“All of these people are good people,” Joe said, shaking his head. “They would never do anything like this. We are very peaceful, and Leon was one of our own. He was a good man. It had to be a tourist.” A ferocity came into Joe’s dark eyes, and I could tell he was offended at Jack’s suggestion. He was loyal to his community, and that kind of loyalty would never find a killer.
The unfortunate truth about our line of work was that everyone was a liar until proven they were telling the truth.
“I’m not saying it wasn’t a tourist,” Jack said, speaking softly. Jack had a way about him. He was one of those men who never had to raise his voice. When he spoke people listened. He had a natural authority and ability to lead. “And it’s probably a good idea to suspend boat and ferry services off the island for the time being. You can think of an excuse to shut them down. All I’m asking is that you collect information and listen and observe. You’re a cop. You might not be an experienced one, but your gut will tell you when you’re on the right track. Sometimes people don’t realize they know something until you ask the right question. They know you and trust you. The biggest majority of police work is documenting the facts. That’s all you need to do.”
Some of the starch went out of Joe’s posture and he nodded in agreement. “I can do that. Do you want me to show you the body?”
I dug through the box and shoved some plastic baggies in the back pocket of my shorts, along with a little black leather pouch that had tweezers and other small motor skill tools in it to collect evidence. I could take photos from my phone. That was pretty much the extent of our equipment. I didn’t even want to think about how we were going to transport the body.
“Nah, we’re comfortable finding our way around,” Jack said. “But let me know how involved you want us to be once we start. We don’t want to step on any toes. You’re welcome to take over at any time.”
“No, this is best,” Joe said. “Leon deserves someone with experience. And I don’t have that. Thank God.”
Jack nodded and put his hand on the small of my back, and we walked around the side of the church and away from the crowd.
Chapter Four
The church was deeper and more sprawling than it looked from the front, and it rose up in elevation, so by the time we made it to the courtyard that connected the church and the clergy house my shirt was sticking to my back and I was breathing heavy.
The courtyard was protected by a black wrought iron fence overflowing with bright purple bougainvillea. It should’ve been a peaceful area. Shaded and serene. A place for reflection. The gate stood open and we passed under the arch. Wild vines scraped the top of my head and caught in my hair as we walked beneath it. The courtyard was small and private with benches placed in the shaded areas. It was sandwiched between the church and a small plain house in matching stucco.
A statue of a saint stood rigid and fierce in the center of the courtyard. I would’ve been scared to face my sins too if I’d had to stare at him for very long. He held a sword and a shield as if ready for battle. Maybe he was. There were a lot of demons in this world to fight.
I hadn’t grown up Catholic, and it had been a while since I’d stepped foot in a church of any denomination. I’d spent a lot of years angry at God, and questioning why I’d been dealt such a shitty hand. Getting word that my parents had driven over a cliff in a double suicide, finding out they’d been under investigation by the FBI for using the soldiers returning home in caskets to smuggle illegal goods, and then discovering my dad was still alive and into some very shady shit had been about all the reality I’d been able to stand over the past couple of years.
I did thank God for Jack. I’d have been lost without him through all of that.
“That’s definitely a dead body,” Jack said, coming to a stop beside me. “And an interesting one at that. Don’t ever tell anyone I don’t know how to show a woman a good time.”
I ducked my head so no one would see me smile. I had a feeling the priests wouldn’t see anything amusing. In truth, we didn’t see anything amusing either, but gallows humor was pretty typical at crime scenes. And we’d seen enough atrocities over the years in this business that we had to laugh. It was a hell of a lot better than breaking down in tears.
The frail body was precisely laid out just below the statue of the saint in a funereal pose. His ankles were crossed, one on top of the other, and his arms were crossed over his ribs. A knife with an ornate hilt stuck from the center of his chest, and a black cloth lay over his face.
“Jesus.” My eyes widened at the sight of the knife. It took a lot of strength to stab someone in the heart. It was pretty much the last place you should try to stab someone unless you were trying to make a statement. I was guessing that the killer had wanted to make a statement with Leon.
The courtyard was clear of everyone except three priests in black robes. They stood like sentries, their backs turned toward the body, as they kept watch.
“Damn, those priests are creeping me out. They haven’t moved an inch since we walked into the courtyard. They haven’t even made eye contact.”