More deeply touched by the words than Andi wanted to admit to himself, let alone his partner, he put his hand on the back of George’s. “I will cope. We just have to sort out the logistics first, because I don’t want to shift back and forth.”
“How about I take that pole over there.” George pointed to a thin but stable-looking stem of about sixteen feet that was lying close to the water. The flakes of bark peeling off the wood suggested the stem had been dead for some time now, thus probably being light enough for George to handle despite its length. It also had a conveniently pointy end, ideal to pry loose whatever Andi determined was worth the effort. He nodded, and George went to retrieve the stem, dragging it toward the grassy shore of the lake, promptly sinking ankle-deep into brackish water a few steps before he reached the lake. Cursing, George shook his left boot, the water laminating the hem of his trousers to the outline of the boot. Andi followed his partner, not caring where he stepped because they had to wade a few feet into the lake anyway. He grabbed George’s free hand, dragged him into the cold brown soup until the small ripples were lapping at the area around their knees. The lake was not only small, but also shallow, the deepest part, where the bodies lay, only marginally deeper than Andi was tall. Thanks to the murky quality of the water, though, the bodies could not be detected by simply staring at the surface. Following Andi’s directions, George positioned the stem with the tip facing toward the spot where the bodies were. Then Andi grabbed George’s shoulder, his anchor to reality, dove in, opened his senses this time in a deliberate way, looking at the corpses in search of something they could use—
Cold, wonderfully dark, flakes of skin drifting through the water, too many fish, Andi was looking for something, something, he had to focus, the mosquito larvae were hatching, coming out of their shells, their wings still wet, waiting to dry in the sun, no, that wasn’t where he should be, down, he had to go down to where the disturbance was, had to find food, no, something else, something useful, what was useful if it couldn’t be consumed or eggs planted in it, something a blob needed, Andi was a blob, a cop, those were victims, he had to—take flight, before the fish found him—NO!—down, on the corpses, he wasn’t a new mosquito, wasn’t a dragonfly larvae, he was Andi, he needed to tell George where to poke with the pointy end, the stem, Andi latched on to it, using it as an additional anchor to George’s body warmth, guiding him toward the corpses, they were bound tight, the chains digging into them obscenely because the flesh was already bloating, by now the corpses would be floating if it weren’t for the stones weighing them down, the chains were slung around their bodies, no bits of clothing loose enough to get them up, and clothes weren’t plausible anyway, cloth tended to sink, not float, Andi concentrated, found something odd on one of the bodies, out of place, even more than the chains and rocks, at least in the minds of the arthropods under the water, something that didn’t fit with what the other two bodies had, hair, all wrong, not attached to skin, but something else, Andi knew what it was, he just had to find the right word… a toupee, that was it, hopefully it would swim, he started giving George directions, using his vocal cords, yes, blobs had those, they were used for communication, much like pheromones and visuals, not as precise but they had to do, more to the left, yes, forward, the stem was a little too short, one more step into the cold water, careful, the tip ripping through bloated flesh, causing a gash on the cheek, small bits of food floating upward, the fish going after it, forward, a little farther, yes, there it was, the water had already destroyed whatever had made the piece of hair stick to the skull, now it was loose, sinking down, not floating, damn, they needed it to come up, George had to catch it with the tip, dragging it toward them, it slipped off, landed in the sediments, now it was hard to see, it took some tries until George had it again, dragging it slowly, carefully toward them, over the ground, catching rotting bits of leaves in the strands, directing it toward the shore to their right, where Andi sensed a small current of water leaving the lake, making it plausible for the toupee to have drifted there, why was that important again? He needed to take flight, find nourishment, blood, there were two warm bodies nearby, ideal before mating, laying the eggs, he had to find them, no, not him, he wasn’t them, he was Andi, he had to return to his body, taking in air through his lungs, not his trachea, there was George, touching him, anchoring him, guiding him back, Andi was back—
Andi took in a huge lungful of air, staring into George’s light brown eyes, assuring himself that, yes, this was his body, his reality, and everything was fine. The worry in George’s expression was mixed with a hint of triumph, because the toupee was caught on a small island of grass, where it was clearly visible from the trail. They waded closer to it, inspecting the piece of hair.
“I think this is our lucky day.” George pointed at the hem of the toupee, where a visible chunk of skin was attached.
“Perfect. Now we have every reason to report this. Let’s get rid of the stem and then call the police.” Andi turned toward the shore, only to be stopped by George.
“Andi. Am I mistaken or is it getting worse? Some of the things you said—about taking flight and feeding—worried me.”
Andi froze, kept his back deliberately to George. Yes, it was getting worse; it had been getting worse since the day he was born, but the speed had accelerated, his senses getting sharper, and he had problems keeping up with reinforcing his mental shields. It was nothing George could help him with, so he didn’t want to talk about it.
“It’s fine. I just have to meditate more.”
