Page 4 of Liar's Point

He raked a hand over his buzz cut. “No note or anything yet. But who knows?”

“Lawson!”

She glanced up, and Brady was waving her over. She went to talk to him, and his brow furrowed as he looked her over.

“What do we have, Chief?”

“Drug OD,” he said. “There’s a bottle of pills spilled across the passenger seat.”

“All right.”

The other guys turned to look at her, and she felt their gazes moving over her bare legs.

“Any note?” she asked.

“Not that we know of. We don’t have her electronics yet.”

So, it was a woman. Nicole turned to check out the car again, where Miranda was still taking photographs. Emmet knelt beside the door now, shining his flashlight inside the vehicle. He glanced over and caught Nicole’s eye.

“I need you to interview the witness.”

She turned back to Brady. The chief wore his typical weekend attire of a barn jacket over a flannel shirt and jeans. He’d been off duty, too, but it didn’t look like he and his wife of thirty-plus years had been out celebrating.

“We tried to get her statement already, but she was pretty hysterical. Having some kind of panic attack, she said.”

“ ‘We’?”

“Owen was the first one here.”

She looked at Owen, who had stepped away from the group to talk on his phone. He stood in the shadows with his back to everyone, as though he wanted privacy.

So, Owen Breda hadn’t been able to get a statement from the witness. Not exactly typical. Owen was one of their best detectives, and his easygoing charm put people at ease, particularly women.

“Where is she now?” Nicole asked.

“Over there.” Brady nodded toward the water.

Nicole turned and suddenly noticed the figure seated on the sand about thirty yards away. The person was little more than a shadow, really—just a dark silhouette sitting still as a statue.

“What’s she doing?” Nicole asked.

“No idea,” Brady said. “Woman’s a space cadet. We couldn’t even get an address out of her.”

In Brady’s book, a “space cadet” could mean someone who was high or flaky or habitually out of it, for whatever reason.

Nicole looked at the woman again. “Is she local?”

“She works at the Banyan Tree.”

Nicole turned to see Emmet walking over. “You interviewed her?”

“As much as I could.” He stopped and gazed down at her, hands on hips as he took in her little black dress. “She kept having breathing issues.”

“Does she need a paramedic?”

“I tried. She didn’t want one. Said she just needed some space.”

Nicole looked at the woman again, then back at the chief. “I’ll go talk to her,” she said, zipping her jacket.

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