Page 5 of Water's Edge

“Absolutely not,” I lie.

He looks skeptical. “On TV the person to find the body is always a suspect.”

That was also true in real life.

“That’s TV, Mr. Boyd.”

“Robbie,” he says. “My name’s Robbie. I go to school at Olympic College. I’m taking criminal justice.”

“Great choice,” I tell him. “So you know how this goes. Tell me: why were you down there?”

He stuffs some of his scraggly mustache in his mouth and chews on it.

Gag.

“I heard about this place from a friend at school,” he finally says. “I don’t have to give you her name, do I?”

“No,” I say.

Not right this minute, anyway, I think. I’ll let him tell me all he knows and then I’ll get the name out of him.

“Okay,” he starts. “I was looking for a new hiking trail. I’m parked right over there.” He turns and points at the Pinto as if I hadn’t noticed it or it might have mysteriously moved. “I’m a hiker and a rock climber. I was looking for some cliffs. I’m very strong.”

“I can see that.” He looks all skin and bones in his grimy T-shirt and well-worn jeans and hiking boots.

He smiles and warms to me. Everyone does. I can charm when I need to.

“So,” he goes on, “I headed down to the bay—to the boat ramp, I mean—and I started looking for a trail.”

He stops a beat.

“This isn’t going to be on the news, is it? I’m supposed to be in class. I skipped a test and told them I was sick.”

It’s going to be in a full-length movie if you keep asking stupid questions, I think.

“I don’t think your name will come up,” I say.

He seems a little disappointed, so I pivot again. “But I can’t promise the news media won’t track you down.”

He brightens a little. That was the correct response.

“Well, I guess if I have to talk to them…”

“Finish telling your story,” I say.

“Okay, so I walk that way”—he points—“and I come to a place where I found a trail. I went into the trees and followed it a bit and that’s when I found the place.”

Ronnie interjects: “What place?”

“The rocks,” he says. “I’m a rock climber. You ever been rock climbing?”

She shakes her head.

I want to shake her for interrupting the interview.

“Mr. Boyd,” I say, “you found the body. Can you tell us about that?”

“Okay. Sorry. I just really like rock climbing.”

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