Sheriff Brannon called to her from the bank. “Sure you don’t need some help?”
“I’m good.” She tried to keep her balance as she flicked a mosquito from her eyelash. The last thing she wanted was to fall on her butt in front of a bunch of snickering deputies, but the lake bed was slippery, the waders cumbersome, and Nikki had never been known for her grace. She grabbed one of the cypress stumps and propelled herself forward.
“What do you see?” the sheriff asked.
The body bobbled as she pushed closer. “Victim is male Caucasian. Gray hair, slender build. Older man, the best I can tell.”
“Any idea how long he’s been in the water? Or who he is?”
“All I can say for certain is that the body is bloated and floating.” Meaning as the corpse had decomposed underwater, the release of gases had caused him to rise to the surface.
“Gotcha,” Tom said. “What about wounds?”
“Nothing visible. The arms and legs are still partially submerged. I can’t see much more than the back of his head and torso.” Nikki took a camera from a waterproof bag and snapped a few shots before she glanced back at the sheriff. “Let’s get him to the bank.”
The stranger rose as if intent on offering assistance. Instead, he paced back and forth for a moment before resuming his place on the log. He seemed...not exactly nervous, but on edge for some reason. Finding a dead body could do that to a person. His gaze remained fixed on the water. Was he looking at her or the corpse? Nikki wondered.
Don’t flatter yourself.
Decked out as she was in rubber waders and shapeless coveralls, hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, face red and sweaty from the heat and humidity, she was more a curiosity than an attraction. Female coroners were still something of a rarity in rural East Texas.
“I’ll need the hook,” she called.
Billy Navarro set aside his camera and extended a telescopic pole out over the water. Nikki grabbed the end and affixed one of the prongs to the victim’s belt. As two of the officers pulled, she tried to guide the body through the tangle of hydrilla and lily pads in order to minimize further damage and to preserve what might be left of any trace evidence.
Once they had him on the bank, the smell intensified in the steamy heat. One of the deputies coughed and turned his head. Another gagged. Nikki hunkered beside the body, relieved to be back on dry land as she took note of decomposition, animal predation and pruning in the deceased’s hands.
“No identification?” Tom crouched on the other side of the body and waved aside a fly.
“Not in the back pockets,” Nikki said. “Wallet may have fallen out in the water. Let’s turn him over.”
Tom motioned for help and the two officers who had manned the hook moved in to assist in rolling the victim and then backed out of the way. The water had done a number on the victim’s face. His blanched features were so distorted he could have been a complete stranger lying on the bank beneath a feathery canopy of cypress leaves. He wasn’t a stranger, though. The twinkle in the blue eyes had frosted, but the nose, the mouth, the small caduceus tattoo on the inner left wrist sent an icy shiver down Nikki’s spine. Recognition knocked her back on her heels.
Billy Navarro leaned over Tom’s shoulder. He was young and inexperienced, but he handled himself with far more poise than some of the seasoned deputies at the top of the embankment who were still struggling to keep down their last meals. “Madre de Dios. Is that who I think he is?”
Tom nodded. “Kind of hard to tell with all the bloating. Something’s been gnawing on him, too. But I’d swear on my daddy’s grave that’s Charles Nance.”
“It’s him.” Nikki touched a gloved finger to the dead man’s wrist. “I recognize the tattoo. He once told me he got it on a dare during med school. His watch usually covered it.”
Tom Brannon swore under his breath as Billy moved in for a closer look. “This is bad, Sheriff. Really bad. This man delivered me. My grandmother said I came early and my mother and I would have both died if not for Dr. Nance.” He spoke with a note of reverence and fear, as if that fragile connection might somehow cause the dead man’s misfortune to transfer to him.
“Yours isn’t the only life he saved,” Tom said. “His death will be a blow to the whole community.” He glanced up then and caught Nikki’s expression. His voice lowered. “Sorry, Nikki. I wish you hadn’t had to see him like this. You two were pretty tight, weren’t you?”
“He was like a grandfather to me,” she said numbly. “A mentor, a hero. A drill sergeant when I needed one. I wouldn’t have made it through med school without him.”
Tom nodded. “I know how you feel. He helped out a lot of people in this county. He was a hero to many of us.”
Nikki fell silent as she gulped in air. Already she could feel grief gnawing away at the shock of disbelief. Sheriff Brannon meant well, but there was no way he or anyone else could understand the depth of Nikki’s loss. Charles Nance had not only been a friend and mentor, but one of the few people in the town of Belle Pointe, Texas, to ever give her the time of day. She’d grown up a misfit and loner, a troubled girl who’d flirted with darkness and courted disaster. When Tom’s father had considered her a suspect in the disappearances of two of her classmates, Dr. Nance had stepped in and set the first Sheriff Brannon straight.
You’re barking up the wrong tree, Porter. You and I both know you’re targeting this girl and her friends solely for the
