Part 26 (1/2)
”When will he be back?” he asked into the mouthpiece. He looked more agitated than I'd ever seen him.
Pause. He tapped a pencil against the table, reversing from tip, to end, to tip as he slid it lengthwise through his fingers.
”Ivy Lee, I need to talk to him now. Can't you raise him somehow?”
Pause. Tap. Tap. Tap.
”No, a deputy will not do. I need Sheriff Baker.”
Long pause. Tap. Ta-The lead snapped and Sam threw the pencil into a trash basket on the far side of the kitchen.
”I don't care what he said, keep trying. Have him call me here at the island. I'll wait.”
He slammed down the receiver.
”How can both the sheriff and the coroner be out of contact?” He ran two hands through his hair.
I turned sideways on the bench, brought my feet up, and leaned against the wall. Through the years I'd learned that the best way to deal with Sam's temper was to ignore it. It came and went like a flash fire.
He got up and paced the kitchen, punching one hand into the palm of the other. ”Where the h.e.l.l is Harley?”
He looked at his watch.
”Four-ten. Terrific. In twenty minutes everyone will be here, wanting to get back to town. h.e.l.l, they're not even supposed to be here on Sat.u.r.day. This is a make-up day for bad weather.”
He kicked a piece of chalk across the room.
”I can't make them stay here. Or maybe I should? Maybe I should tell them about the body, say 'n.o.body leaves the island,' then take each suspect into the back room and grill him, like Hercule f.u.c.king Poirot!”
More pacing. Watch checking. Pacing. Finally he dropped onto the opposite bench and rested his forehead on his fists.
”Are you finished with your tantrum?”
No response.
”May I make a suggestion?”
He didn't look up.
”Here it is anyway. The body is on the island because someone doesn't want it found. Obviously they didn't count on J-7.”
I spoke to the top of his head.
”I see several possibilities. One. It was brought here by one of your employees. Two. An outsider dropped in by boat, possibly a local who knows your routine. The island is unguarded after the crews leave, right?”
He nodded without raising his head.
”Three. It could be one of the drug traffickers who cruise around these waters.”
No response.
”Aren't you a deputy wildlife officer?”
He looked up. His forehead glistened with sweat.
”Yes.”
”If you can't raise the coroner or Sheriff Baker, and you won't trust a deputy, call your wildlife buddies. They have jurisdiction offsh.o.r.e, right? Calling them won't arouse suspicion and they can get someone out here to seal off the site until you talk to the sheriff.”
He slapped the tabletop. ”Kim.”
”Whoever. Just ask them to keep it cool until you've talked with Baker. I've already told you what he's going to do.”
”Kim Waggoner works for the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources. She's helped me out in the past when I've had law enforcement problems out here. I can trust Kim.”
”Will she stay all night?” While I've never been a timid woman, holding murderers or drug dealers at bay was not a job I would want.
”No problem.” He was already dialing. ”Kim is an ex-marine.”
”She can handle intruders?”
”She eats nails for breakfast.”
Someone answered and he asked for Officer Waggoner.
”Wait till you see her,” he said, covering the mouthpiece with his hand.
By the time the staff reconvened everything had been arranged. The crew took Katy in their boat, while Sam and I stayed behind. Kim arrived shortly after five and was everything Sam had promised. She wore jungle fatigues, combat boots, and an Australian bush hat, and packed enough munitions to hunt rhino. The island would be safe.
On the drive back to the marina, Sam again asked me to do the recovery. I repeated what I'd told him earlier. Sheriff. Coroner. Jaffer.
”I'll talk to you tomorrow,” I said as he pulled up to the walkway. ”Thanks for taking us out today. I know Katy loved it.”
”No problemo.”
We watched a pelican glide over the water, then fold its wings and dive headlong into a trough. It reappeared with a fish, the afternoon light metallic on its wet scales. Then the pelican tacked and the fish dropped, a silvery missile plummeting to the sea.
”Jesus Christ. Why did they have to pick my island?” Sam sounded tired and discouraged.
I opened the car door. ”Let me know what Sheriff Baker says.”
”I will.”
”You do understand why I can't do the scene, don't you?”