Page 36 of In the Arms of a Hero

“From what I understand, the homeowner is the one who found the body?”

“Actually, this is one of his rental houses. The renter discovered the body when he went out for a run this morning. The idiot called the owner before calling 911. Malroney owns several rentals, and his personal residence is about half a mile south of here.” Seeing Cora lift a brow, Aaron continued, “We’ve had to deal with him before.”

She shook her head. “Lucky you.” Sarcasm dripped from the two words.

She began snapping photographs of the area and the body. She didn’t speak much as she worked, then stood and looked at them. “I know you guys are anxious to get started on this. I’ll know more once I get to the autopsy. Obviously shot, but at this point, I don’t know if he was dead before going into the water until I have a chance to take a look at his lungs.”

She signaled for two deputies standing nearby to assist in rolling the body over.

“No exit wound on the back,” Aaron noted, staring down at the jacket.

“That means I can fish the bullet out of him.” Cora nodded but continued to take pictures in silence. Finally, she stood and looked around the area. “Okay,” she called out, and the EMTs walked over with the body bag. “I’ll get him to the hospital morgue and begin the autopsy this afternoon. As soon as I know anything, I’ll give you a call.”

Once the body bag was carried to the pier, Cora walked behind the stretcher, and Aaron and Sam followed. Looking up, Aaron sighed. “Oh God. Harry’s waiting. Can’t the deputies keep him the fuck away?”

Sam looked over at Aaron and lifted a brow.

“Yeah, right,” Aaron muttered.

“I want to know what’s going on!” Harry demanded. He was still sporting the poor dye job of solid black hair that did little to hide the thin hair on top styled in an unflattering comb-over. With a hawkish nose, thin face, and wiry body, his weasel appearance was as unwelcoming as the first time they’d encountered him.

“Mr. Malroney, the investigation has just begun?—”

“Well, I’m losing money as we speak. The tenant who discovered the body is packing up to leave and says they want arefund. Of course, I’m not going to give him one. It’s not my fault a dead body washed up on the beach. Dolphin or human, I don’t care. He’s not getting a refund!”

Aaron and Sam shared a look. “We need to speak to the tenant. Until we understand more about what happened, they can’t leave.”

“Fine. Thenyoucan explain why he won’t get a refund!”

“The money situation between you and your renter is not our concern. But if you’ll lead the way to the house, we can talk to him now.”

They followed the still grumbling man to the house. “He’s in there. You can deal with him yourself. I’ve had enough of him to last me the whole month!” Harry stomped around the path toward the front.

Aaron and Sam entered through the back sliding glass door into a two-story room with expansive windows facing the bay. Once inside, Aaron turned and looked outside the windows. From the first-floor vantage point, he was unable to see the beach where the man’s body had been found. Turning around, he looked up to see a second-floor loft that would’ve had a view.

A man was walking down the stairs toward them. Tall and lanky, he had neatly styled hair and wore a long-sleeved polo shirt and khaki slacks. His expression was tight as he approached the detectives. Before Aaron had a chance to introduce themselves, the man spoke. “I’m Jon Matherson. No ‘h.’”

Aaron blinked. “I’m sorry… no ‘h’?”

“It’s just Jon with no ‘h.’ J.O.N.” He huffed. “I assumed you would want to know how to spell my name correctly.”

Sam’s jaw tightened, and Aaron forced his eyes not to roll. “Thank you. I’m Detective Bergstrom, and this is Detective Shackley. Could you please describe your movements this morning?”

“I always wake before my wife. I dressed warmly so I could take my dog for a walk on the beach.”

Aaron shot a look toward Sam, seeing his brow lower.

“Mr. Matherson, we didn’t see any paw prints on the beach in the area. There were just shoe prints.”

“Well, that’s because my dog wasn’t walking.”

Now Aaron’s brow furrowed. “But you just said you were taking your dog for a walk on the beach.”

“That’s right. I was walking and carrying my dog.”

“You were carrying your dog?” Sam pressed.

Jon threw his hands out to the side, snapping his fingers. A small, yippie dog came flying down the stairs, and Aaron's brows lifted to his forehead. He’d never spent time around a toy dog and had no idea what breed it was. The little dog raced around Jon’s feet, and he bent and scooped it up, holding it lovingly in his hands.

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