A faint chirp
caught Go’s attention: his earpiece. It was barely audible over the patter of water from Rosario’s shower and the buzzing of his toothbrush.
He powered the device off and spat into the sink.
The chirp came again—close by and muffled.
He poked his head into the steamy bathroom, barely noting the rose-like aroma of her soap. “Mind turning the water off for a second, love? My earpiece is ringing, but I can’t find it.”
She shut the water off and pulled the curtain aside, blinking. “Check under the sink.”
“Under the sink?” Her panties were bunched against the cabinet baseboard.
“I tore it off, remember? It was chafing my thigh.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.” The device chirped again—muffled. He brushed the panties aside, and plucked the device from the floor to slide onto his ear.
“Maybe it’s Raul. Those lawyers have to be done with this stupid bluff sooner or later.” She closed the curtain and turned the water back on.
“Reckon so.” But the display device flashed the caller ID: It was Donnell. “Yeah?”
The constable cleared his throat. “You remember how I told you about the Jane Does?”
Go hurried to the bed, where his outfit for the day was laid out—gray jeans and a black pullover. “Yeah.” He lowered his voice. “Were you able to use one to delay my bounty?”
“I was.”
“Thanks, mate.”
“But—” The constable sighed. “There’s been another one reported.”
“What? Another body? Where?”
“Out in the bay. A fisherman radioed it in. He spotted something white floating in the water.”
Go’s heart pounded in his chest to where he thought he would have to shout to be heard. “Are they bringing it in?”
“They prefer not to. They can be fairly superstitious. If they can see it in the area they fish in, the current will eventually bring it into the harbor.”
“Aren’t there fish that could eat it?”
“I’m sure they’ve been at it. The bodies are rarely intact by the time they’re spotted.”
“What about your staff? Do you have a Harbor Patrol?”
“They’re down at Golden Harbor, helping out with a pirate problem. I’ve called them back, but at best speed, they won’t be back until tonight.”
Go tried not to imagine Pardis out in the cold water, but her face stared at him, framed by the black depths. She had been chewed on so that her teeth showed in a rictus smile. Her throat had been torn away, so that she couldn’t scream for help. “I’ll rent a boat. Can you get me out there?”
“The body will come into the harbor in the next couple days. Even if it doesn’t, my team will find it. We’ll know tomorrow or the day after.”
“I have to know now. She—” Go swallowed. He’d promised her he would protect her. “Just give me coordinates.”
“There’s no GPS satellite system. We’re still trying to find the money to buy that.”
“Do any of these boats have regular navigation systems?”
It sounded like Donnell was shuffling papers. “I can go with you. I know my way around a boat well enough. But we’ll have to head back before dark.”
“I understand.”
“And if there’s a storm coming—”
“Yeah, yeah. I have to try.”
“I know. I’ll meet you at the pier.”
Go didn’t wait for the connection to close but went straight to searching for a boat to rent. There were only two—one large and one probably a little too small. He risked the smaller one.
He pulled on his clothes and when the shower turned off, moved closer to the bathroom. “Gotta go out on business, love.”
Curtain rings scraped. A second later, she came out of the bathroom, still toweling off. “What?”
“It wasn’t Raul. It was Donnell. They found another—” Go’s throat constricted. “A body.”
Anger darkened her features, but that softened to sympathy. “Is it her?”
“They don’t know yet. It’s out in the bay.”
“You’re going out in the bay? Isn’t this something the constables should handle?”
“Normally, yeah. Rosario, I…” He staggered toward her, then squeezed her against his chest. “She’s just a kid. I was going to protect her.”
Rosario stiffened. “You can’t protect everyone, Go. You have to choose your family.”
“She didn’t deserve this.”
“You don’t even know it’s her, do you?”
“I can’t rest until I know.”
Rosario pressed her chin against his collarbone. “All right, but don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
She squeezed him, then kissed him before pushing him away. “You’ve got toothpaste on your lips.”
He hadn’t rinsed! After finishing up at the sink, he kissed her. “We’ll be back before dark.”
“When you get back, we need to talk about this obsession of yours.”
It wasn’t an obsession, but that was something to be resolved later, when there was time for rational discussion. For now, he hurried out the door and rushed to the stairs. The day had turned hot, as if the chill of the storm had never managed to sink into the city, even though shallow puddles remained.
He found the rented boat, which seemed even smaller up close. At six meters, it wouldn’t be able to handle the sort of swells and chop the squall had thrown at the bay earlier. Go was no certified merchant marine, but he knew boats well enough. This one had a radio, sonar, an advanced electronic navigation system, and searchlights. It would do.
Donnell scrambled aboard as Go finished checking the sonar. The older man was dressed in a constable uniform, and he had a binocular case on his left hip. “The Water Wasp
? You like cutting it close. This is Jagdish’s boat. I helped him rebuild these motors a couple months ago.”
“You know motors now?”
“They’re quicker to fail than a gun. Most folks have no idea how easy it is to knock one out of commission.”
