Page 3 of Fire Harbor
“Not every call is normal. And you can’t hurry a routine call, Jimmy. Each one is different and should get your full attention,” Linus remarked, running his fingers through a swath of dark sandy hair that had fallen across his forehead. “No matter what the situation is, you’ll find that taking your time at the scene helps with all the paperwork we do back at the hospital.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Details matter for billing purposes, I get that. The stupid jerk who ran off the road doesn’t even need transport. These bones aren’t our responsibility.”
“Tell that to the unfortunate person who ended up here tossed in a shallow grave.”
Jimmy winced. “That’s what I thought you’d say. When they told me my partner did things strictly by the book, I have to say I was skeptical. But I like the way you treat the job like it’s an extension of the hospital. Although hanging around a bunch of bones like this makes me antsy.”
“It’s impossible for me to ignore the significance during such a routine call,” Linus explained, chewing his lower lip as he scratched the stubble on his chin and glanced around the dunes. “It’s as if we were supposed to find them. Look, I know you’re not from Pelican Pointe, but a lot of crazy things happen on this bridge, things people can’t explain. Local legend claims this place is haunted.”
“I know about the weird things that have happened here. My cousin—on my dad’s side from Santa Cruz— even had a strange encounter with a cop on this very bridge. It was so scary she lost it, cracked up, and spent eighteen months in a mental health facility afterward. It derailed her entire life.”
“No kidding? What happened? Is she all right now?”
“It shook her up. It seems this cop pulled her over and then tried to attack her with chloroform, then took out a needle. It was enough to give her nightmares after that.”
“How’d she get away from him?”
“She’s not sure who helped her, but for years insisted that a stranger showed up out of the blue and shoved the guy away from her car before tossing him to the side of the road. She used that to her advantage and took off out of there. Makes no sense to me, but that was Sofia’s story. She probably made it up. Sofia was always prone to exaggeration. I didn’t give it much thought at the time. All I know is she cracked up after it happened. She once wanted more than anything to be an actress. After the incident, she suffered a breakdown, lives in Denver now, married to a fireman with a kid on the way.”
Linus sighed, staring down at the bones. “There was talk about a sequence of incidents similar to what happened to your cousin. My mother swears there were stories about a rogue state trooper who would stop women along the bridge for minor traffic offenses. He’d pull them over for a broken taillight or for speeding a few miles over the limit, then pressure them to go somewhere private.”
“You think that could explain what happened to Sofia? And this guy might have done this to others? Namely, that skull we’re looking at. Did anyone ever do anything to stop him?”
“My mother says the guy racked up lots of complaints, but the highway patrol chose to ignore most of them. The situation took care of itself when this state trooper got killed in a shootout on patrol near Santa Cruz.”
“Wow. Did that put a stop to the incidents?”
“I’m not sure. But yeah. Probably.” Linus made the call to the county sheriff’s department, providing dispatch with details that included finding human remains, the location, and his ID for follow-up.
“Maybe I’ll mention the state trooper to my aunt when I talk to her again and she could pass that information along to Sofia. You know, let her know the guy is dead. It might make her feel better about driving at night. Sofia still refuses to get out past dark,” Jimmy noted. “Maybe these bones are left over from that timeframe.”
“I don’t think so,” Linus murmured. “And to my knowledge, there was no indication the police officer in question ever used chloroform on anyone. Sounds like he used his badge more for sexual assault. But who knows?”
“Sounds like a real sick guy. But the situation fits the guy who went after Sofia. Is there any way we could find out for certain?”
Linus pointed to the motorcycle cop. “Maybe you should’ve become a detective instead of an EMT.”
Jimmy shook his head. “No thanks. I’m not the gun-toting type. How’s your mom doing after her surgery?”
The question made Linus wince. But only for a moment. He took the intrusion into his privacy in stride. Living in a small town meant it was common knowledge that he looked after his mom. “Her follow-up visit went well. Her doctors say she’s doing better than they expected. The stent should keep the artery from narrowing again.”
“Not surprising.” When that earned him a scowl, Jimmy went on, “Let’s face it. Your mom scares me a little. She’s nice enough but she can be—”
“Overwhelming on her best day,” Linus provided even as thoughts spun through his head about Annette Canfield’s latest string of heart problems. Her declining health kept him on a first-name basis with doctors Quentin Blackwood and Gideon Nighthawk.
“Since she retired, she’s like a runaway freight train,” Linus felt the need to add. “My mother is determined not to become a burden to anyone, least of all to me. A trait that would be admirable if she weren’t so stubborn about keeping her doctor’s appointments.”
Jimmy kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot, anxious to get back on the road. “Did the sheriff’s department give you an ETA? How long do we plan to hang around here and wait?”
Linus checked his text messages. “They’re still five minutes out. Chill. Okay? As it stands, I don’t like leaving this discovery to the county. They’re usually too busy or too distracted to give it the time it deserves.”
When a tow truck pulled up above them, Linus bobbed his head toward the driver of the car. “Make sure his story doesn’t change. Don’t let him spin another yarn about how he lost control of his SUV because he needed to be in Santa Cruz.”
“You got it. Be right back.”
Linus used the time alone to jot down more notes, estimating the distances from where the original burial might have taken place versus how far the animal activity had contributed to the present location.
He went through all this information again once the county deputies began to show up. One by one, Linus took them through his theory about how the heavy downpours in previous months had impacted the drought-ridden marshland into giving up its secrets. But the deputies seemed disinterested. They shooed him off the sandbank and away from the harbor like he’d suddenly developed the plague.