Page 59 of Water's Edge

“I guess you didn’t detain him,” Larry asks.

It comes across as a dig. I understand: What if I had the killer and let him leave? I should have taken the statement myself.

Clay reads my expression.

“No way you could have known he was lying about who he was,” he says. “Some of these fake IDs are damn good. Jimmy told me last year that someone on campus was making and selling them.”

My face feels warm. Probably red too. I should have caught that. I am a veritable expert at procuring fake driver’s licenses, bogus birth certificates, made-up business cards, anything one would need to disappear or become someone else.

I’ve done it many, many times.

Clay gets Jimmy on the phone. He puts it on speakerphone and tells him who’s in the room.

“What can I do for you, Clay?” Jimmy asks.

“You remember that clown I asked about? Robbie Boyd?”

“Aloysius? Yeah.”

“The guy we’re looking for is a white guy—” he says, interrupting himself as he catches my eye. “Wait a minute. I’ll have Detective Carpenter give you a description.”

I offer up a complete description and he repeats it back to me. I also provide the license plate of the car.

“You got all that, Jimmy?” Clay asks.

“What?” he asks, his tone suddenly more playful. “You think I’m just here for my good looks?”

“Nah,” Clay says. “If you were there for your looks, they would have fired you by now.”

“What do you want me to do if I find him?”

“Hold him and call me.”

“Arrest?” Jimmy asks. “Or just detain?”

“Break his legs,” Clay snaps back. “I don’t care. Just call me.”

“Okay,” he says right away. “You don’t have to get sore. I’ll call you.”

Clay returns the phone to its cradle. “Jimmy’s a good security cop but he’s not a hard worker, if you catch my drift.”

That’s what worries me.

“Will he look for Boyd?” I finally ask.

Clay gives it a little thought, leaning back in his chair. “He will. But not too hard. He used to be with Kitsap Sheriff’s. He got passed up for a detective position and pulled the pin, quit and went on to work for Port Townsend PD and on to be a campus cop. He says he’s happy doing his shift and working off duty. I guess to each his own.”

“My gal, Margie Benton, was hard to get to,” Larry says, speaking up. “She was hung up on some rocks on San Juan Island. Almost in Canadian waters. You could see D’Arcy Island from where she was found.”

Larry starts digging through the accordion folder.

“I got some shots from the scene, but go ahead.”

“My victim was wearing a bra and panties,” I say. “We didn’t find any other clothing.”

I look over at Clay.

Larry is still digging.

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