Page 10 of Nightshade

He gestured toward the water in the direction of where the body was anchored.

“I understand that,” Stilwell said.

“Good,” Allen said. “We’re on the same page, then.”

Stilwell nodded and turned rather than arguing with the mayor’s conclusion. He saw that McKey remained on the dock, butTash was up on the pier and heading back to the harbormaster’s office.

“I can’t talk to you yet,” Stilwell said as he attempted to pass the reporter.

“What do you mean?” McKey said. “Is there a body down there or not?”

“I can’t say anything yet. Talk to Abbott. He can tell you what he saw. I can’t.”

“You’re letting the mayor tell you what to do?”

“No. That’s how it would be whether he was here or not. I’m following sheriff’s department procedure, and you know it.”

He left McKey there and went up the gangway to the pier. Several people were watching from the railing. Stilwell recognized most of them as locals who worked in the souvenir stalls on the pier. Word had spread quickly that there was something in the water.

He crossed Crescent and walked up Sumner to the sub. He went directly into the locker room, peeled off the wet suit, took a quick shower, and then put his work clothes and sidearm back on. His windowless office, the size of a walk-in closet, was off the bullpen, and from there he made the calls, starting with the homicide unit. It was a number he knew by heart. He didn’t recognize the voice that answered and asked to speak to the captain.

“Corum.”

“Cap, it’s Stil. We’ve got a homicide out here. A body in the harbor. Looks like a female.”

“A floater?”

“She’s thirty feet under, held down by an anchor.”

“And this is confirmed?”

“I went down, saw it myself. It’s probably been in the water four days or so, judging by the decomp. Hard to tell, though, withthe water temps in the low sixties. You need the divers and one of your teams out here.”

“Jesus Christ—on a Friday.”

“Yeah, I already got the mayor on my ass because this place is going to fill to the brim today. Murder is bad for business.”

“Okay, listen, Ahearn and Sampedro have the up. I’ve gotta send them. Are you going to play nice with them?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Then send ’em. I can hold their hands if I have to.”

That brought a long silence from Corum. Stilwell thought about the last time he had encountered Rex Ahearn. It was when he had gone into the homicide unit on a Sunday morning to clean out his desk. He was surprised to find Ahearn there and it had gotten ugly pretty quickly. And physical.

“You know, Stil, I don’t think I want you holding their hands,” Corum said. “Just point ’em in the right direction and let them do their job.”

“Well, their job is to solve the case, Cap. So good luck getting them to do that.”

“I’m not going to get into that with you, Detective Sergeant.”

Corum’s invoking his full and formal rank made Stilwell realize that he had gone a step too far. He tried to recover.

“Captain, will your people set up the recovery team and the coroner’s, or you want me to handle that?”

“No, we’ll handle it. Your job now is to protect the crime scene as best you can. We’ll take it from there.”

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