A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8) by Leona Fox

1
    I t was a lovely Sunday afternoon when Sadie Barnett and Zackary Woodstone walked hand in hand along the path around Faraway Lake. Every once in a while, they liked a change of scenery from the ocean walk they normally took together, and today was one of those days. They'd driven out of the coastal fog and into the next county to walk the path that surrounded the lake. Sadie's tiny terrier, Mr. Bradshaw, had been allowed off the leash and was following the scent of squirrels and raccoons a little way ahead of his people.
    The air was warm, the shade was cool and the lake as beautiful as a lake can be - a breeze ruffling the surface of the water, making the reflected sunlight dance. Sadie looked up at Zack and smiled. He really was a lovely man. He looked down and took her hand, swinging their arms as they strolled through the sunshine.
    “We should do this more often,” Sadie said.
    “And we will,” Zack said, “because your wish is my command.” Sadie laughed and Zack pulled her in for a hug.
    “No, really, it is,” he said.
    “Not a wise thing for a police chief to say,” Sadie said. “You never know what I might wish for.”
    Zack started to say, “Anything for you,” but was cut off by Mr. Bradshaw’s incessant barking. They looked at each other and hurried around the corner.
    At first, they couldn’t tell what he was barking at. They’d expected a deer or a bear, at the very least a squirrel, but there weren’t any obvious critters. There were rushes and shaded trees, plus the sparkling and eye blinding reflections where the sun did make its way through the trees and bounce off the water. But as they came closer it became only too clear. A woman was floating face down in the lake, her hair floating in a halo around her head.
    Zack jumped from the four-foot drop-off into the water and waded, hip high, to the woman. He flipped her, but didn’t start CPR. Even from the shore, Sadie could see the woman had been dead for a while. Sadie clipped the leash on Mr. Bradshaw and called 9-1-1. Zack towed the body to the shore where he left her floating, a piece of scarf twisted around her neck caught on his sleeve and he had to untangle himself from the strands before he climbed onto the shore. He stood at the shore pulling lake grass from his pants and dripping everywhere.
    “I called 9-1-1,” Sadie said. “Do you want me to go to your house and get some dry clothes?”
    “No. I’m fine. It’s more important that you be here. You never should leave the scene of a crime.” Zack looked grim.
    They sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk with Mr. B at their feet, waiting for the emergency response team to show up. A puddle was growing under Zack's feet, but luckily it was a warm day and he wasn't in danger of hypothermia.
    Sadie tried not to focus on the water, or at least not on the body in the water. It had been such a lovely day and she was a little disappointed that it had been cut short. But she told herself in this situation she was the lucky one - she was still alive. So her day with Zack was cut short, that clearly wasn't the worst that could happen.
    A party of cops and EMTs finally emerged around the curve in the path and descended upon them. An older officer shook hands with Zack and asked them to come back around the bend, out of sight of the floating corpse. Sadie thought it was probably for her benefit - as police chief Zack had seen plenty of bodies. Actually, Sadie had seen more than her fair share of bodies and was perfectly content to lead Mr. B away from the scene.
    They were out of Zack's jurisdiction, but he clearly knew the officer and the two of them fell into a technical discussion about decay that Sadie did her best to ignore. She and Mr. B moved further along the path and she gazed across the Lake while Mr. B sniffed in the rushes. Her mind was far away when she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the older cop standing next to her.
    "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't