Legs in motion, I quickly join my peers. The medical examiner’s team brushes by me, hefting a body board toward the rocks.
Andrews fists his hands on his hips. “Tide’s coming back in. Anything else you need before they move her off the rocks? Last chance.”
“Nothing there other than her body, and it’s been well photographed.” I cross my arms at my chest. “She looks like the vic from the Skinner Street home invasion.”
McBride flashes his phone at Andrews. “Gonna show this pic to Hemsley since he’s the one who interviewed her and her husband.”
Andrews frowns at the picture, then edges out of the tent. “Let’s go see him.”
As we march down the beach, I nudge my partner’s elbow. “What did the ME say?”
“No defensive wounds or visible injuries that he can see from here. Other than the throat laceration, which is likely the cause of death. He was certain she washed up on the rocks, rather than someone dumping her body there.”
“That aligns with my thoughts,” I muse. “We’re looking for someone with access to a boat. I gotta say, I’m surprised they didn’t weigh her down with bricks.”
“These kids today,” Andrews tosses flippantly. “Always cutting corners.”
Despite the grim situation, that gets a soft chuckle out of me.
Luke pipes in. “What about time of death?”
“He won’t know until he gets her to the morgue and can do a deeper analysis.”
I fan out my empty palm. “Not even anestimate?”
“Dammit. Fucking east coast beaches are the worst.” Andrews curses under his breath as he sinks deeper into the sand and crushed shells with each step. “No estimate. He was rambling about checking tidal history and evaluating the pink stains on her shirt to see how much time the blood had to set in before she hit the water. Then he needs to measure fluid in the lungs, and blah, blah, blah. All in all, he wasn’t comfortable guessing.”
I offer my two cents. “She couldn’t have been floating for very long. No shark bites. Not even her blood drew them to her. And there was very little decomposition. Once we confirm heridentity, we’ll get a better idea of timing based on when she was last seen.”
McBride grouses from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t want to be the one to tell her husband. I hate that shit.”
With a hearty eye roll, Andrews quips, “Only sociopaths enjoy doing that. We can always send a uniformed officer.”
Miffed at his out-of-character suggestion, I glower at my mentor. “It’s that kind of behavior that makes local law enforcement hate us. They aren’t our little bitches.”
“It was a joke.”
The chatter fiddles out as we approach the second scene. Aside from the crashing waves, the only other sound is our huffing and puffing from trudging through the sand.
Hemsley meets us a few feet from the body. “Fancy a swim, guys? Got the ocean right there. Did you bring your water wings?”
Everybody’s a fucking comedian today. At least Andrews’ little one-liner was humorous.
Once Grant sees his joke fell flat on its face, he shapeshifts back into an adult. Or better yet, a federal fucking agent at a double murder scene.
“Anything helpful at the other body?” he asks, his eyes swiping from left to right.
McBride shoves his phone at Hemsley. “Recognize her? Hayes thinks she’s the one from the Skinner Street job.”
He squints at the picture on Luke’s phone, then offers a solemn confirmation. “Yeah. That’s Emma Jones.” He shakes his head, cursing through gritted teeth. “Fuck. That makes two dead casino dealers today.”
I peer around him, noticing that the second victim is wearing the same black-and-white dealer’s uniform. However, she’s face down, unlike the victim on the rocks. “Do we know this one?” I ask.
Hemsley gestures for us to follow him toward the body. “Her name was Sophie. She worked on the Sunset casino cruise, just like Emma down there. Oddly, Sophie isn’t one of the dealers the casino identified as potentially compromised.”
Taking a knee in the sand, McBride angles his head for a better view of the victim’s neck. “DB on the rocks didn’t have identification on her. Yet this one does? Seem fishy to y’all? Sorry ‘bout the pun.”
In an emotionless tone, Grant explains, “No ID on this one either. We briefly rolled her over, and she still has her name tag on.”
