Page 34 of Water's Edge

Ronnie hands him her notebook and he writes it down.

“There,” he spits out. “Is that all? Can I get back to work?”

“Sure,” I say. “After my deputy gets some images of your tire treads.”

He makes a face, and Ronnie does as she’s asked.

When he drives away, she takes more photos of the tire tracks in the damp earth.

I call Sheriff Gray with the update. Ronnie gives me the exact GPS coordinates from her phone, and I pass them on. I ask the sheriff to send another deputy to Joe Bohleber’s house to get the rental agreement. I ask if he will run criminal records on Leann Truitt and Jim Truitt. He agrees but he sounds a little hesitant. I give him Joe Bohleber’s date of birth and tell him about the twin thing with Steve.

Next I call Joe.

“I thought we were done,” he says.

“Not yet,” I say. “I’ve got a deputy coming to your address to pick up the rental agreement. He’ll write you a receipt for it.”

“I wasn’t planning on going home.”

“Sorry,” I say, although I don’t mean it at all. “A deputy is already on his way and you’ve been so cooperative.”

“I’ll be at home,” he says finally. “But I ain’t waiting long.”

I end the call, and Ronnie and I cordon off a large area around the cabin with yellow-and-black crime scene tape while we wait for Deputies Davis and Copsey to arrive. It’s a surprisingly short wait, which is good. The deputies widen the perimeter with another roll of tape.

Mindy Newsom’s white van rolls in just then. The name of her flower shop is on the sides, but she isn’t there delivering flowers. She has been my friend since I arrived in Port Townsend. She had just graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in forensic science and was new to the Sheriff’s Office when I started there. Sheriff Gray even converted an old conference room into a lab for her. Just when she was certified by the state as a criminalist, the job became part-time. Very part-time. Jefferson County didn’t seem to need her skills on a regular basis. She left, got married to a mill manager, and had a baby. While she was on family leave, she opened a flower shop downtown.

“Is this the only way we get to see each other?” she asks, coming right for me.

I give her a hug. I’m not that close to other women. Not really close to anyone. Mindy is fun, smart. She makes me laugh too. If I had a sister, I would want her to be just like Mindy.

But I don’t. I barely have a brother.

“Sheriff says this is related to the body you found yesterday,” she says, surveying the scene.

“I’ve got her identified by two people from her crime scene photo,” I say. “It will be good if you can get a match some other way. Is the sheriff coming?”

“He just said you needed me.” Mindy opens a side door to the van and pulls out white coveralls. “Are you coming inside?”

Ronnie comes over and I make the introductions.

“I’d like to go in,” she says, and Mindy and I exchange looks.

“Suit up,” I tell her. “But do exactly as Mindy tells you. Don’t touch anything. And stay right behind her.”

Ronnie gives a comical little salute.

I shake my head and it passes through my mind that if I had a sister, I would not want her to be like Ronnie.

Mindy gives her a set of Tyvek coveralls, booties, and a mask.

While Ronnie dresses, I show Mindy a couple of the crime scene photos from the cove and a good face shot from the morning’s autopsy.

It’s a face that no longer belongs to Jane Snow.

Leann is her name.

I sit on the hood of the Taurus and read the documents in the file folder while Mindy and Ronnie enter the cabin. Now I have a name and an address, or at least a GPS fix. I have the landlord, who in my book, was a little cold. I have the hiker, Boyd, who found the body. I have a statement from Cass at the Nordland General Store concerning the victim’s habits, and she did have habits. She shopped at the general store every Sunday for groceries. Like clockwork.

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