Chapter 22

   At 6a.m. the crime scene team finally finished up and left for Reno. Nik Friday had just stood around staring through his sunglasses at the lake. Some of the team members had given him strange looks, but he didn’t care. Previous experience had told him when his eyes were seen, they would ask stupid things. Some of the members had asked him to move this way and that, and he obliged on those rare occasions.

   Dwayne had remained asleep below deck the entire time the team was doing their thing. Nik hadn’t even been tempted to waken the 29-year old detective. He just would have asked the team if he could help. The kid was nice, sharp at times, but he was over-enthusiastic and confused at the same time, and Nik feared it would get the lad shot someday. Not that Nik had avoided any slugs himself in his 41 years, but those shots hadn’t made their mark easily.

   While Nik took notes on what the team had found, Dwayne emerged from below. “Haven’t they gotten here yet?”

  “Been here and gone.”

  “What?!” The kid rushed up the metal stairs. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “You needed your beauty sleep. Problem is, you’re still an ugly bastard,” Nik said with a wink.

  “But I wanted to ask questions.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Did you talk to them?”

  “Some, but I noted what they did and what they found.”

   Dwayne sighed in resignation. “I can’t believe I missed them.”

  “Look, they’re actually a boring bunch, and they were even a bit pissed that we brought this damn thing into harbor. They do their evidence-collecting, look around, then leave.”

   Dwayne looked at the now-empty deck. “They took the body?”

  “No, the coroner did. He arrived right as they were wrapping up.”

  “Were there exit wounds?”

   Nik smiled, he’d been waiting for that question. “Yes, Dwayne, there were exit wounds. No, the bullets are no longer here.”

   Dwayne frowned. “Might make it hard to find them.”

  “You think?”

  “Are we gonna try?”

  “No, there are divers who can do that. We have the exact point noted.”

  “Well, we have it noted where this was found. No telling if it was moved.”

   Nik nodded. “True, but we’ll pray it wasn’t. You have any guesses yet?”

  “I don’t like guessing.”

  “Good, but give me one anyway.”

  “Ok. I think he was shot from a nearby yacht or boat.”

  “There you go. Sleep took away the idea of an armed diver, thank god.”

  “You think I’m right?”

   Nik held up his notepad. “That’s their findings. They guessed a sniper rifle from far out. No way to tell until we find the slugs.”

  “Probably a lot of shoeprints out here, too, hard to say where he was.”

  “He was most likely at the wheel, according to them.”

   Dwayne yawned. “Anything else?”

  “Oscar DeBartolo.”

  “What?”

  “That’s his name.”

  “Who’s?”

  “The victim’s.”

  “Is this thing in his name?”

  “No. Judging from the papers the team found, it belongs to a Max Faraday.”

  “Ok, Max lent Oscar the yacht, went out on another boat and killed him. Case closed.”

   Nik looked at the kid for a moment before realizing he had a weird sense of humor. He half-smiled. “Glad to have it out of your system?”

  “Yeah. Guess we should talk to Mr. Faraday. Can we eat first?”

  “You hungry?”
  “Starving.”

  “Even after being at a crime scene with blood all over?”

  “I probably won’t get steak and eggs.”

   Nik actually chuckled. The kid had his moments.