The Body in Bodega Bay Read Free Page A

If you don’t reach me, contact the sergeant in Investigations. You’ve got my card. It has my number, and if I don’t answer, it’ll ring through to Reception. Carol will route you to the sergeant.”
    â€œAll right,” said Toby, standing and shaking hands with Dan. “And you’ll keep us posted if you learn anything?”
    â€œYou can count on it. This must be hard for you. I’m sorry.” Dan put his hand on Toby’s upper arm and gave him a manly pat.
    â€œThanks.” Toby gave Dan a grateful look and then led him out. I cleared the mugs from our California Mission coffee table. Toby sank back down on the sofa. I gave him a little breathing space as I puttered around the living room. It was a few minutes after three. Toby switched on the radio to catch the local news. He wanted to see if they had picked up the story. Through the static, it was clear that they had.
    â€œA body was discovered this afternoon in an abandoned boat in Bodega Harbor. The Sonoma County Sheriff’s office is treating the boat as a crime scene. No further information is available at this time, pending the notification of next of kin.”
    Toby clicked off the radio. He wore a pained expression and was nodding his head back and forth, as if denial could restore his equanimity.
    â€œAre you okay?”
    â€œIf I said yes, I’d be lying. Charlie was a quiet guy. He didn’t say much, but I liked being with him, after all the time I’ve spent working alone. I’ll miss hanging out with him. I’ll miss the easy way he had with people who came into the shop. And I’m angry. I’m angry something terrible like this happened to him.”
    â€œYou have a right to be.”
    â€œMaybe this is stupid, but you know what I’ve been thinking of? That line from The Maltese Falcon , when Bogart says, ‘When a man’s partner is killed, he’s supposed to do something about it.’ That’s how I feel about Charlie. It keeps running through my head.”
    I sat next to him and took his hand. “It isn’t stupid. You love that movie, and you used to do a pretty good Bogart imitation.” In fact, we both like watching the classic movies channel, and Toby has a small repertoire of famous actor imitations. He does a few of the most obvious ones: Bela Lugosi, Groucho Marx, Bogie. “Go on,” I coaxed him, because I thought it might help.
    He curled his lip and tried a nasal whistle, then slumped down. “Not now. I can’t. But that line keeps running through my head. Remember when his partner gets shot at the beginning of the movie?”
    â€œSure I do. The woman, what’s her name, did it.”
    â€œAnd by the end Bogie is in love with her, but he turns her in because he’s got this code that says when a man’s partner is killed, he’s got to do something about it. It doesn’t matter what he thought of him, or whether the guy was good or bad, he’s supposed to do something.” There was no hint left now of the imitation. Toby looked determined. “And damn it, I’m going to try.”

2
    H IGHWAY 1 FROM BODEGA BAY to Jenner is a dazzling stretch of road. The two-lane tarmac spools up and down low, close-cropped hills and winds around treacherous horseshoe bends, while the ocean crashes against the bluffs and throws spume high into the air. At night the drive is dangerous, especially if the fog rolls in, but on a sunny afternoon it’s breathtaking. You may pass a cow or two nibbling by a fence or, overlooking the sea, a row of tiny cottages, hardly more than shacks, really. They can’t be enlarged, and they’re on land that can’t be developed thanks to strict state laws designed to preserve the coast. Without those laws, this slice of northern California would look like southern Florida, with high-rise condos and neon signs crowding the shoreline, but along Highway 1 there’s