“Yeah, but who the hell is the second victim?”
Sonia watched as the deputy coroner and his team carried the body from the boat to the dock. A white sheet had been draped over the gurney. Charlie’s story about the man Jones met with killing one of his own people was now far more terrifying with a body. There was a predator in town even more ruthless than Xavier Jones.
The head diver said to Trace, “We’re headed back out to see about the second possible. You coming?”
Trace looked at Sonia, and she nodded her approval. “I’m coming,” he called to the diver, then said to Sonia and Dean, “I’ll let you know as soon as we find the other body.”
“Thanks, Trace.”
The boat left, and Sonia approached the deputy coroner and introduced herself and Dean. “I need to see the victim.”
The wiry Asian man nodded and said, “I have him bagged already, but the outer bag isn’t sealed yet.” In a homicide, they locked the external body bag until the medical examiner’s office was ready to perform the autopsy; then the lock was broken and all biological and trace evidence logged.
He removed the sheet and Sonia stared at the victim through the clear plastic.
He was middle-aged with a receding hairline, skinny but with a slightly pudgy middle. Tall-six foot two at least-with muscles still defined even though the water had saturated the skin, turning it a white and pasty color in the middle, with the limbs beginning to turn green from the buildup of gas and bacteria in the body. The bicolor stage of decomp helped establish time of death: generally, if a body was discovered within thirty-six hours, plus or minus, the M.E. could closely estimate time of death. Beyond that, the TOD became an educated guess.
The bullet holes in the chest were clean from the fresh water, the edges black suggesting that the killer was only feet away from the victim.
“He’s pretty fresh,” Sonia said. “Do you have an estimated TOD?”
“I have to factor in time, weather condition, water temperature-”
“I’m thinking four to eight hours,” Sonia said. “I’ve seen enough dead bodies to know this one is new.”
“You’re probably right. Certainly less than eight hours, otherwise he’d be a lot darker. It’s always darkest before the dawn.” The coroner laughed at his morbid humor over the stages of water decomp, the two sheriff’s deputies joining in. Sonia smiled, but she wasn’t in a humorous mood. There was something bothering her about this victim, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“What are you thinking?” Dean asked quietly.
“Look at his clothes.”
The victim wore a white T-shirt under a dark blue, unzipped windbreaker, jeans, and bright-red running shoes.
“I haven’t seen a floater,” Dean admitted. “Is there something unusual? Should the current have stripped his shoes or something?”
“No, not necessarily. Maybe it’s the red shoes. They look … different.”
Dean said to the coroner, “When you get the body back, can I send an agent over to observe the autopsy and possibly help with evidence? My office has committed all resources necessary to assist the county in this investigation.”
“Sure, whatever floats your boat. I’ll let the supervising pathologist know to expect one of your people.”
Dean said to Sonia as the coroner finished bagging the body, “I’ll mention the shoes. Maybe they’re rare, only available in a specific store.”
“Yeah, but in the age of online shopping that doesn’t matter much anymore,” Sonia said, frowning. She asked the coroner, “Do you think you’ll be able to get prints off the body?”
“Good chance. He wasn’t in long enough to destroy them completely. We get his hands dried out, we can print him. You’ll have to give us a couple hours.”
“That’s fine. Thanks for your help.”
She and Dean walked back around to the front of the restaurant and into the parking lot where the crime- scene van was now parked, the techs combing the area for evidence. She motioned to the blood on the pavement near the restaurant entrance, then observed the riverbank to the southwest. “Charlie said he was hiding on the edge of the riverbank among the trees and had a clear line of sight on Jones. But the pier isn’t visible from here.”
“Depends on where he was hiding,” Dean said.
“It couldn’t have been too far, otherwise he wouldn’t have seen the second victim shot, yet at an angle where he could observe the first shooting.”
“And?”
“I think he knows damn well who killed Jones.”
“I could have told you that. That guy is dangerous.” Dean lowered his voice, brushed his hand again along her injured cheek. She resisted the urge to lean into his light caress. She wanted five minutes to just release the pent- up frustration and deep sadness that warred within her at what her mentor had become. She’d known-dammit, she had seen firsthand-Charlie’s warped sense of justice, but she had hoped he’d realize he couldn’t sacrifice honor and the law. Otherwise, he was just like the people they fought. A vigilante? Vigilantes didn’t hurt innocent people. Vigilantes didn’t let a truckload of Chinese women die because of a missing girl. He could save both if he would just be honest with her. She didn’t understand what he was doing.
“We’re getting close,” he said, brushing loose strands of her hair aside. Dean’s eyes were full of quiet compassion and potent focus. He didn’t look much different than he did the other night at the raid, except that he wore only one gun under his jacket. That he was an accountant amazed Sonia. She never imagined being attracted to a numbers cruncher, but she’d never met one who looked so … hot. That he was also smart-she’d always been attracted to the smart, athletic guys-was an added benefit; that he was so commanding in his quiet intensity had her swallowing involuntarily and averting her eyes.
She wondered what would happen if all his attention was focused solely on her.
Sonia dismissed that thought, at least for now. Maybe after this case was over, she and Dean could indulge in wild, mindless sex before he went back to Washington. She was attracted to him, and the way he was looking at her right now she knew he felt the same. She didn’t have a life designed for serious relationships, and suspected Dean didn’t either.
His fingers brushed over her lips, whether on purpose or accident Sonia didn’t know, but a hot shiver went down her spine. Suddenly she realized they were still in public. Two deputies were watching from afar. Sonia stepped back.
“I need to go,” she said.
“Do you want to see Vega now?” Dean asked.
“Yes, but let’s take a detour to the hospital. Ann is in surgery and I want to get that GPS chip and see if we can trace it. Detective Black is working on moving her to another hospital, but it’s going to be delayed until she’s stable. Even with the additional security, her attackers were ballsy enough to walk right by a uniformed officer and try to kill her. I’ll send two agents to Vega’s house to tell him we’re putting him and his wife into protective custody. We can meet up with them later this morning.”
They walked up to the road where they’d parked separately. “How’s your brother?”
“My mom called from the hospital this morning. Riley had a good night and will be released tomorrow. He’ll be off duty for two weeks, and on desk duty for at least two more. I’m sure he’s not happy about that, but I thank God he’s alive.” Her voice hitched and she mentally berated herself. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she squeezed back the tears. “Riley’s fine, I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional.”
“Because you were scared for him and didn’t have any time to think about it until now.”
She stopped at her car. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. It was a warm hug, like Riley, yet very
She hadn’t been held like this in far too long. Her relationships were brief and largely uncommitted. She didn’t have time for small romances. The hugs, the dinners, the movies. Her administrative assistant Grace joked bitingly about Sonia’s “boyfriend of the month,” and Sonia let the friendly criticism roll off her back, but in some ways she
