Page 15 of The Mermaid Murder

“Like I said, I know it exists.”

“Seems something like that would’ve come up in conversation.”

“Seems like you should be talking to Zig.”

“Oh, I will be. But right now, I’m talking to you.”

Misty pulled out her phone, tapped the screen and turned it toward her. Her background was a shot of Jeremy and Uncle Mason, both in their dress uniforms at Jere’s graduation from the academy. “So, should I call my uncle the cop, or my boyfriend the cop?”

“I don’t care. You and Zig, you’re stirring up trouble with this podcast. You know that?”

“No, I don’t know that. What kind of trouble?”

“Fifty calls a day to the department, lunatics leaving bullshit on the tip-line, novel-length letters with theories from alien abduction to witness relocation, and the widower asking me why some college kid is working harder on his wife’s case than I am.”

“Than you, personally?”

“Yeah, me, personally. It was my goddamn case.”

Misty already knew that. She and Zig had read every article published about the investigation into Eva Quaid’s disappearance. Misty had helped Zig upload images of every piece to the Zig-Tales site. Detective Jen Scott had been quoted all over them.

“I don’t know anything about the podcast,” she said again, because Detective Scott was doing that long, awkward silence thing that could make shit birds sing like canaries. That was an Aunt Rachel quote, right there. “You should talk to Zig.”

“You’re helping her. That’s what you were doing in the boss’s office, wasn’t it? Snooping for filler for your podcast? Maybe Eva Quaid’s employee records, something like that?”

“I popped in to talk to Mr. Mackey. Door was open. I stepped in, saw he wasn’t turned around to leave and bumped into you.”

“Got you,” she said. “And there he is now.”

As if Misty hadn’t also heard bathroom door swing open or the sound of a still-running air-dryer.

Detective Scott turned. “Hello, Earl.”

“Jen. What brings you by?”

She looked at Misty. “Didn’t you want him for something?”

“Yeah, um, the locker room’s chilly AF. The team’s asking if you can turn up the heat.”

He looked from one of them to the other as if he knew something was up, but instead of saying more, he moved between them into his office, behind the desk, took a key from the top left drawer, and then brought it out and handed it to Misty. “Here’s the key to the control panel. Nobody touches it but Coach Hannah. Bring it back when she’s done.”

“Thanks. Nice meeting you, Detective Scott.”

“I’ll be in touch,” she said, and then she walked into Mackey’s office and closed the door behind her.

Misty knew damn well she’d already pushed her luck too far, but she pushed it further anyway, and pressed her ear up against the door.

“You aware of this mermaid podcast?” Jen Scott asked.

“Oh, I’m aware.”

“It’s making the department look bad.”

“You mean it’s making you look bad,” Mackey said, but in a sympathetic tone.

There was a heavy sigh. “Chief wants closure on this. My ass is on the line.”

“Nobody blames you.”

---