She hears a click from somewhere just out of her field of view. She couldn’t even turn her head to look if she dared. She lies still, closes her eyes.
“There you are,” he says.
Last night comes rushing back to her.
“I won’t tell. Please,” she begs.
“You’re right. You won’t.”
Nine
Sheriff Gray is outside, standing on the side of the building, lighting up a cigarette as I park in the lot at the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office. He takes a drag and, while exhaling, fans the smoke away. His wife disapproves of his smoking. He is overweight, eats too much greasy junk food, doesn’t exercise, and is a poster boy for bad lifestyle choices.
The sheriff spots my car and tosses the cigarette, crushing it under his shoe and kicking the tobacco around to destroy the evidence. As I approach, with Ronnie following like a duckling, his cheeks suddenly redden.
“I can stop anytime I want,” he says.
“Sure.”
“I can,” he insists. “I have.”
“I can see that.”
He diverts my attention by addressing Ronnie.
“Did you learn anything?” he asks.
I answer for her. “She was a big help, Sheriff. She took a statement from the guy who found the body.”
“Detective Carpenter said I could search his car without a warrant,” Ronnie says, looking to the sheriff for clarification. I guess she didn’t trust that I’d told her correctly.
“You don’t need a warrant if he consented,” he says. “Megan should have told you that.”
Ronnie’s face colors and she keeps it directed downward. “Uh, I meant to say she told me I could search if he gave me consent. He did and I searched.”
Liar. Liar. Blue suit on fire.
“Let’s go into my office and you can fill me in,” Sheriff Gray says as we follow him inside.
I want to keep Ronnie where I can see her. Sheriff Gray brings his office chair out into the room so we can sit in a circle. His chair’s seat is mostly duct tape.
I pull my chair out of the circle and into a corner so I can face the door. Never sit with your back to the door.
I fill him in on everything except my observations of the body. It doesn’t matter what I thought I saw, except to me. I finish and the sheriff sits for a long time, hand under his chin in thought. He gets up with a squealing of springs and pushes the duct-taped monster back behind his desk.
“So what are you going to do?” he asks.
“I’m going to type up my reports and wait for the Crime Scene, Marine Patrol, and the coroner’s reports. I’d like to attend the autopsy if possible.” I don’t really want to attend, but I want to get another look at the stretch marks. She didn’t just lose weight. A baby. Maybe. There may be a child out there somewhere that just lost its mother.
He looks at Ronnie. “Do you want to see an autopsy?”
“Sure,” she says with her mouth, but her face says no.
“Take Deputy Marsh with you. She needs the experience.”
I’ve seen my share of dead bodies and death, but I haven’t attended a post mortem. I haven’t been required to attend one yet and I am sure Ronnie hasn’t, either. I’m not sure how I feel about doing so now. I only know I need answers.
A little later Ronnie is behind me, looking over my shoulder at the screen of my laptop. I must have been so deep in thought I didn’t notice she was there. I’d forgotten that I pulled up a Google search for Marrowstone Island.
“Why are you researching the island?”
“I was thinking I’d buy it. Build a casino. Retire somewhere warm where it doesn’t rain all winter. Buy a yacht.”
She giggles. Really. “I’m not a big water person. I’ll go out on bigger boats, like your yacht. But I don’t get in the water unless it’s a hot tub or a spa.”
Of course not.
“I just want to see how Boyd was able to find the cliff. There wasn’t a path to it.”
Boyd claimed to have experience climbing, but he didn’t seem built for it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I was just reading something into his behavior at the scene. He willingly volunteered that he was a criminal justice major in college and immediately asked if he was a suspect. Why would he think that from being asked why he had gone down the cliff? It is a fact that some criminals will insert themselves into a police investigation in order to get the full effect of their kill, a second rush, information. And he was right. The person to report the crime was always the first in line to be a suspect. Then on to someone close to the victim. Spouse, significant other, friends, kids, coworkers, and the like.
I tune back in. Ronnie is saying something, and I have been only half listening.
“Do you want me to call Captain Martin and see if he’s found anything?”
She is single-minded. But I haven’t checked in with Captain Marvel, nor has he checked in with me. I guess I assume if he finds something, he will call.
“Call him.”
Ronnie already has his number punched into her phone and hits the dial button.
“Ask him his opinion on how the body got there.”
I think I already know, but he’s got more time on the water than I do. My water travel is all by ferry.
“And ask him about the all-seeing eye. See if he’s ever seen that on any other beaches before. Maybe it’s kids doing that.”
“Do you think it was left by the killer?” Ronnie asks, and I’m saved from answering when Captain Marvel answers his phone. I mouth “Speakerphone.” Ronnie taps the screen and I can hear voices in the background and then Captain Marvel says, “Ronnie. Good to hear from you.”
Oh, please. He has her number in his contacts.
“I’m at the Sheriff’s Office with Detective Carpenter on speakerphone.”
“Hi, Megan,” he says.
“Where are you, Captain?” I ask.
“Still at the scene. We’re using the Humminbird—that’s for underwater imaging—and radar to see if there’s something out here we missed. It’s slow going.”
“Oh, be careful. You have the other deputy there, don’t you?”
“Don’t you worry about me, Ronnie. Tell Detective Carpenter that I found something.”
I take the phone from Ronnie. “This is Carpenter. What do you have?”
“I don’t know if it’s important, but you said to let you know if we found anything no matter how insignificant.”
I am losing it. “And?”
“I found a couple of light sticks about ten feet out in the water from where the body was. They were floating but they were used up. Like I said, it may not mean a thing. Could have come from anywhere. I’ve got a box of the same brand on the Integrity for nighttime illumination in an emergency. I just thought you should know.”
“Actually, I have a couple of questions,” I say. “Honest opinion. How do you think the body got there?”
“Had to be by boat. Why?”
“Just confirming. Another question: Deputy Davis found a symbol scratched into—”
“A rock,” he finishes for me. “I saw it.”