  Sunny spun around. “Oh my goodness you scared me. I forgot you were here.” She put a hand over her heart, trying to get it to slow down.

  “Where else would I be?” He stepped closer to her. “Can I see?” he asked.

  “Nothing to see,” Sunny said and handed Divit the loupe. She went over and flipped on the light switch on the wall. “I didn’t capture a clear picture of whoever shot that girl.” Divit leaned in close to the roll. “Don’t touch the film,” she warned.

  “I know,” he said as he examined it. After checking over it a few times, he said, “There’s nothing here.”

  “Yep. I know.”

  “You’re such a good photographer, why didn’t you get a picture of the killer?”

  “Shutter,” was all Sunny could eke out as she plopped down on her stool.

  “Yes, I’m shuddering too, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “No, Divit. Shut-ter.” She stood, walked over to him and took the loupe from him, sidling up to the hanging film, she examined the frames again. “As in shutter speed.”

  “You know I don’t understand all that photography-ese.”

  “Yes, I know, Divit. But that’s the reason. I can explain it to you if you want.”

  Divit looked at her. Her weariness evident in her eyes and her stance.

  “No. That’s okay,” Divit said. “You don’t have to explain.” He looked at t
he hanging film, and back at Sunny. “So you just left her lying there?”

  “No.” Sunny studied Divit’s face to see if he was being sarcastic, she couldn’t believe he’d ask such a question. “Of course I didn’t just leave her there. I didn’t, rather couldn’t, move her, but I called and reported it. I’m sure someone has found her by now.” She glanced down at the time on her Fitbit. There had been plenty of time since her call for it to be taken care of, she reasoned.

  “Called who?” Divit said.

  “9-1-1.”

  “I guess that was a good thing to do.” He nodded his head. “What did you tell them?”

  “About what?”

  “About what happened.”

  “I didn’t tell them anything about what happened. I just told them about the dead body. Where to find it.”

  “But,” he furrowed his brow, “you know they probably will want to speak with you at length.”

  “About what?”

  “The murder. You are a material witness.”

  “I didn’t see anything.” Sunny closed her eyes and shook her head, her hair flopping from side to side.

  “You saw the whole thing. What are you talking about?” Divit pushed her shoulder. “Stop shaking your head.”

  Sunny gave him a look that said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I hope you’re not thinking about lying to a police officer,” Divit said, a look of caution on his face. “That’s considered obstructing justice and carries with it, I’m sure, a copious amount of jail time.”

  “I don’t want to be involved.” Sunny opened her eyes, wishing she could take back witnessing what she’d seen.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Divit asked. He waved toward the pictures. “With all this stuff? Sweep it under the proverbial rug? Act as if nothing happened?”

  “No.” Sunny let out a sigh, but didn’t say anything else.

  “Well what?” Divit asked.

  Of course Sunny knew exactly what to do with those pictures and with the information she had – take it all to the police. Give them more than just the location of the body. Not be afraid to talk. But that introverted, don’t-get-involved, small town girl in her was rearing its “I’m-too-scared” head.

  “I’m just going to get rid of them,” she said, the words tumbling from her mouth.

  “Get rid of them?” Divit stifled a laugh. “They’re evidence. That would be obstructing justice.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sunny said.

  “Oh, it definitely is, and you will definitely go to jail for it.”

  “My grandfather taught me a lot about the law, and those pictures have no value. I could just testify to what I saw, and that would be more admissible than pictures that just show a blur.”

  “You are so going to jail,” Divit said again. Sunny felt like he was trying to will it in to happening. “And no amount of prayer from me, or protection from a guardian angel is going to help you.”

  “Stop,” Sunny said and rubbed her hand across her forehead. She needed to stop. Think things through, and all of Divit’s pessimism wasn’t helping. But before she could, there came another jingle from the bell over the front door.

  “I know I didn’t give anyone else a key,” she said and flapped her arms at her side. “How did someone just come in?”

  “I unlocked it when I came in. Flipped the sign to say you were open,” Divit said and shrugged. “You were here, figured you were opened for business.”

  Chapter Six

  Divit followed Sunny from the darkroom to the doorway leading to the front of the store.

  “Wow, he sure is a spiffy dresser,” Divit said and nodded toward the new arrival in approval.

  It was a man who had walked into Sunny’s shop. He looked familiar to her. Perhaps.

  Maybe.

  She tilted her head to one side. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was she knew about him, or if she knew anything about him.

  “He looks familiar,” Divit said voicing Sunny’s thoughts.

  “He does,” Sunny said then scrunched up her face. “But he’s got on jeans and a pea jacket.” She glanced at Divit. “I wouldn’t call that spiffy.” She started to walk toward the man. “He looks like he’s in the Navy.”

  “What’s wrong with your eyes?” Divit grabbed her arm. “He’s got on a suit. Steel Blue. Burberry. Millbank trim fit. Two-buttoned. Two thousand dollars, easy.”

