“I don’t know. I-” Her communicator beeped. “Oh God, oh God.” She bore down. “Block video,” she ordered. “Dallas.”
Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve…
She shoved her arms into the sleeves of the coat as she was ordered to Sarah Child. She responded as she strode out to the car.
And she felt Roarke watching her from their bedroom window as she drove away to do the job.
Eve stood over the body of Reed Williams and blocked out everything but the work. She knew Eric Dawson-who’d found Williams floating and had jumped in to try to save him-was currently in the locker room with a uniform.
The med-techs who responded had fought to revive him, even after Dawson’s attempts, then Nurse Brennan’s, as CPR had failed.
So her crime scene and the body had been severely compromised. And Reed Williams was still very dead.
She crouched down, examined the bruise and shallow laceration along his jaw. Otherwise, from her exam, his body was unmarked. He was wearing black swim trunks, and a pair of blue-lens minigoggles floated in the pool.
As Peabody hadn’t yet arrived on scene, she turned the body herself to study the back, the legs, the shoulders.
“No visible trauma other than the jawline, some superficial scratches consistent with being pulled out of the pool on the back. No sign of struggle. She rose, began to walk around the pool. “No visible blood. Might’ve been blood, and it was washed away.” Frowning, she looked around for a weapon that might have caused the wound on the jaw.
“Vic stands near the pool. Somebody strikes out, vic falls back into the water. Lost consciousness and drowns? Maybe, maybe, but the bruise isn’t that severe. But maybe.”
She kept walking, and studied the edge of the pool. Walked back, hunkered down again, and used microgoggles and a penlight to get a better look at the wound. “Flat. More a scrape than a cut. In the water already maybe. Yeah, it’s the right angle, isn’t it? Vic’s taking his swim, gets to the wall, holds onto the edge for a minute. That’s what you do. Slips, loses his grip, knocks his chin on the skirting. But why? Just clumsiness? Didn’t strike me as a clumsy guy. And does that knock end up drowning him? Or did he have help?”
She went back to the body, shook her head. “There’s no skin under his nails. No sealant, no nothing. Clean as a damn whistle. What do you do if somebody holds your head under? You fight, you scratch. And if I’m standing on the skirt of the pool holding some guy under-for instance, a strong guy, a guy who works out regularly-I’m probably going to give his head a good thump against the wall for insurance. Easy to mistake a head knock for accidental.”
Frowning again, she began to search, to feel the back of Williams’s head. No bump, no laceration, no trauma.
Looked simple, looked easy. Looked accidental.
And she thought: No fucking way.
“Bag and tag him,” Eve ordered and straightened. “ME to determine. Priority request for Morris. I want the sweepers to go over the edging. I’m looking for blood or skin.”
She moved off, into the locker room where Dawson sat in a baggy sweatsuit drinking hot coffee. “Officer.” Eve nodded to the uniform. “Detective Peabody should be arriving momentarily. Direct her here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Dawson.”
“He was floating.” Dawson’s hands began to shake a little. “He was floating. I thought at first he was just…just floating, the way you do. Then I saw he wasn’t.”
“Mr. Dawson, I’m going to record this. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Mr. Williams was already in the pool when you came in to the area?”
“Yes, he was…” He drew a long breath, set the coffee cup aside. “Actually, I was looking for him. I’d seen Arnette-Principal Mosebly, and she asked if I would take Reed’s fourth-period class today-that’s my study period. She told me he’d been suspended and she was going to initiate termination proceedings, unless he resigned within the next twenty-four hours. I felt terrible about it.”
“You were friendly with Mr. Williams?”
“We all got along here. We were all friendly, there was never any trouble here. Until…Oh, God.” He dropped his head again, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I agreed to monitor the class, but asked if I could speak with him, to get some idea of his lesson plan. I don’t know.”
He braced his head, hair still damp, in his hand. “She said she assumed he was cleaning out his lockers. I glanced in the lounge, but he wasn’t there, so I went into the fitness center. His locker was still activated, but he wasn’t on the machines. I just stepped into the pool area, to see…”
“What did you see?”
“He was floating, facedown. At first, I…I thought-I maybe said, ‘Damn, Reed, this is a damn mess.’ He kept floating, and I realized…I jumped in. You’re supposed to grab a flotation, but I didn’t think. I just jumped, and I turned him over, towed him to the side. I got him out. I had to get out first, then haul him out. I did mouth-to-mouth, CPR. We’re all required to know how to do that. I don’t know how long, but he wasn’t breathing. I hit the intercom, called Carin-Nurse Brennan. I told her to call nine-one-one and to come to the pool.”
“Which she did.”
“Yes. She came right away. She tried, when she got here, she tried. Then the MTs tried. But they said he was gone.”
“Where are your shoes?”
“Shoes?” He looked down at his bare feet. “I forgot shoes. I had my work clothes on when I went into the pool. The police officer said it was all right for me to change. I forgot to put my skids on, I guess. Maybe if I’d gotten there sooner, just a minute or two sooner. If I hadn’t looked in the lounge first.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Dawson. I think you did all you could.”
“I hope I did. I nearly drowned once, when I was ten. My family always went to the Jersey shore in August. I went out too far, and I couldn’t get back. The waves just kept pushing me farther out, and I couldn’t stay up. My father pulled me back. He got to me and pulled me all the way back to shore. Blistered my ears for swimming out that far, then he cried. Just sat down and cried. I never forgot it, or how scared I was. It’s a scary way to die.”
“Yeah, but mostly they all are.”
She questioned him further, but if he’d been responsible for Williams’s death instead of traumatized by it, she’d eat her badge.
She released him, then accessed Williams’s locker for another search. One of his good suits, she noted, with shirt and tie, dress shoes. So he’d been planning to dude up for the day. Didn’t sound like resignation time to her.
Could have had another appointment, she mused. She searched through his toiletry bag, found nothing out of line. Then hauled out his briefcase as she heard the sturdy strides of Peabody’s winter boots.
“Williams is our DB,” Eve said without looking over. “Found floating facedown in the pool, past reviving. Bruised and scraped on the jaw, could be he got clocked, but it looks to me as if he rapped himself on the edge of the pool. Some scrapes on the back consistent with being pulled out. No other visible trauma.”
“So it looks accidental.”
“Looks like. Isn’t, or I’m a dancing monkey. We’ll want to go through this disc, but by the looks of his briefcase, it appears he was set to resume his teacherly duties today.” Now she looked over at Peabody. “Wit statement claims Williams was suspended, and termination proceedings were set to begin if he didn’t resign within twenty-four.”
“But he comes in, uses the school facilities.” Peabody poked her head into the locker. “And from all appearances was going to tough it out. Who’d he see this morning?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out, but my money’s on Mosebly.”
They tracked the principal down in her office, easily cutting through the admin who sat bleary-eyed and sniffling. Mosebly paced the room as she spoke on an earpiece. She held up a hand, signaling Eve and Peabody to wait.