Wicked Tempest: A Kate Waters Mystery (Kate Waters Mysteries Book 2) by Erin Cole Page A

investigation.”
    “There won’t be an investigation. The authorities will determine she was struck by lightning and that will be that.”
    Kate leaned over the counter toward Thea and spoke with a hushed voice. “But you said a storm is coming, and that more people are going to die.”
    The comment seemed to pull Thea from the casual attitude she had attempted to establish and back to truer feelings.
    “Leave it to me,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”
    Kate tossed back the rest of her gin, thinking of just how Thea might take care of it. How her sister Jev would have said the same thing. Jev and Thea were a lot alike, with their confidence, stubbornness, and troublesome secrecy.
    “I can see why my sister liked you,” Kate said. “Jev knew more than what was good for her and always tried to take care of things herself too. Plus, like you, though not as subtle, she would have told Andre to go lick his balls.”
    Thea laughed, then fell quiet. The mention of Jev bled a heavy silence between them. Her death had only been six months ago. Memories were still fresh, but starting to fade at the edges, like old newspaper.
    “You’re like Jev too,” Thea said. “Maybe not as outspoken, but you have that same deep strength and persistence that puts people on edge. I imagine Andre wasn’t expecting such spunk from you.”
    Kate disagreed, not remembering the last time she had felt strong or spirited. She turned away from thoughts of Jev and let her worry sink into that hollow place instead. “And what about the curse and the statue? How will you take care of that?”
    Thea placed her hand on Kate’s wrist and squeezed lightly. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
    “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
    “Do you still have Jev’s witchcraft books?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    “I suggest you do a protection spell. Just in case.”
    “In case of what?”
    Thea didn’t answer, and she wouldn’t talk any more about it, said she had to get back to work. Kate left Walter Biddy’s feeling even more anxious than when she went in. The trees had turned black against the deepening dusk and spread their dark limbs long. One of them snagged on the fabric of her unease and began unraveling it thread by thread.
    ***
    Four days ago, they had lost Jim in the gray waters of the Pacific Ocean. Keith woke more than once to the memory of searching for him in the storm. The seas were rough, the waves bigger than usual, and Keith had told Nick and Barry that it was either Jim or all of them. A twinge of guilt flexed at the back of his jaw, but he rubbed it away and reminded himself there was nothing he could have done. He had still made the right decision. One dead man was better than four.
    He sat down at his desk, tired from the two-and-a-half hour drive back from Newport. The station was quiet tonight, with most officers either out on duty or on call at home. A warm bottle of 7-Up, a ladder of sticky notes and return messages, an empty score card for the Blazers semi-finals, and a stack of police reports cluttered his desk. He sifted through the reports, then stopped, and flipped the folders shut. These things could wait. He had other priorities, like reading through the autopsy report on Jim that the medical examiner recently posted. As an assistant investigator to the homicide and detective division, Keith had login access to most records in the database, except for some of the classified ones, which he doubted Jim’s case would be filed under.
    He glanced out the window of his office, down the dimly lit hallway studded with framed police photos and plaques, to confirm he was alone, and then scanned through the details:
    Location of body: Rockaway Beach
    Time: 6 a.m.
    Approximate time of death: 3 a.m.
    Cause of death: fluid asphyxiation (drowning)
    Clothing on body: tattered wetsuit
    Items found on body: nothing
    Marks on body: Lichtenberg’s Flowers on back of neck, possible flashover burn from nearby lightning