Page 26 of Light of Day
Heather’s facewent so white Luke was afraid she might crumple to the ground. Instead, she nodded and ran to the passenger side of his truck. He followed suit and a moment later they were speeding down the road toward the east side of the island. He debated putting the flasher on the roof of his truck, but it didn’t seem necessary. Arriving on the scene a few moments earlier wouldn’t make much difference. A dead body couldn’t be saved.
As he drove, he put his phone on speaker so he could call Dr. Olson, the only full-time doctor on the island. He’d be able to determine how long the victim had been deceased. Luke’s own training in forensics was pretty minimal.
Seaweed Cove was on the northeast end of the island. It faced the ocean, so every time a storm hit, it filled up with seaweed—hence its name. At low tide, kids loved to walk barefoot in its muddy bottom. He himself had spent many happy hours pulling one foot, then the other from the muck, laughing at the fart sound it made. He didn’t remember ever seeing Heather there. Her mother probably hadn’t brought her to the east side to play very often.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She didn’t answer, probably because it was a dumb question. Of course she wasn’t okay. Her hands were clutched into tight fists in her lap, and she seemed lost in the world of her own thoughts.
“I can take you home if?—”
“No. I’m coming with you. If it’s okay,” she added quickly. “I won’t interfere with anything.”
“It’s fine. You might be helpful with…” He trailed off, since the idea of her identifying her dead friend seemed too harsh to express out loud at this point. They didn’t know whose body was in Seaweed Cove, although adding one and one together—a missing person, a body discovered—he thought the chances that Gabby had just been found were pretty good.
When he noticed a tear glistening on Heather’s cheek, he knew she was thinking the same thing.
“I should have listened to her!” she burst out. “I let her come out here alone instead of having her back. What is wrong with me?”
He opened his mouth to answer—not having the remotest idea of what to say—but she forestalled him.
“This is my problem, this is what I do. I don’t like myself when I’m here, so I do everything I can to stay away from this place. I let Gabby down because of my own issues.”
“I don’t think?—”
“Stay out of this. This is between me and…me.”
He smothered a laugh, which would absolutely be the most inappropriate reaction in this moment. If she wanted to beat herself up over something that might have nothing to do with her, that was her choice. He had a job to do.
At Seaweed Cove, he spotted the victim right away. The body was tangled in a long string of kelp that had caught on the rocks at the far point of the cove. All that could be seen of it was dark, wet clothing. Nothing identifiable was above the surface.
A young woman in a gauzy white dress sat on the rocks a few yards away, her arms wrapped around her knees. He didn’t recognize her, so she must be the hotel guest who had found the body. With her was Tommy Gonzales, the head groundskeeper at the hotel. Luke was relieved to see that no one else had gathered to see what the fuss was about. With the tide halfway out, any morning swimmers had already left.
“Why don’t you wait here,” he began, but Heather was already jumping out of the truck. He pulled on his fishing boots, then hurried to catch up with her. “Let me go first,” he said firmly. He didn’t need her slipping on the rocks while she scrambled to get close to the body.
“I know,” she said, sounding irritated, which he figured was better than traumatized.
“Hiya, Luke,” Ernie greeted him. “Thanks for coming so quick. This is Charlotte DeLuca, she spotted the body when she was out for her morning walk.”
“Hi Charlotte. Sorry you went through that.” He shaded his eyes against the sun, squinting to see if he could make out anything about the body from here. But no.
“Are they okay, do you think? I’ve been sending white light towards her ever since I first saw her.”
“Her? Were you able to see a face?”
“It’s just a feeling. But I’m very intuitive.”
He spared a quick glance for Heather, who looked stricken. Part of him wished he could put his arms around her and let her cry it out on his chest. But he set that wish aside and put on his rubber gloves.
It took long minutes for him to pick his way across the slick rocks, newly exposed by the receding tide. Rocks with barnacles had more traction, so he used those to anchor his steps. The closer he got to the dead person, the stronger the stench of death—whether of fish or human, it was hard to say.
The body moved slightly with each lap of the waves against the shoreline. Bobbing up, then down. If not for the rope of kelp caught between two rocks, it would probably be out to sea by now. The person had been tall, he could see, and wore a dark rain jacket, either black or so water-soaked that it looked black. He didn’t know how tall Gabby was. He should have asked Heather. Why hadn’t he? Did Gabby own a black rain jacket?
He was knee-deep in water, one foot wedged between the rocks, the other sinking into the muddy bottom, when he was finally able to put a gloved hand on the body. He freed the kelp rope from the rocks and used it to steer the victim farther into the ocean, where he could maneuver the body more easily.
Steeling himself, he tugged the corpse headfirst toward him. Even floating free, it was heavy, but it was hard to tell how much of that weight was from the kelp still wrapped around it. Gingerly, he slipped the hood of the jacket away from the victim’s head, which was?—
Mostly bald. This was a man. Not Gabby. A bald, dead, white man.