Go patted the pilot console. “She’s got some speed, yeah?”
“Not enough to outrun the sort of threats we have here.”
“We’ll be cautious.”
The constable untied the mooring line, then squeezed into the piloting area. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I guarantee that.”
“Not at all.” Go took the other seat, on the starboard side. “Thanks.”
“Hold off on that until we get back.”
They cleared the harbor, then Donnell opened up the motors and headed northwest. The small boat bounced and at times seemed to skip over the waves. When Go glanced over the side, the depths were every bit as dark as he had imagined.
“Six hours, yeah? Until dusk.”
The older man arched an eyebrow. “We won’t be gone that long. The call said the body was out near the Junk Islands, being carried in by the Dire Straits current.”
“Where’s that?”
“Some of the fishermen like to try the area. A string of islands—islets, really—pinch the bay out there. The currents are pretty strong, mostly drawing everything in. When things are bad, you don’t want a boat like this out there. It’s meant for speeding around the beach area.”
“Sky looks clear enough right now.”
“Fancier places have all those satellite images to tell you within fifty or sixty percent accuracy whether you’re about to have a good day or not.”
“Fifty-fifty.” Go blinked against the splash of salty mist coming from the prow. “I think I’d take it.”
“You like those odds for life?”
“Yeah. It’s more than most people have.”
Donnell relaxed, and the boat raced along, heading farther out from the harbor. Twice, they passed larger boats heading back in, carrying their haul or returning home with nothing. Fifty-fifty was probably acceptable to those people as well. Maybe it was enough to survive on.
After an hour, the eastern horizon began to darken. Go caught Donnell staring at the clouds, but the constable said nothing, and he didn’t turn the little boat around. Not even twenty minutes later, it sounded like the motors strained and the boat slowed. Dark humps rose from the water, catching the afternoon light enough to reveal mud-slick rock, some rising several meters.
“The Junk Islands.” Donnell pointed north, then killed the motor.
“Anyone live out here?”
“No one sane. There’re caves and one or two spots that stay above the water, but you couldn’t live on those rocks.” The constable pulled the binoculars from their case and passed them to Go. “Somewhere around here. The current would’ve carried it toward the harbor.”
Go scampered up to the top of the pilot station, found his balance, and searched to the south. “People always say needle in a haystack. Might as well say fish in the ocean.”
“Might as well.”
After a few minutes, Go turned more to the east. “I suppose you don’t have a helicopter, either.”
“Also down to Golden Harbor.”
“Pirates? That’s a big problem?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say they’re actually one crime gang trying to cut in on another’s territory.”
“Drugs?”
“That’d be my guess. The request for support came from the governor.”
“Reckon that’s not really much of a request.”
The constable chuckled. “One man’s request is another man’s orders.”
“I never was very good at taking orders.”
“No, you weren’t. Say, I thought about your friends, these other Lancers.”
“Rosario’s a friend.”
“Uh-huh. Your black partner. How well do you know him?”
“Jason?” Go lowered the binoculars. Donnell was on the port side, hands cupped over his eyes, scanning the water. “He seems like a good guy. Very capable.”
“He has a spotless record. Airtight. Not like the white guy.”
Go went back to searching for the white shape floating in the water. “That’s a good thing, yeah?”
“It can be. It can also be an indicator of a falsified record.”
“Those are pretty hard to pull off, yeah?”
“Unless you don’t really have much of a past to hide.”
“That’s good then?”
“Maybe. A lot of genies were able to use false IDs to move around freely during the Genie War.”
“He’s a good guy, Jason.”
“Is he a genie?”
Go bit his lip. “This Lancer work, it’s all a tangled mess. All sorts of people fall into it, a lot of them because they’ve got no other choice.”
“It’s like the currents here in the Dire Straits: A certain sort of people get drawn to trouble.”
“Yeah. I suppose—” Something bobbed in the water. “Hey! Out there! Southeast!” Go climbed down and handed the binoculars back to the constable. “I see…it.”
Donnell returned to the pilot seat, started the motor, and headed toward the shape floating in the water. It was white, and the closer they drew, the more it became obvious that it was a body.
The boat rocked, and nausea threatened Go. Part of a leg was missing, but the body seemed otherwise intact.
And female.
They slowed, then the motor reversed.
Go took deep breaths as they came up on the body. The hair was pale, darkened by the water. And the face…
Soft, the eyes open and staring. A cheek chewed away. Bruising.
Not Pardis, but it was a familiar face nonetheless.
The constable patted Go on the back. “I’ve got her.”
Donnell reached into the water, drew her up the side of the boat, grunted, until Go found himself reaching over and helping, pulling her onto the deck and noting distractedly that the fish had been at her back even more.
Donnell leaned against the pilot station. “Is it her?”
“No. But I’ve seen her before.”
“Another prostitute?”
“No. Look at her. The face was full and soft. She had a good life, an easy—” It came to Go. “Shit.”
“You recognize her now?”
“Raisa. She was a client’s lawyer.”