stuff he’s found for the museum in Jackson.”
“I have.”
“Then you know there’s no way he fell into the Mississippi. Not unless he had a heart attack or something.”
“Maybe that’s what happened,” I say, though I don’t believe it. “Or a stroke. Buck was over seventy. With some luck, we’ll find out where he went in. That might tell us what he was doing.”
I can see Denny making mental calculations. “I need to leave the DJI down there till the cops leave,” he says, “but I can access the file from here. It just eats up a lot of my monthly data allowance.”
“I’ll reimburse you.”
His face lights up. “Awesome!”
He stabs the iPad screen, waves me closer. Thanks to the sun hood, I now have a glare-free view of what Denny shot only a few minutes ago. On the screen, two deputies with no experience at hauling corpses out of water are attempting to do just that. All I can see of the dead man is one side of a gray-fleshed face and a thin arm trailing in the muddy current. Then the head lolls over on the current, and a wave of nausea rolls through me. My mouth goes dry.
It’s Buck.
I can’t see his whole head, but the far side of his skull appears to have been broken open by some sort of fracture. As I strain to see more, his head sinks back into the water. “Fast-forward,” I urge.
Denny’s already doing it. At triple speed, the deputies dart around the deck of the rescue boat like cartoon characters, occasionally leaning over the gunwale to try to yank Buck’s body free of the tree fork holding him in the water. Suddenly one looks skyward and begins waving his arms. Then he starts yelling, draws his pistol, and fires at the camera suspended beneath the drone.
“What a freakin’ idiot,” Denny mutters, as the deputy fires again.
“Does he not realize those bullets have to come down somewhere?” I ask.
“He flunked physics.”
“Don’t they teach gravity in grade school?”
After holstering his gun, the deputy stomps back to a hatch in the stern and removes what looks like a ski rope. Then he makes a loop in the rope, leans over the gunwale, and starts trying to float the lasso he made down over Buck’s body.
“No, damn it!” I bellow. “Have some goddamn respect!”
Denny snorts at this notion.
“He needs to tie the rope around his waist,” I mutter, “then get in the water himself and free the body.”
“You’re dreaming,” Denny says in the lilt of a choirboy whose voice has not yet broken. “He’s gonna lasso the body, gun the motor, and leave a rooster tail all the way back to the dock.”
“And rip Buck’s body in half in the process.”
“Was it Buck for sure?” he asks. “I couldn’t tell.”
“Yeah. It’s him.”
Denny lowers his head over the screen.
It takes some time, but the deputy eventually gets the rope around Buck, and he does in fact use the motor to tear him free of the snag’s grasp. Thankfully, the corpse appears to stay in one piece, and after the boat stops, the deputies slowly drag it up over the transom.
“Oh, man,” Denny mutters.
“What?”
“Look at his head. The side of it. It’s all messed up.”
It doesn’t take a CIA analyst to see that something caved in the left side of Buck Ferris’s skull. The vault of his cranium has a hole the size of a Sunkist orange in it. Now that he’s out of the water, his face looks oddly deflated. “I saw.”
“What did that?” Denny asks. “A baseball bat?”
“Maybe. Could have been a gunshot. Gunshot wounds don’t look like they do on TV, or even in the movies. But it might be blunt force trauma. A big rock could have done that. Maybe he took a fall before he went into the river.”
“Where?” Denny asks, incredulous. “There’s hardly any rocks around here. Even if you fell off the bluff, you wouldn’t hit one. Not igneous rocks. You’d have to hit concrete or something to do that.”
“He could have fallen onto some riprap,” I suggest, meaning the large gray rocks the Corps of Engineers carpets the riverbanks with to slow erosion.
“I guess. But those are right down by the water, not under the bluff.”
“And he would have had to fall from a height to smash his skull like that.” Despite my emotional state, I’m suddenly wondering about the legal implications of Denny’s drone excursion. “You know, you really need to turn this footage over to the sheriff.”
“It’s not