But this time she could see something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something circled in red. Part of the text.
Above it, a word—three letters—in bold capitals.
LIE.
Lie? What did that mean? What part of the text was a lie?
Before she had a chance to understand further, the gaze of her vision swung, as it always did, toward the window. She saw the view down to the harbor as clear as ever before. The boats there. No, ships—it was the taller end of the docks, the area where the larger vessels were at anchor. The shallower end was too shallow for them and only used for the small boats. She even thought that she might be able to see theSaint Marieand theJones Harbor Jim, both of them peacefully settled on the waves under a night sky—
She placed the plastic back where it had been before, leaving no trace that she had disturbed it at all.
Laura stood and stared at the figurehead for a long moment, lost in thought. The vision—it hadn’t changed.
And if the book was the same book she had seen, then whatever was going to happen still hadn’t happened yet.
Laura rubbed a hand over her mouth, trying to puzzle it out. Was it still a shot of the past? No, it couldn’t be, because the book she had seen was unmarked. So, perhaps it was a different book she was seeing? If that was the case, then the library card was no longer evidence against Cody Schafer. In fact, it might go so far as to exonerate him.
Or was there some twist coming up that she hadn’t foreseen?
Was Schafer about to be released, get that book from the library again, and deface it?
She turned and paced back and forth in the small space, ignoring the evidence in front of her now and only seeking to go over and over her vision as much as she could. The book…was she being dense? It was more than likely that a book about ships and myths related to the sea could be found in more than one copy in a coastal town like this. They made their livelihood around ships, and half of them ran tours. Was it possible that someone else had a copy of their own?
She shook her head to herself. So many questions and no answers. All she knew for sure was that something wasn’t right in this case.
She needed Nate.
Laura walked back through to the morgue, glancing over at the coroner as she passed through. The woman was nervous again, watching her closely as if hoping that she would leave without saying anything else.
Laura’s detective senses were tingling. This was nothing to do with a vision—this was just good, old-fashioned knowledge of human behavior and body language. The woman had something to hide.
“What’s going on?” she asked, figuring she would save time if she just got right to the point.
“Hmm?” the coroner asked, then shook her head sheepishly. “Oh, I was just glad that it’s all been solved and sorted out now. So, it doesn’t matter.”
“What doesn’t matter?” Laura ground out, her every sense on high alert now. She would have been able to tell that something was wrong even if she didn’t already feel it in every tiny particle of her gut. The woman was hiding a mistake. She knew it.
“Well, about Elias Makks,” the coroner said timidly, winding a piece of hair around one finger and tugging at it as though she was distracted enough to pull it right out of her head. “About how he died.”
“What do you mean, how he died?” Laura asked, stepping right up to the desk and towering over the woman. Alana had succumbed to the elements, not to the strangulation. Was that all? Had the coroner simply missed that Makks had clung onto life a little bit later than they had thought?
“He wasn’t strangled,” the coroner said, chewing her lip. “I mean, he was strangled—there were marks around his throat like with the others—but…I think they were post-mortem.”
The woman was burying the lead, and she had to know it. Laura leaned on the desk, slamming her hands down hard enough to make her jump. She was feeling murderous enough herself. It was only the fact that she didn’t actually want blood on her hands that kept her in check. “How did Elias Makks die?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“He drowned,” the coroner said, her voice a ghost which she had to cough to revive. “Um, I found some water in his lungs. It couldn’t have got in there after he died, which, um, which suggests…”
“I know what it suggests,” Laura growled, wiping a hand across her forehead in frustration, trying to ease the headache that was throbbing there. “When did you find this out?”
“Only this morning,” the coroner said, wincing slightly. “I was going to say something, but everyone was so busy…”
Laura gritted her teeth to hold back the anger. “Salt or fresh?”
“Sorry?”
“The water,” Laura said, her eyes flashing cold fire. “Was it saltwater or freshwater?”
“It was saltwater,” the coroner replied, shrinking under Laura’s gaze.