2. Water Corpses
“IT’S FINE.I just have to meditate more.”George would have loved to call BS, but the harassed expression in Andi’s eyes just before he had turned his back on George was enough to keep his mouth shut. His partner was hurting, and there was little George could do apart from being there and offering his silent support. He was glad Andi had opened up to him as much as he had. Pushing his luck by pressuring his partner would only result in Andi going all hedgehog, shutting the world—and George—out with his prickles fully extended. Not being able to help his partner grated on George’s nerves, activating a protective instinct he hadn’t known he possessed until he met Andi. Knowing he had to tone it down until Andi was in a more receptive mood, George got his cell out to take some pictures of the toupee, as well as the area surrounding it. When dealing with drowned people, placement of potential evidence was crucial, even if it was deliberate in this case. Since there was no current to speak of and no connecting body of water where the corpses could have come from, it was quite obvious they hadn’t moved a great deal. Still, it was necessary to have the chain of evidence as clear-cut as possible to gloss over the parts where they had to get creative. In the past months, George had learned a lot about ingenious report writing and the psychology of nudging a reader in a certain direction. They were skills he definitely wanted to know more about, and Andi was a true master.
Wading out of the water, the stem floating behind him, George watched as Andi talked to the operator on the phone. By the time George had gotten rid of the stem, placing it back where he had found it, Andi had ended the call.
“They’re on their way, bringing divers and everything.”
George noticed the dark circles under Andi’s eyes, a sure indicator of his level of stress. At the moment, he was just this side of still functioning normally, more like an automaton than an actual person. Gently, George guided his partner back to the trail, put the blanket from his backpack on the ground, urged Andi to sit down, and started getting out the plastic containers with the food he had prepared for their trip. It was nothing fancy, plain old sandwiches made from sourdough bread with cheese and salami, two apples, and two bottles of water. Andi wolfed the sandwich down, guzzled the water as if he had just crossed a desert before he bit into the apple with a crunching sound. It put part of George’s worries to rest, because with Andi, a healthy appetite was another positive sign of relative stability, meaning his partner was able to hold it together for the time being. George refused to think about the headache Andi would be nursing later that day.
“I wonder how they’re going to haul all the equipment here.” Andi had swallowed the bite from the apple and made a sweeping gesture with the hand holding the fruit. George looked around, the beauty of their surroundings reminding him why he had nagged Andi to go on this hike with him. Annoying mosquitoes aside, the Swamp Fox Trail was simply gorgeous, different kinds of warblers singing in the huge cypress trees growing majestically between patches of long brown grass and differently sized puddles of brackish water. The air had a clear quality to it, the scents riding on the soft breeze so much better than the stink of car exhaust and asphalt in the city. It had been a good idea to come here, at least in theory. Finding three dead bodies was not how he had envisioned their trip ending. Why couldn’t people keep the murdering and dying to the cities and leave the countryside alone for stressed-out cops to enjoy in peace? It was an unkind thought, and George mentally chastised himself for having it. It wasn’t the victims’ fault they had been killed, and it also wasn’t their fault that George was stressed. Operating in the area of tension between Andi and Chief Norris was taking its toll, the growing animosity making George wonder when Chief Norris would finally snap and go back on her word to help him once he left Charleston PD for the next step in his career. Since he hadn’t given her what she wanted—dirt on Andi—she had started acting as if he was now under suspicion as well. Luckily for him and Andi, their solving rates were at a solid 100 percent so far, so there wasn’t much she could do. Still, George would have preferred a more amicable relationship with his boss.
“I’m sure they have the right vehicles to do it.” His reaction to Andi’s comment was a little late. Andi took it in stride, one of the many things George liked about his new partner. Andi was so antisocial himself, he rarely got offended when George didn’t act within the parameters of what other people would consider polite behavior. If George hadn’t answered at all, Andi wouldn’t have started wondering if George was angry with him or if there was another problem like almost every other partner or person would have. Andi would have just put it down to George not having anything meaningful to contribute, a correct assumption on his part.
Andi finished his apple while George chewed on his sandwich, listening to the birdsong and soft gurgling of all the water surrounding them. When Andi tensed next to him, George knew their break from the job was over. It still took another ten minutes until he could hear the rumbling of the engines of whatever vehicles were used to get to this place, time he utilized to get all their belongings back into their backpacks before hanging them on the sturdy branch of a cypress right next to the trail where they weren’t likely to forget them. The first vehicle came into sight, an ATV with the emblem of the Palmetto Conservation Foundation at the front, followed by five ATVs from the Charleston PD. George hadn’t even known the PD owned ATVs, but it made sense; they lived in an area where they did come in handy. All five of them had trailers attached, four of them with open beds packed tight with all the equipment the divers needed. The fifth had a closed trailer, presumably for the bodies. On first sight, it didn’t look large enough to house all three of them, but George kept his mouth shut. Their story was about finding a toupee with bits of skin on it, which meant everybody was working on the assumption of there being one victim. He and Andi would have to be very careful regarding their reaction when the divers found three of them. With every day George worked with Andi, he understood better how very complicated it was to use hisgeschenkwithout tipping his hand.
