Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(2)

“Do you know him?” Logan asked.

“No, but I feel like I’ve seen him around town.” Tessa didn’t want to touch the body until the coroner arrived. She had more experience with death investigation, but the coroner had legal charge of the body.

On Widow’s, they were lucky to have a doctor serving as coroner. Unlike a medical examiner, a coroner was not required to be a medical professional or have any training in forensic pathology. There were rural counties where the sheriff, mayor, or funeral home director held the position.

Tessa crouched to study the dead man’s hands. The skin on the palms was wrinkled, indicating the body had been submerged for over an hour. But the skin had not yet begun to break down and separate from the fingers. This process, known as maceration, occurred when a body was exposed to prolonged moisture. “He wasn’t in the water long.”

Standing at her right, Logan didn’t flinch as he viewed the body. As a former army ranger, he was well acquainted with death. “How can you tell? Wouldn’t the cold water slow decomposition?”

“Yes,” Tessa agreed, “but his face isn’t bloated. Plus if he’d been in the sea for any length of time, the fish would have been at his fingers.”

“Are his hands and face red from the cold?” Logan crouched next to her.

“No, that’s lividity. When the heart stops beating, gravity causes the blood to pool in the lowest parts of the body, resulting in this bruise-like discoloration. Submerged bodies tend to turn facedown, with their limbs hanging. So lividity is usually concentrated on the face, upper chest, hands, and feet.” Tessa pointed to the victim’s hands. “But that doesn’t quite match here. Lividity in this body is concentrated in his palms. The backs of his hands are whiter. Also, with a body that has been submerged, I wouldn’t expect to see lividity only on one side of his face. His entire face should be red.”

She rocked back on her heels and looked out over the water.

Where did you come from?

Tessa stood and began to photograph the body. As she worked, another wave lapped at the victim’s work boots. “With or without Henry, we’re going to have to move him in a few minutes.”

Logan pointed down the beach. “Henry and Kurt are here. Cate is with them.”

Tessa turned. Kurt was limping.

“What happened?” she asked Kurt.

“Twisted my knee getting off the boat.” Kurt hobbled closer. The wind gusted, and he pulled a black knit cap from his pocket and tugged it over his bald head. “I’ll be all right in a minute.”

Tessa wasn’t surprised to see her best friend since childhood—and Logan’s sister—hurrying toward them. Cate Wilde was an FBI agent currently on medical leave. She was also dating the doctor.

Cate greeted Tessa with a quick hug. “I had just stopped at Henry’s office when you called.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tessa said. Cate’s experience with the bureau could prove valuable.

Tessa turned to Kurt. “Do you recognize him?”

Kurt limped closer to the body and nodded. “That’s Jason McCoy. He’s a contractor.”

“How well do you know him?” Tessa asked. Widow’s was a tight community, and Kurt had been a deputy here forever.

Kurt scratched his gray-stubbled chin. “Well enough to avoid him when possible.”

Tessa turned and raised a brow.

“I never had to arrest him.” Kurt hooked his thumbs in his duty belt and cleared his throat. “But he was kind of an asshole.”

Tessa glanced back at the body. Kurt was easygoing. Jason McCoy must have been difficult for Kurt to not like him. She thought about the inconsistencies in lividity, and a feeling of foreboding crept over her. She shivered. “Is he married?”

“Yeah.” Kurt nodded. “But I heard his wife—second wife—left him a couple weeks ago. She’s staying with her mother. I’ll get the address. Do you want me to do the death notification?” He shifted his weight off his injured leg.

“I’ll do it,” Tessa offered.

Looking relieved, Kurt slipped out of his own backpack, unzipped it, and removed a clipboard. “I’ll start the scene log and sketches.”

Henry set his kit—a plastic tackle box—on the sand.

Tessa turned back to the body and continued to snap pictures as Henry tugged on a pair of disposable gloves. He knelt beside her to examine the body. “When I inherited the position of coroner, they told me I’d mostly see old people who died of natural causes, but this is my third unnatural death in a month.”

An artist had recently been murdered, and a few weeks before that, a set of bones had been discovered. Sadly, it seemed not even the remote island could escape crime.

Henry looked the body over carefully without moving it. Then he turned the body onto its side, bent closer, and parted the man’s hair. “He has a serious head wound.”

“He could have hit his head and fallen overboard,” Logan suggested. “Or had a heart attack and fallen overboard, hitting his head as he fell.”

Both of those scenarios were very plausible. Accidental drowning happened.

“But why would he be on a boat without a coat?” Tessa asked.

No one had an answer.

Henry lifted a small flashlight from his kit and shone it on the skull. “I can see multiple distinct indentations.”