Page 5 of Liar's Point

“Find out if she saw anything suspicious,” Brady instructed.

“I will.”

“It looks like a suicide, but you never know. Ask her if she saw anyone else around before she found the car.”

Nicole bit her tongue. Did he think she didn’t know how to conduct an interview?

“And pin down her timing,” Brady added.

“Got it.”

She felt Emmet watching her and turned to look at him. He wore his usual leather jacket and jeans, but the hint of cologne told her he’d been on his way out somewhere when he got the call.

“Want me to go with you?” he asked.

“I’ll handle it.”

Nicole set off for the water, skirting around the glare of the portable klieg lights. In the distance, people were milling on the sand, no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about. It was the off-season, but the island still had plenty of snowbirds and full-time residents who liked to walk the beach at night, and all the first responders had caused a stir. No media yet, though, which was one bit of luck. But it wouldn’t be long. Suicide or not, a death on the beach would at least be worth a news brief in the mainland paper.

The witness sat cross-legged on the sand, her posture ramrod straight. The dark braid down her back went all the way to her waist. Her hands rested on her knees, palms up, and Nicole stopped in her tracks. Was she meditating?

Stepping closer, Nicole picked up a faint hum. She was meditating. This was a new one. Nicole didn’t know the etiquette here, but it didn’t matter. Someone was dead, and the chief was counting on her to get something useful from this witness.

“Excuse me?”

The humming stopped. The woman’s chest rose and fell. Then her head swiveled to face Nicole while the rest of her body remained stock-still.

“I’m Detective Lawson, Lost Beach PD.” She pulled the badge from her pocket and held it up. Even in the dimness, she could see the woman’s expression didn’t change. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

A slight nod.

“I understand you came upon the car and called it in?”

Another nod.

She definitely was not hysterical. She seemed unnaturally calm, like maybe she was on something. She wore black leggings, sneakers, and a gray sweatshirt that looked a hell of a lot warmer than Nicole’s thin windbreaker. She was sitting on a jacket, too, probably to protect her clothes from the wet sand.

Witness Interrogation 101: eye contact.

Nicole stepped closer and crouched down, tucking her knees under her jacket as her dress rode up.

“Cold out here, huh?” Nicole smiled.

“There’s a front coming in.”

“Do you jog out here often?”

“Three times a week. On my evenings off.”

“And where do you work?”

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I teach yoga at a studio downtown.”

“The Banyan Tree?”

She nodded.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”