Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(31)

Senta was photographing the sand outside the fence, looking for footprints or evidence that would tell us if there had been any foul play. Page was inside the fence, photographing the body.

“Hey-a, chief,” Mykal called out. “Myra. Cold night for it.”

Since he was a vampire and couldn’t feel the cold, it was nice of him to sympathize with us mortals.

“Are these our witnesses?” I asked Page.

She glanced up, her eyes doing that bio-luminous glitter of her kind when they were in the dark and around fresh blood. “Couple from Eugene in for the Rhubarb Rally,” she said. “They’re staying at the Sand Garden and were out for a late walk.”

“I’ll go talk to them,” Myra said.

I watched her approach them. Their body language changed to one of relief. I was sure they would be happy to give statements so they could get out of the rain.

Another movement caught my eye.

Ryder stopped near the ambulance, hands tucked in coat pockets, knit beanie on his head. He stared down at Heim, his face lined with something sharp and dark. Concern. Maybe anger.

I tried to remember how well they’d known each other. Not extremely well, I thought.

He looked up, but not at me. Instead, his eyes scanned the cliffs and the hint of road weaving along it as if he were putting together a puzzle of his own.

I took another gulp of coffee, then set my cup in the sand, twisting it to dig in a little. I ducked under the fencing and paused before moving farther. “We got shots of all this?”

“In triplicate,” Page said.

I crossed the short distance to where Heim lay on his back, one arm thrown up over his head, the other by his side. He wore a flannel shirt, thermal under it, Carhartts, and waders.

In the harsh glare of the lights, I could make out no blood. His face was peaceful and relaxed into something that was almost relief. Not what I expected from a corpse.

“Head trauma?” I asked as I knelt.

Sage nodded and crouched on the other side of the body. “A couple hours old, I think.”

“Think? I thought Rossis were better pinning down these kinds of things.”

She flashed me a grin with a little fang. “We are. But I don’t think it was the head wound that killed him.”

“No?”

“I think he drowned.”

I took a moment to study her face. She was not lying.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll run labs, of course.”

“Good. Any other wounds?”

“A few nicks on his hands—hooks, wood slivers, that kind of thing.”

“His only large injury is the head wound?”

“Yes. And water in his lungs. The scrapes on his hands are common for a fisherman.”

“Have you heard anything about the Gulltoppr?”

“It was adrift, all in one piece, unmanned, just north of here.”

“Distress signal?”

She shook her head, moonlight hair swinging.

“Who found it?”

“Coast guard. They brought it in. Not sure where it is right now—in the bay, I’d guess. I heard Jean tell them to close it off and to not allow anyone to touch it until we determine the cause of death.”

“All right. Do you have a flashlight on you?”

“Hold on.” She stood. Without saying anything or making any kind of signal that I could see, she caught the flashlight Senta tossed to her.

Vampires and their intra-species mind-reading tricks.

Never play Pictionary with them.

She handed me the light. I blocked out the rain, the cold, the wind. I blocked out the sound of the ocean, the rumble of the ambulance engine and generator running the lights.

I opened my senses—eyes, ears, nose, touch—to the dead man in front of me, trying to understand his story. Trying to understand how his life had ended.

Shirt wasn’t torn; still had on the boots he always wore on the deck. No rope burns on his palms, no deep gouges to indicate he got caught in a winch line, dragged. The scratches and nicks Page mentioned really were just that.

I didn’t move his hair to inspect the wound, since I didn’t have gloves in this borrowed jacket, but I took the time to pass the flashlight slowly over every inch of his body, trusting that if there was a detail the Rossis had missed, I’d see it.

Nothing.

If I had to file my final report right now, I’d say he hit his head, fell overboard, and drowned.

“Can you smell alcohol on him?”

Page leaned in, holding her satiny white hair out of the way. Sniffed.

“I don’t think so. But other things are in the way of knowing. His heritage is bright.” Her eyes flashed blue with light again.

By heritage, she meant god power.

Yeah, that was the wild card in this. God power leaving a body could do all sorts of things to mess up the evidence and cause of death.

I’d need to handle that—handle my part in dealing with the god power that no longer had a mortal vessel to inhabit.

“Take him in,” I said. “Let me know what labs say as soon as we know. I want a full autopsy.”

“Will do, chief. If there’s anything I can do. To help with…you”—she nodded—“say the word.”

This was the first time I would have to bridge a god power. And since uncontrolled, unclaimed god power was more than happy to kill mortals and creatures alike—even the undead, like vampires—it was as much her unlife resting in my very inexperienced hands as it was the life of the mortals in the town.