  “You must be having second thoughts on that vow of poverty you took.” She pulled her arm away from his hand and went to greet her customer, Divit at her heels.

  “Hi,” Sunny’s said and put on a relaxed smile. “I’m Sunny, welcome to my studio. How can I help you?”

  “I have come to bear you up,” he said, his voice even and controlled.

  “What?” Sunny said, her brow furrowed. “Do what?”

  “I have been given charge over you.”

  Sunny looked at Divit, and he at her.

  “Do I know you?” Sunny asked the stranger.

  “No, but you have been made known to me.”

  The man stood erect, tall. His eyes gleaming, they seemed to sparkle, yet they seemed to look through her, not at her. She turned to see what was behind her then back to him. What did he mean, he came to bear me up? And his words, though personal, lacked passion or emotion, they seemed passive, just tolerant. Odd, his intonation neutral.

  She started to speak to him, when a familiar aroma wafted past her nose, it sent a chill down her spine. She took a large step back, running into Divit.

  “You smell that?” she whispered to Divit, pushing him out of way as she moved further back into the room.

  “Smells like incense.”

  “Smells like a flower garden,” she said, and moved behind the counter. “I smelled it earlier.”

  Sunny turned and looked at Divit. “What did he say, Divit? Before? That I have been made known to him?” She shook her head. “What does that mean?” She kept an eye on the stranger as she whispered.

  Divit shrugged. “Sounds ominous.” He frowned up his face. “Especially knowing there’s a murderer after you.”

  “There’s no murderer after me,” Sunny said through clenched teeth.

  “Then who is that?” Divit pointed to the stranger.

  “Maybe I should call the police?”

  “Is he the killer?” Divit asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sunny whispered. Divit was exasperating. “I told you I didn’t see any faces.”

  “Because if it is,” Divit continued, “we should probably start praying. You’re going to need protection.”

  “You pray,” Sunny said, pulling the phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call 9-1-1, and see if I can get some armed protection.”

  The man stepped up the counter where the pair had taken refuge. “Be mindful of thy tongue,” he said seemingly to warn, his voice low, almost in a whisper. Then he stepped back.

  Sunny let out a shriek as he spoke to her, and nearly lost her cell phone as she tossed it in the air in fright. Catching it, she blew out a breath, trying to regain her composure when the doorbell gave out a jingle and gave her another startle.

  “Ohmigosh,” Sunny said and clutched her chest. “I can’t take anymore.”

  “Good afternoon.” It was another man. This one not as indifferent looking. He had a smile on his face, and took time to wipe his feet on the black mat she had at the door.

  “Hello,” Sunny said. “Welcome to Painted Light.” She didn’t have much breath from being unnerved, and her voice came out strained. “How may I help you?”

  He was dressed in a camel hair, beige overcoat. It was unbuttoned, and she could see he had a red and blue plaid scarf around his neck that fell over his white shirt and black tie. He had on black pants, and black goulashes over his brown tie up shoes. He smiled back at her. A pleasant smile and it made Sunny smile back. “I’m looking for Leah Leibowitz,” he said.

  “I’m Leah,” she sai
d. “But I go by Sunny.”

  “Are you a photographer?” he asked.

  Sunny glanced around the room at the pictures that took up every inch of space on nearly every wall. “I am,” she said with a smile.

  “What kind of pictures do you take?” he asked.

  “Portraits, weddings, special events.”

  “Landscapes?”

  Oh, like the ones I took today?

  “Uh . . .” Sunny felt a knot rise in her throat, and her tongue seemed to thicken.

  Why did he ask her that, did he know?

  “Not. Really.” She coughed into her hand as she voiced the lie. “What kind of pictures are you looking to have taken?”

  “What time do you open?” he asked instead of answering her question. He swung around from the hip to look back at the door. “Are those your hours?” he pointed then looked back at her.

  “Yep,” she said.

  Why was he asking so many questions?

  “I started to come by earlier,” he said. “Didn’t know what time a place like this opens.”

  “Nine,” Sunny said. “Just like what’s posted on the door.”

  “You were here at nine?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “Being punctual is one of my good habits,” she said, pulling on a curl near her ear.

  “What kind of bad habits do you have, Ms. Leibowitz?” the man asked, his face showing amused curiosity.

  Divit stepped in closer to her. He grabbed at her hand discreetly, not wanting to let the man see. She pulled away, and he reached for it again. She knew just what he was thinking: This guy was the murderer.

  But how could he have found her?

  Sunny shook off the thoughts. Divit would have thought anyone that came in close proximity to her was the murderer. He was paranoid, and she wasn’t giving in to it. She glanced over at the first man that had entered. He had tucked himself into a corner and now stood listening, his interest seemingly piqued. It was the first time in the short time he’d been in her presence that she’d noticed any kind of emotion coming from him.