corrected.
"If I was one of your neighbors," Steve said, "I'd move."
CHAPTER TWO
Russell "Cork" Corcoran liked to tell the rookie life guards under his command that he was the inspiration for David Hasselhoff's character on Baywatch . He told Steve Sloan the same thing as they drove in his life guard patrol truck to the southern edge of Point Dume state beach. Steve would have had an easier time believing Cork's story if David Hasselhoff was thirty pounds overweight and tried to hide a bald spot under six wispy strands of hair combed over from the other side of his head.
The rain had stopped, but it was just an intermission while the scenery changed in the meteorological show. Dark, heavy clouds were lumbering up to their marks onstage.
"Normally the currents run north to south," Cork explained as they bounced along the deserted beach in the bright yellow pickup, surfboards and rescue floats strapped to the bed. "But if there's a southern swell, like with the storm we've had the last couple of days, the current runs the opposite way."
After leaving his father's house, Steve had contacted the county lifeguards, hoping someone over there could use tide tables and currents to help him pinpoint where the dead woman might have been dumped into the sea by her killer. Cork had volunteered for the job.
"So you're guessing the body was dumped south of where it was found on Broad Beach," Steve said.
"There's no guesswork involved. I've been doing this job twenty years," Cork said. "I can feel how the currents are moving just by looking at the water."
"So if we know the direction the currents were moving, then it's just a matter of calculating the speed and working backward from her approximate time of death."
"The lateral current runs about a quarter knot per hour," Cork said. "That's about the equivalent of one mile per hour. But then you got to figure in the wind speed, which is going to have a much bigger impact on how far, how fast, and in what direction the body floated."
"How fast was the wind blowing?"
"Fifteen, twenty miles per hour," Cork said. "But you've also got to factor in the tide and lots of other variables. For instance, when there's a southern swell, the current moves a little faster. Plus the wind speed isn't constant; it tends to change based on the time of day. The wind also changes direction depending on what corner of Santa Monica Bay you're talking about."
"This is starting to sound like one of those tricky math questions we used to get in grade school," Steve said. "I flunked math."
"Me too," Cork said.
"Great," Steve said. "You happen to have a calculator in this truck?"
"I don't rely on numbers anyway," Cork said. "I prefer instinct."
Cork stopped the truck at the southernmost edge of sand, where the beach gave way to large, jagged boulders that spilled out into the sea, creating a natural breakwater. They got out of the vehicle and trudged a few feet to the shoreline, close enough to feel the ocean spray as the waves crashed against the rocks.
"Where we're standing, the wind runs west to east," Cork said. "My instincts tell me the girl had to be dumped here."
"If the wind blows east," Steve said, "wouldn't that drive the body right back to the beach?"
"You'd think so," Cork said. "But the bay curves in the same direction, so the wind actually runs parallel to the coastline, which, given the factors at play twelve hours ago, would have carried the body north."
Steve wasn't sure he understood Cork's thinking, but his instincts told him this was the right place.
It was a great spot to dispose of a body. There was a public parking lot that ran most of the length of the beach, which would have been pitch-black and empty last night, particularly in the midst of a storm. The location provided easy access and good cover, with the added benefit that the wind, the rain, and the tide would probably wash away any evidence the killer inadvertently left behind.
Steve glanced at the
"If I was one of your neighbors," Steve said, "I'd move."
CHAPTER TWO
Russell "Cork" Corcoran liked to tell the rookie life guards under his command that he was the inspiration for David Hasselhoff's character on Baywatch . He told Steve Sloan the same thing as they drove in his life guard patrol truck to the southern edge of Point Dume state beach. Steve would have had an easier time believing Cork's story if David Hasselhoff was thirty pounds overweight and tried to hide a bald spot under six wispy strands of hair combed over from the other side of his head.
The rain had stopped, but it was just an intermission while the scenery changed in the meteorological show. Dark, heavy clouds were lumbering up to their marks onstage.
"Normally the currents run north to south," Cork explained as they bounced along the deserted beach in the bright yellow pickup, surfboards and rescue floats strapped to the bed. "But if there's a southern swell, like with the storm we've had the last couple of days, the current runs the opposite way."
After leaving his father's house, Steve had contacted the county lifeguards, hoping someone over there could use tide tables and currents to help him pinpoint where the dead woman might have been dumped into the sea by her killer. Cork had volunteered for the job.
"So you're guessing the body was dumped south of where it was found on Broad Beach," Steve said.
"There's no guesswork involved. I've been doing this job twenty years," Cork said. "I can feel how the currents are moving just by looking at the water."
"So if we know the direction the currents were moving, then it's just a matter of calculating the speed and working backward from her approximate time of death."
"The lateral current runs about a quarter knot per hour," Cork said. "That's about the equivalent of one mile per hour. But then you got to figure in the wind speed, which is going to have a much bigger impact on how far, how fast, and in what direction the body floated."
"How fast was the wind blowing?"
"Fifteen, twenty miles per hour," Cork said. "But you've also got to factor in the tide and lots of other variables. For instance, when there's a southern swell, the current moves a little faster. Plus the wind speed isn't constant; it tends to change based on the time of day. The wind also changes direction depending on what corner of Santa Monica Bay you're talking about."
"This is starting to sound like one of those tricky math questions we used to get in grade school," Steve said. "I flunked math."
"Me too," Cork said.
"Great," Steve said. "You happen to have a calculator in this truck?"
"I don't rely on numbers anyway," Cork said. "I prefer instinct."
Cork stopped the truck at the southernmost edge of sand, where the beach gave way to large, jagged boulders that spilled out into the sea, creating a natural breakwater. They got out of the vehicle and trudged a few feet to the shoreline, close enough to feel the ocean spray as the waves crashed against the rocks.
"Where we're standing, the wind runs west to east," Cork said. "My instincts tell me the girl had to be dumped here."
"If the wind blows east," Steve said, "wouldn't that drive the body right back to the beach?"
"You'd think so," Cork said. "But the bay curves in the same direction, so the wind actually runs parallel to the coastline, which, given the factors at play twelve hours ago, would have carried the body north."
Steve wasn't sure he understood Cork's thinking, but his instincts told him this was the right place.
It was a great spot to dispose of a body. There was a public parking lot that ran most of the length of the beach, which would have been pitch-black and empty last night, particularly in the midst of a storm. The location provided easy access and good cover, with the added benefit that the wind, the rain, and the tide would probably wash away any evidence the killer inadvertently left behind.
Steve glanced at the
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