back soon. Guard the house, okay, boy?”
The dog woofed as if he’d understood her every word. He followed them to the door, but made no attempt to come out.
“That’s a good dog,” he told her.
She smiled. “Most dogs are good dogs. They just need good people. So, what’s it like where you’re living? What have you been doing the last decade or so?”
“Military, the academy, the FBI,” he told her.
“Ah.” She was quiet for a minute as they got into his rental car. When they were seated, she asked, “What about your family? From what I can recall, your dad was Miccosukee and your mom wasn’t. Is that correct?”
“Good memory. One grandmother was a Miccosukee, and one grandfather was a Seminole. One grandfather was from Norway, and the other grandmother was from England.”
She laughed. “All-American boy. Your dad had a couple of homes, right?”
“My mom and dad did, yes. Two homes, one on tribal land and another in Coconut Grove. He was in construction.”
“Right, and your mom was a teacher. Are they still around here somewhere?”
“My dad passed away three years ago. My mother loves to come back and visit, but she moved to New York City. She had some cousins there and she’s able to volunteer at a few schools, which she loves.”
“That’s nice for her. I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks.” He hesitated. “He had a good life. He was older when I was born. I was able to be with him when he died, and so was my mom. Best that could be hoped for.”
“I’m glad,” she murmured.
She fell silent. The drive from her place to the Tamiami Trail and then straight out west wasn’t bad. It was midday and while rush hour in the Miami area could be brutal, they managed to avoid it.
They were headed out on the Trail, crossing over onto Miccosukee reservation land, when she spoke again.
“I still don’t get it. You believe what I saw. You didn’t call the police to escort me to an institution. And you’re bringing me out here.”
He was silent. When he was about to speak, she broke in with, “And don’t tell me about a ghostly pirate ship. I mean, such things are suggestive, right? A foggy night, deep in the Glades. One could imagine all kinds of things. Over and above the real things like the alligators and snakes. Boas and pythons stretching well over ten feet these days.”
“And not native,” he added.
She persisted. “Right. So?”
He looked ahead at the road. They were nearing the place where the body had been found, rolled almost to the water of the canal, hidden by bracken and brush and tree limbs and the natural fall of the embankment.
“Hey!” she said.
He glanced her way quickly. “In my line of work, I have seen all manner of things most people might not believe or accept. And I’ve discovered taking help in any form—however unbelievable others might think it—solves more cases than refusing to believe or follow leads that may not be what is customarily expected.”
She was frustrated, he thought, but she fell silent suddenly.
They had arrived. There were still police cars there—one from Dade County and one belonging to the Miccosukee police. A lone forensics vehicle remained.
Axel looked carefully at Raina as they exited the car. She appeared level and fine with their arrival. Her head was high, as if she’d taken enough mockery for the day and was ready for anything.
He was glad the police cars remaining belonged to Andrew and Nigel. He introduced them to Raina and neither asked questions about her being there. They greeted her politely and then told Axel they were heading out shortly. The autopsy wouldn’t be until the next day and the forensics team was just about finished.
As they moved down the embankment, Raina said quietly, “They didn’t ask why I was here.”
“They’re old friends.”
“And so they let you do what you want?”
“We’ve worked cases before.”
“Ah. So they know you’re weird?”
He smiled. “They know I’m weird.” He glanced her way. “I’ve known them since I was a kid. We all knew we’d go into law enforcement. We just went different ways.”
He thought she might say, “I see”—without really seeing anything at all.
She didn’t. She just kept walking with him. She’d worn the right shoes for the area, short boots with gripping soles, but she still slipped on a strip of mud. He caught her quickly and she smiled and added, “Thanks. I don’t really feel like wearing a lot of this swampy muck!”
Then they were