Deckler shook his head and huffed again, seeming insulted that I’d asked the same question twice. “Like I said, you want details, you’ll have to talk to Steve.”
“Okay.”
I smiled as I took a step toward the creek, already imagining myself at the edge, waving like an idiot to get Steve’s attention. Even from this distance, he did not look like he’d appreciate that kind of thing.
“Whoa, hold up!” Deckler barked before I’d gotten very far. “You can’t just go down there. I’ll have to call him up.”
“Oh, no, that’s—”
Before I could get my objection out, Deckler had whistled loudly through his fingers, right next to my ear, as if calling a dog. When Steve swiveled his head in our direction, he did not look happy.
“Really, I can wait,” I offered meekly, though it was already too late.
“Not here next to me, you can’t.”
Steve looked even more aggravated as he stalked to the side of the river. Don’t you think we’ve got more important things to do than waste our time talking to reporters? I could already imagine him saying that as I watched him take the time to climb out of the water, put on his police hat, which he’d left on the bank for safekeeping, and start up the hill. It took an excruciatingly long time for Steve to climb in those boots that should have looked ridiculous on him but somehow didn’t. It helped that he moved with a slow, strong surety. Like he already knew how things were going to turn out.
At the top of the hill, Steve nodded briskly in my direction before turning to Deckler. He was better-looking up close, the lines of his strong face offset enough to make his square features interesting instead of odd. Nothing like Justin’s fine bone structure, of course. Justin was the kind of man women openly ogled. Steve was the kind they counted on for a rescue.
“There a problem, Officer Deckler?”
“This is Molly Sanderson.” Deckler sounded pleased to be ratting me out. “She’s a writer. Someone from your department told her to come here.”
“I’m with the Ridgedale Reader.” I reached out a hand and smiled at Steve, hoping we could breeze past the whole issue of who had called me. “I don’t want to take up your time. I’d just like to confirm some facts.” I motioned toward the tarp. “You found a body?”
Steve shook my hand slowly, eyes boring into me. “The Reader, huh? Are you new? I know that other fella. Robert, is it?”
“Richard,” I said, feeling stupidly satisfied that he’d gotten Richard’s name wrong.
“Someone from my department called you?”
“I don’t know the details. My boss told me to come down here. Actually, I’m just pinch-hitting. My usual beat is arts.” Little lost girl seemed as good a way to play it as any, especially when it didn’t feel that far from the truth. And from the way Steve’s face immediately softened, I could tell it had been the right call. “I really do apologize for intruding. You have a job to do, I understand that. But if you wouldn’t mind helping me do mine, then I can get right out of your way.”
Steve stared at me for what felt like an inordinately long time. I had to strain not to look away. “Because you’re here and you’re local, I’ll tell you what I can,” he said at last, crossing his arms. “Shoot.”
It took me a beat too long to realize that he was waiting for an actual question. “Have you identified the victim?” I asked, hustling to maintain my composure as my heart beat harder.
But I could do this. I’d practiced the whole ride over. And being a reporter wasn’t that different from being a lawyer. Not that, as a policy analyst, I had done a lot of interrogating. I hadn’t really questioned anyone since mock trial in law school.
“No,” Steve said, shaking his head as he turned to look at the water.
Okay, not as wordy a response as I had hoped. But that was okay, I had other questions. “Any leads on who it might be?”
“No.”
“Male or female?”
“Female.”
I felt a little thrill: an actual answer. A female victim. It wasn’t much, but it was something. I was getting worried I’d have absolutely nothing when I went back to Erik. “Approximate age?”
“I wouldn’t want to guess.” Steve’s eyes were back on mine but softer now. Sad, almost. “We’ll need confirmation from the medical examiner.”
I could feel Deckler staring at the two of us. Judging, was what it felt like. You’re not falling for his macho crap, are you?
“Two more questions,” Steve said. “Then you’re going to need to clear the scene so we can get our job done.”
“Did she die of natural causes?”
“Unclear,” he said.
“Unclear?” I couldn’t let him get away with that. “No indication?”
“Nothing I’m going to comment on without an official ME report.”
Just then the radio on Steve’s hip buzzed to life. “They’re going to need a smaller bag down here,” a crackly voice said. “You know, baby-size. Adult ones won’t work. ME wants us to go pick one up.”
Steve snapped the radio off his waist, his jaw tightening. His eyes were locked on the creek as he brought the radio to his mouth. “Then send someone,” he answered through clenched teeth. “Now.” He switched the radio off entirely before sliding it back into his belt.