The woman driving the ATV with the foundation emblem parked her vehicle close to where Andi and George had their picnic before she directed the other vehicles to different spots, obviously trying to keep the damage to the area to a minimum. When she was satisfied with the placement of every vehicle, she made her way over to them, followed by a tall man and Evangeline Melcourt, their coroner. Evangeline waved at them from behind the tall man, letting the woman do the introductions. She held out her hand, which was hard and warm in George’s, the hand of somebody doing manual labor on a daily basis. There were laugh lines around her glittering brownish eyes, her blond hair was in a tight braid, and her smile was open and friendly.
“Hi, I’m Roberta Ingman, you can call me Berta, and this is Forrester Payne from the Underwater Response and Swiftwater Rescue Team.” She indicated the tall African American man behind her who held out his hand to George, while Berta shook Andi’s. “I believe you know your coroner.”
George grinned. “Yes, yes we do. Hi, Berta and Forrester. I’m George Donovan from Charleston PD, and this is my partner, Andi Hayes. As he said on the phone, we were hiking this area and found a toupee with bits of skin over there at the edge of the lake.” He pointed in the direction of the lake, effectively diverting the focus from Andi, who hated nothing more than having to meet new people, to the task at hand, namely finding three corpses he and Andi supposedly didn’t know anything about yet.
“How do you want to proceed?” Forrester turned to Evangeline, who looked at Berta.
“CSI is on the way, and with water it’s important to secure the area and search for any evidence before going in. What can you tell us about this lake?”
Berta shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. As you can see, it’s not big. The deepest spot is about seven feet, and there’s no current to speak of because the water feeding it comes from several wells and smaller brooks. There is no flow; the water just trickles away into the surrounding soil. The weather during the last two weeks was good, no storms. Whoever has lost that toupee should be nearby. If the person died, that is.”
Evangeline squared her shoulders. “Fine. Forrester, could you and your divers start searching the perimeter, everything within an eight-foot radius around the lake? I leave it to your expertise how many divers you send into the lake. I could imagine searching it is difficult because it’s so murky. And please get me that toupee.”
Forrester nodded. “I’m going to send two divers in. This lake is uncharted territory, because it’s not attractive as a diving spot. We’re doing a preliminary search based on the current that has placed the toupee where it is. With any luck, we’ll find nobody.”
“Yes, let’s hope.” Evangeline didn’t look convinced. She had been working with Andi too long not to know that there was always a corpse when he called something in. Forrester and Evangeline returned to the ATVs, Forrester barking out orders while Evangeline started to prepare her own gear. Andi, George, and Berta were not needed at the moment and just tried to keep out of the way.
George made some light conversation with Berta, who was a very nice person with tons of stories about the Swamp Fox Trail, while Andi sat down on a fallen tree trunk, simply staring into nothing. George knew he was trying to shut out the images of all the arthropods who were disturbed by the vehicles and divers. When insects got agitated, it was harder for Andi to keep them out, and the kindest thing George could do for his partner in situations like these was providing him with the space he needed to concentrate on his breathing and mental shields. Berta didn’t seem to mind. She glanced at Andi once or twice but had the decency to respect the invisible wall he had erected around himself.
It only took the divers half an hour to find the corpses, Evangeline calling in another ATV when it was clear there was more than one. CSI arrived at the same time Forrester’s divers brought the first corpse out of the water, a grisly sight George could have done without. He’d always hated water corpses, their bloated bodies with the rubbery, shrunken skin and the veins shining through the flesh like ghastly roadmaps reminding him of a zombie film he’d seen as teenager. George had learned that evening that zombies were where his mind drew the line, and he’d slept with the lights on for the next six months, much to the amusement of his two older brothers. When he’d started in law enforcement, he had feared seeing corpses would trigger something, but it only happened with bodies found in water.
Andi was completely unfazed. He had once told George that because of hisgeschenk, he tended to see corpses in general as a source of nourishment. At first George had been appalled by the idea of viewing human remains as food. After working with Andi for almost half a year, he understood him better and could even see how dehumanizing the corpses helped Andi to compartmentalize the many deaths he was confronted with. And after listening to Andi describing corpses while he was actively linked to the arthropods in an area, George had started viewing them in a more pragmatic light as well. They were still humans, but only because he was human himself. Knowing there were millions of creatures who saw the very same thing in a completely different light was a sobering, humbling thought.
But water corpses were water corpses, and George had to force himself to inspect the first one, who was now put on a stretcher Evangeline had prepared. It was an elderly black man with a shock of thick white hair. He had no visible wounds on his face or body, as was often typical for water corpses because of the water dragging them over hard surfaces. The chains wound around his upper body down to his knees were weighted with stones that were attached to the chain links with small strips of leather.
