me as if I’d just confessed to the crime. Maybe an aha! moment shouldn’t be shared with cops predisposed to suspect the worst.
March’s voice rumbled. “What incident report?”
The hell with it. I hadn ’t done anything wrong, had nothing to hide. Besides, the cops needed to notify Etienne, and Yolette’s killer needed catching.
“Ms. Marinelli?”
“On the Monday tour,” I said, measuring my words, “this guy I’m pretty sure belongs to the Covenant made a scene. The people who were still with me when it happened gave us their names and numbers for the incident report we filed. Yolette and her husband were two of those tourists.”
“Who is we?” I must’ve looked blank because he added, “You said the report ‘we’ filed. Who else are you referring to?”
“The other tour guides. Janie Freeman and Mick Burney. The supervisor was notified by phone. The written report was turned in Tuesday.”
“So your boss at the company—” He looked down at his notes. “—Elise Williams will have the names and contact info?”
“She should.”
“All right, thanks.” March stuffed his notebook and pen in his jacket pocket. “Ms. Marinelli, when did you realize you knew the victim?”
“When I saw her face.”
“And that was?”
“After I called 911 and went back to the beach.”
“You didn’t recognize her in the water?”
“No. We towed her in facedown.”
Detective March shook his head as if looking for holes in our story, which he probably was.
“Anything else you noticed this morning? About anything?”
“I thought I saw a boat past the breakers before we got in the water.”
“What kind?”
“A little one. Like a kayak.” He raised a brow, and I shrugged. “Or it could’ve been a pelican.”
“Did you see it fly off?”
“I didn’t pay attention.”
“Then that’s it for now. We’ll need you to come to the station to make and sign complete statements.”
“Fine,” Neil said. “I can come now, but Cesca will have to sleep first.”
“That true?” March asked.
I shrugged. “I can only be up a few hours after dawn.”
“All right, but don’t leave town. Either of you.”
“I’ll have to go if I get a call on state business.”
“If that happens, Mr. Benson, let us know.” March frowned and looked at me. “Ms. Marinelli, when can you come in?”
“At four or five this afternoon.”
“Good. Maybe the ME will have a report by then.”
I nodded and shut out the mental image of cell doors slamming on me.
“Detective,” Neil called as March turned to leave. “Do you still need our surfboards?”
“For now.” He fished two cards from his shirt pocket and handed one to each of us. “Call, and I’ll let you know about your property.”
When Detective March plodded back down the boardwalk stairs, Neil raked a hand through his hair.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, heading for the parking lot.
I fell into step behind him, wondering how much longer I’d be a free vampire.
“Here’s the plan,” he said as we walked. “You go on back to the penthouse and sleep. I’ll call Maggie at work and fill her in. We’ll get you an attorney.”
“I need a lawyer right now?” I squeaked.
“It’s just a precaution.” We stopped at my truck, and he tossed the towel he’d used onto my passenger seat. “After all, you haven’t done anything wrong, right?”
“Effing right.”
Both his brows hiked to his hairline at my vehemence. “Effing? Fresca, you don’t curse except for an occasional hell and damn. Are you scared about this?”
“Neil, there’s a body with apparent vampire marks on it. I’d met the victim, I found the body, and, oh yeah, I’m a vampire. If nothing else, I’ll be a scapegoat.”
“But you don’t own a gun.”
“How hard are they to get? The Jag Queens have guns, for heaven ’s sake. I don’t need Suspects for Dummies to see where this is going.”
“That’s the smart mouth I know.” He cuffed me on
March’s voice rumbled. “What incident report?”
The hell with it. I hadn ’t done anything wrong, had nothing to hide. Besides, the cops needed to notify Etienne, and Yolette’s killer needed catching.
“Ms. Marinelli?”
“On the Monday tour,” I said, measuring my words, “this guy I’m pretty sure belongs to the Covenant made a scene. The people who were still with me when it happened gave us their names and numbers for the incident report we filed. Yolette and her husband were two of those tourists.”
“Who is we?” I must’ve looked blank because he added, “You said the report ‘we’ filed. Who else are you referring to?”
“The other tour guides. Janie Freeman and Mick Burney. The supervisor was notified by phone. The written report was turned in Tuesday.”
“So your boss at the company—” He looked down at his notes. “—Elise Williams will have the names and contact info?”
“She should.”
“All right, thanks.” March stuffed his notebook and pen in his jacket pocket. “Ms. Marinelli, when did you realize you knew the victim?”
“When I saw her face.”
“And that was?”
“After I called 911 and went back to the beach.”
“You didn’t recognize her in the water?”
“No. We towed her in facedown.”
Detective March shook his head as if looking for holes in our story, which he probably was.
“Anything else you noticed this morning? About anything?”
“I thought I saw a boat past the breakers before we got in the water.”
“What kind?”
“A little one. Like a kayak.” He raised a brow, and I shrugged. “Or it could’ve been a pelican.”
“Did you see it fly off?”
“I didn’t pay attention.”
“Then that’s it for now. We’ll need you to come to the station to make and sign complete statements.”
“Fine,” Neil said. “I can come now, but Cesca will have to sleep first.”
“That true?” March asked.
I shrugged. “I can only be up a few hours after dawn.”
“All right, but don’t leave town. Either of you.”
“I’ll have to go if I get a call on state business.”
“If that happens, Mr. Benson, let us know.” March frowned and looked at me. “Ms. Marinelli, when can you come in?”
“At four or five this afternoon.”
“Good. Maybe the ME will have a report by then.”
I nodded and shut out the mental image of cell doors slamming on me.
“Detective,” Neil called as March turned to leave. “Do you still need our surfboards?”
“For now.” He fished two cards from his shirt pocket and handed one to each of us. “Call, and I’ll let you know about your property.”
When Detective March plodded back down the boardwalk stairs, Neil raked a hand through his hair.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, heading for the parking lot.
I fell into step behind him, wondering how much longer I’d be a free vampire.
“Here’s the plan,” he said as we walked. “You go on back to the penthouse and sleep. I’ll call Maggie at work and fill her in. We’ll get you an attorney.”
“I need a lawyer right now?” I squeaked.
“It’s just a precaution.” We stopped at my truck, and he tossed the towel he’d used onto my passenger seat. “After all, you haven’t done anything wrong, right?”
“Effing right.”
Both his brows hiked to his hairline at my vehemence. “Effing? Fresca, you don’t curse except for an occasional hell and damn. Are you scared about this?”
“Neil, there’s a body with apparent vampire marks on it. I’d met the victim, I found the body, and, oh yeah, I’m a vampire. If nothing else, I’ll be a scapegoat.”
“But you don’t own a gun.”
“How hard are they to get? The Jag Queens have guns, for heaven ’s sake. I don’t need Suspects for Dummies to see where this is going.”
“That’s the smart mouth I know.” He cuffed me on
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