Girls Like Us(7)

“It was. What Dad would have wanted, I think.”

Lee gives me a tight smile. I wonder if we should have invited him. A newly minted homicide detective, Lee was Dad’s latest partner. We mostly lost track of each other after high school. I’d heard through the grapevine that he was also living in DC, attending law school at George Washington. He was in his third year when he found out his mom had Parkinson’s disease. Moved back to the island and became a cop. Not unlike my father. Dad was a marine who managed to knock up my mom while he was home on leave. He did what he thought was right: he married her and then, when his tour was over, returned home to Suffolk County. They bought a small house with a white fence and Dad joined the SCPD. I always wondered what might have happened to Dad if my mother hadn’t gotten pregnant. My guess is he would have stayed in the military and never looked back.

Lee seems more like a lawyer than a cop. I’m surprised he made it into homicide. Homicide is a tight-knit group, clubby and exclusive. Lee seems too young and eager to command any respect with that crew. Dad rarely spoke about him, and frankly, I’d forgotten they were partners until Dorsey mentioned it last week. Anyway, it didn’t occur to me to invite Lee along and it probably should’ve. Then again, maybe Lee was relieved not to have to spend the afternoon getting wasted with a bunch of weathered, heavy-drinking cops pushing retirement age. He probably does that plenty as it is.

“Can I join you for a few?”

“Sure.”

We both sit at the wooden table on the deck. Lee locks his hands behind his head and rocks back in his chair, soaking in the view. A fishing boat glides beneath the Ponquogue Bridge and he watches it until it disappears. His knee bounces nervously beneath the table. It occurs to me that this isn’t a friendly visit. It’s too early in the morning for that, and too soon after Dad’s service.

“How long you planning to stick around town?” he asks.

“I don’t know. A few more days, anyway.”

“Bureau gave you leave?”

“Something like that.” I feel a ping of impatience. “So what’s up, Lee? I’m guessing you’re not just here to check in on me.”

Lee’s jaw tenses slightly. “Something happened early this morning, out in Shinnecock County Park. A woman walking her dog found a body. A girl, buried in the dunes.”

“That’s too bad.”

“The body was hacked up and wrapped in burlap.”

“Ah.” Our eyes meet. He doesn’t have to elaborate. The previous summer, the body of a seventeen-year-old girl was found in the Pine Barrens, a sprawling, densely wooded preserve in the center of Suffolk County. She’d been dismembered and covered in burlap. It was my father’s case. As far as I knew, he was still working it when he died.

“Same guy, you think?”

“I have to assume so. Or a copycat.”

“ID?”

“Not yet. The vic has a metal plate in her jaw, so that’s something.”

“Any recent missing persons?”

“There was a local girl who disappeared around Labor Day. Could be her, but we can’t say for sure.”

“Okay.”

“There isn’t much at the office on Pine Barrens. I know your dad kept working on it, though. I was wondering if maybe he kept his own records at home? Notebooks. Laptop. Anything.”

“He had a home office. I haven’t gone in there yet. You’re welcome to poke around if you like.”

“That’d be great. Maybe I can stop by later today or tomorrow.” He checks his watch. “I should head back to the crime scene.”

“So that’s it?”

Lee hesitates. “I was hoping I could get you to come with me. Lend a hand with the investigation.”

My shoulder begins to throb, as if to remind me what a shit state I’m in. I cover it with a hand and curl my feet up onto the chair. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got stuff to do. Howard Kidd’s coming by later with some paperwork.”

“Howie’s coming when?”

“After lunch, I think he said.”

“Come on, Nell. That’s in, like, five hours. I promise I’ll have you back in time. We sure could use the help. If this is a serial thing . . .” He shakes his head, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Why doesn’t Dorsey call in the FBI? Officially, I mean.”

“Between you and me? Because he’s about to retire and the last thing he wants is mass hysteria over a serial killer in Suffolk County.”

“Maybe a little hysteria is appropriate.”

“Maybe it is. But not on Dorsey’s watch. So no. No FBI. Just you. I’ve already asked him if you could come on as a consultant. No commitment. Just as long as you’re in town.”

“And he was okay with it?”

“He said it was fine, just be quiet about it.”

“How much do I get paid?”

It takes him a second to realize that I’m joking. He smiles, a lopsided, embarrassed grin. “Jesus, Flynn. You had me there for a sec.”

I sigh. It’s not like I have anything else going on. The thought of boxing up our house is unpleasant enough; I’d rather prowl around a crime scene instead. At least I’d have to turn my brain on again for a few hours. Make sure it still works. I drain the last of my coffee. “Shinnecock County Park East or West?”