Page 39 of Nightshade

Tash usually had Mondays off unless it was a holiday.

“It was Eugene’s shift,” she said.

Stilwell knew that was Eugene Hester, who early on competed with Stilwell for Tash Dano’s interest and affections. Having lost the competition, Hester wasn’t one of Stilwell’s biggest fans.

“Can you call him and ask if he remembers this?” Stilwell asked.

“Sure,” Tash said. “But didn’t you just tell me to stand down?”

“Okay, okay, you got me. I’ll allow this, and then you stand down.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll call him.”

“Ask why the boat came back so quickly.”

Tash pulled her cell phone and made the call. Stilwell heard only her side of the conversation and didn’t really like how she softened her voice when talking to Hester. He wondered if she was keeping her options open or if he was just getting a glimpse into how women had to navigate the world of men. She ended the call as soon as she got the information she needed.

“He said it was just a test run following repairs that had been done,” she said. “Mr. Colbrink called it in to the tower, said he was just taking it out to the bay to open the engine up and blow out the carburetor.”

“But we can’t be sure that was Colbrink,” Stilwell said.

“It could have been the mechanic or one of the crew Mr. Colbrink hires to move the boat. He still could have called it in to the tower.”

“It didn’t look like any work had been done on the boat. He just came out from the club, unbuttoned the helm, and took off.”

“You want me to call Eugene back?”

“No, I’m just thinking out loud. Can you put the cameras back up so I can watch the boat come back? Maybe we get lucky and see a face.”

Tash brought the cameras back up and then got up from the chair so Stilwell could sit down and work the angles. Soon he was looking at theEmerald Seareturning to the harbor. Disappointment hit Stilwell on two fronts. The first was that he could clearly see that the shining steel anchor was still attached to the prow of the boat. The second was that the man at the helm was once again using the boom to hide his face, this time standing tall on the other side of the helm as the boat made its way in.

Stilwell cursed under his breath. He tracked the boat through the cameras back to the same red mooring ball. The man hooked the buoy and moored the boat, then returned on the workboat back to the embarcadero at the Black Marlin Club.

Stilwell checked his watch. The afternoon had slipped by and it was after five. He pulled his phone, hoping to catch Monty West before the end of his shift at the coroner’s office.

“Blunt-force trauma,” West said by way of greeting.

“What?” Stilwell asked.

“I figured you’d be calling me about the Jane Doe.”

“Cause of death is blunt-force trauma?”

“That’s what it says on the preliminary. Damage to the skull and cerebral cortex. Contrecoup swelling, edema, the whole works.”

“So she was dead before she hit the water.”

“That would be the case, yes. But this is all preliminary. The report will be out tomorrow.”

“Did anybody from the sheriff’s office attend?”

“Let me check.”

Stilwell heard a keyboard clicking.

“Sampedro from the SO was here,” West said.

“Okay,” Stilwell said. “Anything new on ID?”

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