She's Not There Read Free Page A

served as an office too. It looked deserted. If it was deserted, I’d try the clinic at New Harbor. Maybe I could get the doctor to look at the body. Hopefully, he’d know what to do as far as getting someone official out to the island. Joe had picked one hell of a day to go dashing off to the mainland.
    I threw down the bike and ran up onto the trooper’s porch, opened the ripped screen door and knocked, waited, and knocked a little harder. I thought I saw movement over at the window. I let the screen slam shut, stepped off the little porch, and went to it. Trooper Fitzgerald’s haggard, scowling face was up against the glass. I jumped. He gaped at me. The man was not wearing a shirt. I banged directly on the windowpane, hoping it wouldn’t break. Maybe hoping it would. He grimaced. Then he shouted at me, “Hold on, goddamn it.”
    He disappeared and I went back to the door. After a few minutes I pretty much started bashing on it again, a vicarious bashing of the idiotic man himself. Finally, he threw the door open and stood there on the other side of the screen. His eyes were red and watery. He had a shirt on now; he was buttoning it. His fly was open. He ran his fingers through his dirty hair.
    Finally he said, “This better be good.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re that ATF guy’s latest, aren’t you?”
    I decided to act as though I’d never seen him before. “Are you the trooper?”
    He smiled. “No. I’m Blackbeard the pirate.”
    I smiled back. “Oh. Well, there’s a dead girl lying on Coonymus Road, twenty yards down from the B and B. But she needs a police officer, not a pirate.” I turned toward the porch steps. The hell with him. I’d have to take over myself. I knew I wasn’t meant for vacations.
    â€œDon’t move.” I turned back. “What dead girl?”
    â€œI wouldn’t know what dead girl. She’s quite overweight. I’d guess she must be from the camp.”
    â€œWhat the hell was she doing?”
    â€œDoing? You don’t understand. She’s dead. She—”
    â€œI mean, what did she do? Step in a pothole and break her neck?”
    I said, “She was naked.”
    â€œNaked?” He started ripping through his hair again. “Shit.”
    â€œTommy’s with her. He’s the constable.”
    â€œI know who Tommy is. Listen, she wasn’t just spaced out, was she? That so-called constable sure as hell wouldn’t know the difference between croaked and high.”
    â€œI would.”
    â€œWould you? Your boyfriend teach you a few things like that?”
    Two tourists, running along the road, looked over. I said, “Officer, the area needs to be cordoned off before some jogger heads up toward Coonymus.”
    â€œYeah.” He zipped his fly and shoved the screen door open. I stepped back in time not to get hit with it. He looked toward the joggers. “Goddamn show-offs. Want everyone to notice their tight little asses. Sight of some dead girl might get a few of these nutcases off the highways.”
    Highways.
    Then he mumbled something about his rookie gone patrolling and how he would have to find him. He said to me, “Go in my office and call that slob that runs the B and B. Tell her I’ll be there in five minutes and not to go near the body. Not to let any of those derelicts who stay with her near the body either. Then call Doc Brisbane at the clinic and tell him to get the hell up to Coonymus Road with his van and not waste any time about it.”
    He stomped down the porch and went to his car. It was unmarked. He got in, started it, and shot off down the road.
    I did what he’d asked me to do, went inside and found his phone. First, Aggie. She told me the guests were all on the porch, didn’t want to miss anything. “Too scared to go near the body, though,” she said. “Not to worry. Tommy covered her with a