As Mac stood, he placed his phone back in its holder. Then he glanced around at the ground before coming back to where they waited. He exchanged a grim look with Maris before turning to Jill.
“I assume you touched the body,” he said.
She let go of Maris’s arm. “Yes. I immediately checked for a pulse.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
The nurse shook her head. “No. It was apparent that she was…beyond help.”
Maris looked at her, and then at Mac. Though she was fairly sure she didn’t want to know the answer, she felt compelled to ask, “How did she die?”
The sheriff grimaced. “It looks like some sort of spear. It went right through her.”
“Good grief,” Maris gasped.
“It looks to me like she bled out,” Jill said. “Quickly.”
“That’s what it looks like,” Mac agreed. “Nevertheless I’ve called the coroner and forensics. They’ll be here shortly.” He regarded the nurse. “Did you see anyone in the vicinity?”
She shook her head again. “No. I came down here for a walk along the water before heading back to town. Everyone else had already left. As far as I could tell, I was alone.”
He nodded. “And I was waiting in the parking lot, supposedly keeping the peace.”
Maris heard the self-recrimination in his voice. She sympathized because she felt the same. They’d both been standing not one hundred yards away, and she’d even been warned.
“There was no reason to think anything was going on down here,” Maris said. She glanced at the shadowed body. “She must not have had time to scream for help.”
“Or the sound of the surf drowned it out,” Jill said.
“Or she never saw it coming,” Mac said. He looked at the ground in their vicinity. “The sand is too dry for footprints.”
Maris saw a movement near the body. It was one of the rally flyers, rustled by the breeze. “Look,” she said, pointing to it.
“I saw that,” Mac said, looking at it. “There are a few of them in the vicinity. One in the water.” He looked toward the parking lot. “But we’ll wait for forensics to collect them.”
“They might have drifted down from above,” Jill suggested.
“It’s possible,” Mac said. “Or they could have been dropped by the murderer, or even the victim.” He grimaced again. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
For a moment the three of them only looked on in silence. Maris noted the muscles at Mac’s jaw working. Then he sighed and reached into his pocket and brought out a business card.
“If there’s anything you remember later,” he said, handing it to Jill, “no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Jill took the card. “Sure. I doubt there’ll be much, since you’ve seen what I’ve seen.”
“Thanks,” Mac said.
Jill looked at Maris. “I’m going to head back to the clinic.” She smiled a little. “But thanks for…holding my hand.”
“Any time,” Maris said. “It’s a bit of a shock, to be sure.” Even to a medical professional, Maris thought. And even to me. Cold filled the pit of her stomach, and she was glad to be well back from the crime scene.
When Jill left, Mac turned back to the body and crossed his arms over his chest. “Right under my nose,” he muttered.
Although she’d wanted to say that there was no way that either of them could have prevented the young woman’s death, she wasn’t so sure that was true.
“Under all of ours,” she said grimly.
Mac glanced back at her, and then over her shoulder. “Here’s the coroner.”
Maris didn’t bother to turn. Voight would likely not acknowledge her anyway. But as he passed them, followed by his assistant, he surprised her.
“Sherriff,” he said without pausing or looking. “Ms. Seaver.”
“Mr. Voight,” Mac said.
“Good morning,” Maris finally managed to say.
Of average build and height, the coroner appeared to be in his early fifties. His jet black hair was graying just a bit at the temples, but his high forehead was deeply wrinkled. The bright yellow of the word “CORONER” on the back of his black windbreaker glowed despite the shade of the pier. He came to an abrupt stop and signaled to his assistant to stand back. Apparently he’d seen the spear. As Mac had done, Voight looked at the ground around him. Seemingly satisfied, he moved carefully closer and crouched next to the body, in the same spot as Mac.
“Sheriff,” said a woman’s voice.
Maris turned to see the forensics crew. The older woman was in the lead, as usual. A bit on the heavy side with light brown eyes, Maris suspected that the blonde highlights she could see through the hairnet came from a bottle. Though she already wore the biohazard coverall, plastic goggles and gloves, her surgical mask dangled from her neck.
She eyed the coroner. “He really ought to wait until we’re done.” Mac started to reply, but she waved him off. “Oh believe me, I’ve tried too.”
Maris had never heard her speak so much—or perhaps had not heard her clearly. Only now did she realize that the woman had just the slightest hint of a Southern accent.
Mac must have seen Maris looking at her. “Maris Seaver,” he said, “Lucile Trahan, Crime Scene Investigator.”
“Nice to meet you,” Maris said, not offering to shake her gloved hand.
The other woman nodded as well. “I recognize you from the B&B.” She thought for a moment. “The murder of that gaming guy.”
“Right,” Maris said.
“Maris was here when the body was discovered,” the sheriff said.
The woman turned to indicate her assistant. “Sefina Kealoha, my new Forensic Technician.”
“Sefina,” Maris said. The young woman already had her mask up, but it didn’t hide her high cheekbones. Her dark, angular eyes glanced at the sheriff and Maris.
“Pleased to meet you,” Sefina said.
Despite the coverall suit, Sefina was obviously petite, even shorter than Maris.
“Come
