He didn’t think the forensic team would find any other physical clues.

Whoever had left the bones, whoever had arranged the bones, had done it with clinical care.

It was a taunt, that skeleton. And since Will was the only cop in town, the person raking up old horrors, it was difficult to believe the taunt wasn’t aimed at him. But that was no longer important. “Are you sure?” he asked Anahera.

“Yes.” Her voice almost swept away by the wind, she added, “I’m watching over her. When can you get here?”

Will stared at the skeleton. He couldn’t leave it, not until another officer got to Golden Cove. The chance of someone disturbing the site was too great. “I need you to keep on watching over her,” he said, his hand fisting by his side. “I’ve got someone else here who I can’t leave.”

“Just tell me -this—-is it someone I know?”

The news would be out soon enough and Anahera wasn’t a woman who spilled secrets. “Skeletal remains,” he told her. “I can’t risk anyone moving the bones.”

“-Skeletal…” Another harsh wind, ripping away her words.

But Will had heard the last word she’d said: hiker. It was the same thing he’d thought the instant he’d seen the bones. It could well be one of the three women who’d disappeared fifteen years ago and never been found.

He called the district commander again.

It took an excruciating two hours for the first forensic team to arrive. Will had spoken with Anahera several times, both of them caught in their separate hells and unable to move. He’d considered sending someone else out -there—-there wouldn’t be a crime scene to contaminate, not if Miriama had come out of the -sea—-but Anahera had said no.

“Miri shouldn’t be seen like this,” she’d said. “She deserves for us to take care of her.”

As he’d expected, the forensic crew was accompanied by two detectives. “Will.” The older one of the two couldn’t quite meet his gaze, the wrinkles in his brown skin deeper than the last time Will had spoken to him but his body in excellent shape. “I’m afraid we’ve been assigned the case.”

“Robert.” Will shook his hand. “Keep me in the loop, won’t you? I’ve picked up more than a bit of knowledge about this town that might be helpful.” He wasn’t used to justifying his need for information, but he needed his fellow detective’s cooperation if he was to have access to the reports.

Openly relieved at Will’s lack of rancor, Robert immediately agreed to copy him in on any results. “I hear you’ve got a second scene?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Will nodded. “I’m heading out to keep it under surveillance until the second forensic team arrives.” He’d argued hard for the first team to go to Miriama’s body, aware it was decomposing quickly with every second that passed, but those in charge had overruled him. In their view, while she’d died more recently, the body of a drowning victim wasn’t going to hold anywhere near the forensic evidence that might be discovered on a skeleton that had been laid out for someone to find.

In their minds, it was tragic accident versus pathological murder.

“This Shane Hennessey fella.” Robert shot a look over at where Shane still sat on the crate, his head cradled in his hands. “He a likely?”

“My gut says -no—-he threw up halfway into the wait.” Shane had been desperate to get out, go home, but Will hadn’t been able to let him leave.

“Yeah,” Robert murmured, “whoever laid out these bones had to have ice for blood. Jesus, the bones are lined up as if he used a ruler.”

“Shane’s a novelist, says he walks this trail in the early morning when he wants to think.” Will wanted to pass on the information, then leave, get to Anahera. “No indications of any violent tendencies and no record in either New Zealand or Ireland.” That information Will had discovered during his initial run on all possible suspects in the Cove. “Shane’s mentored a number of young female writers, but they’re all accounted for.” He’d spent the wait making calls, confirming that. “My -take—-he’s just the unlucky bastard who found the bones.”

The two detectives exchanged a look, but Will didn’t much care what they thought of his instincts. They’d come to the same conclusion after a couple of minutes with -Shane—-the man remained green around the gills. “Look, unless you need something else right now, I have to get to the second site.”

“Yeah, we’d better go examine the skeleton. I’ll let you know what the bone specialists say.”

As Will drove away from the site, he saw curious locals beginning to slow down their battered trucks and rusty sedans as they passed the -dump—-they’d probably come to abandon rubbish, been startled by the forensic van and multiple police vehicles. Just wait until the second team arrived. Golden Cove was about to become a circus.

He shut his mind to all of it as he drove, thinking about what Shane had found, what Anahera had found. Coincidence? Yes. No one could manipulate the sea. But he’d have to look at the body first to confirm. It’d all depend on how long Miriama had been in the water. Because if you knew the sea really -well—-as so many of the men and women in this area -did—-it might be possible to drop a body in at a particular point with a fairly good expectation of it being washed up on the beach.