Page 19 of Water's Edge

I am losing it. “And?”

“I found a couple of light sticks about ten feet out in the water from where the body was. They were floating but they were used up. Like I said, it may not mean a thing. Could have come from anywhere. I’ve got a box of the same brand on theIntegrityfor nighttime illumination in an emergency. I just thought you should know.”

“Actually, I have a couple of questions,” I say. “Honest opinion. How do you think the body got there?”

“Had to be by boat. Why?”

“Just confirming. Another question: Deputy Davis found a symbol scratched into—”

“A rock,” he finishes for me. “I saw it.”

“Have you seen any graffiti or markings like it before?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Can’t say that I have. Maybe. Is it important?”

“Just covering bases. Would you think of a symbol like that as a cult thing?”

“Oh, I don’t know. But it’s odd finding something like that near a dead body.”

I agree.

“Thanks, Captain.”

“You bet. And, Ronnie, you did a good job out there today.”

“Thanks, Captain,” she says. Her cheeks are pink. I hand her phone back.

“You did good today,” I add.

It doesn’t thrill her as much.

I’m thinking about the light sticks. There would be no chance of fingerprints or anything else and I doubt if Captain Marvel protected them as evidence. He would have told me.

Ten

Ronnie is sitting in the visitor’s chair by my desk. Even though she isn’t a detective, she witnessed everything that I had seen today. “Find an unoccupied desk. You need to type up your report before you go home.”

“But you have a secretary. Can’t I just send the audio file of Boyd’s statement to Nan?”

I almost laugh. Nan? I’d like to see that. Actually I wouldn’t. I don’t want Nan in on the little details. Some things are not meant to be leaked. Nan is like a bucket with a hole in the bottom.

“You should type it yourself,” I say. “And don’t talk about any of this with anyone. That means you give your finished report to either me or the sheriff. No one else unless you get permission.”

Nan chimes in from around the corner. “I’ll be happy to type the statement, Ronnie.”

She has sonar-like hearing.

Nan has never offered to type anything for me. Half the time she doesn’t even tell me when I’ve had a call. Of course, I’ve never asked her to type anything because she’s the queen of gossip. “We’ve got it, Nan. Thanks.”

“Anything else?” Ronnie asks.

I’m thinking of her skill in researching on the Internet. “Start out with the date and time we got the case, when we arrived, who we talked to, and what you did at the scene. You can get our dispatch and arrival time from our dispatcher.”

I give her the number.

“But I really didn’t do much besides take Boyd’s statement,” she says.

“That’s not true. You were a big help.”

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