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He was also not the friendliest guy on a good day. The problem was he’d asked Mac out on a date when she first started, and she’d turned him down. He’d taken it as an insult. The truth was, she didn’t date anyone she worked with. She’d been down that road, and she was still trying to recover. It had cost her a career and her self-respect. She wasn’t eager to ever try that again.
“What are you gonna do?” she asked.
Casper gave her one of his looks that saiddon’t question me,but he said, “I want to talk to base, see how they want to handle this. I need to find out about this guy’s family.”
A bullshit answer for sure, but whatever. If he wanted to hide on the boat, that was fine with her.
They pulled up alongside several other boats, one of which was a larger cutter. “The body is on theWally,along with the guys who found it,” Casper said to them. “Someone shot Owens and then wrapped fishing wire around his neck and hung him off the anchor chain.”
She grimaced. That sounded bad. Why hang him off the anchor chain? Why not just let him float away in the water? She didn’t ask in case the answer was obvious to people who hang out on the water. Growing up in a landlocked state had its disadvantages.
“Got it,” Rutledge said. He asked Victors to drop him alongside theWallyand then went over and stood on the side.
“Good luck, ma’am,” Victors said and shot her a nice smile.
“Thanks,” she said lightly. Victors seemed like a nice guy. She figured him to be younger than her thirty-six years. Did this qualify as working together? Probably. He was too young for her anyway, but it did point out that she needed to start dating again if she was sizing up the guys at work.
She went to stand beside Rutledge. The salt spray felt good on her skin, and the smell of the ocean always made her smile. She loved the water, loved being in it. Did not love beingonit. A minute later, they were alongside theWally.
A Lieutenant Commander named Oscar Olsen welcomed them on board, and after introductions were made, he stood straight and shook his head. “This is a bad situation. One of our own dying is horrendous, but one of our own being murdered is just not acceptable.”
“Can you tell us what the situation is exactly? The details we received were sketchy at best,” Mac asked.
Olsen grimaced. “At approximately oh-ten-forty-five hours a special operations group discovered a powerboat floating, seemingly abandoned.” He pointed to the boat that was tethered to theWally. “They boarded the boat and found a small pool of blood and what looked like drugs in the storage area. Worrying for the safety of the people who were not on board, a Guardsman went into the water. He discovered Senior Chief Craig Owens dead, floating from the anchor chain. They called it in and waited for the appropriate authorities to arrive.
“We arrived and pulled Owens out of the water.” He paused. “My men have pictures of Owens in situ when you need them. The medical examiner is with the body now.”
“Okay,” Rutledge said. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate your insight. We’ll get started if that’s okay.” At Olsen’s nod, he turned to Mac. “Go over and talk to the guys who found the body, one at a time. I’ll speak with the medical examiner and join you shortly.”
She turned to Olsen. “Sir, a quick question. Where might I find the special operations team?”
He gestured with his chin to look behind her. She turned. On the far side of the deck, a group of six people lingered. They were in body armor, which should have been a dead giveaway, but she’d been so worried about being seasick, she hadn’t noticed them.
She turned to thank the lieutenant, but he was gone. Sighing, she dug her notebook and a pen out of her bag. She carried a full-sized notepad tucked into a leather portfolio. The detective that trained her back in Minneapolis insisted she carry one. Said those small notepads they used in the movies were bullshit. To be a good detective meant writing down every single word, not just the highlights. She would also normally record the interview but being out on the water with the wind blowing, it would be useless. She’d learned that one the hard way one day when she’d interviewed a young officer and the whole interview was blotted out by the sound of the wind.
Walking across the deck, it struck her how hot they must be, wearing all that gear. Why hadn’t they taken it off?
She came to a stop in front of the group who were in various poses of sitting or standing in the small bit of shade offered by the forecastle. The sun was getting higher by the minute, so the shadow was receding at a rapid rate.
“Excuse me, which one of you is in charge?”
“I am,” a man volunteered as he stepped forward. “Senior Chief Cain Maddox.”
He was tall with deep green eyes and jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wasn’t sure how that was allowed, but it wasn’t up to her to enforce uniform code. He was also good-looking in a mobster kind of way, but she was sure he knew that. “Chief Maddox, I’m Special Agent MacKenna Rankin with CGIS. I would like to interview each member of your team one at a time.”
“Okay, but could we do this as quickly as possible? It’s hot, and my people have been working their asses off.”
Wasn’t that just part of the job?“I’ll do my best. I would— “
“Dane!” Maddox called out.
A man who’d been sitting on the deck stood slowly, as if in some kind of pain. But once he straightened, he moved with ease and came to a stop in front of her. He was tall, taller than Maddox, and his brown hair was short, maybe a shade longer than regulation, but if she were being honest, it was his eyes that made her blink. An icy blue that made her think of a winter sky. He was damn fine-looking to boot. Wide, wide shoulders tapering to narrow hips. He looked even bigger thanks to all his tactical gear.
She gave him the once-over, and from the rumpled appearance of his uniform pants, he’d been in the water. Was that why Maddox brought him out first? She would have rather started with someone she chose, but it was a small thing, and she wanted no ill will with these people, at least not at this stage. If they were involved somehow, then it would be different.
“Your name?” she asked.
“Chief Petty Officer Dane Landry.”
