Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

“Portland.
     
    “Good for you. Makes my job easier. Paperwork?”
     
    “All but the case synopsis. I can fax it to you this afternoon.
     
    The whiskers twitched. “Meaning you want me to take your boxes and get out of your hair.”
     
    “I’d appreciate it if you’d save me the trip,” Caleb answered carefully. “I’m on my own here.”
     
    “You call the sheriff’s office?”
     
    In a one-man jurisdiction, the county sheriff’s department was your best resource. Which still put Caleb’s nearest backup forty minutes away by boat.
     
    98
    “Yeah. He’s accessing the NCIC missing persons database for me.”
     
    “I thought you said the victim was still alive.”
     
    Caleb massaged his leg absently under the desk. “She is. She’s not talking.”
     
    “Uncooperative?”
     
    “She doesn’t remember the attack. Or anything else.”
     
    Except him. She remembered him.
     
    “ What were you doing on the beach last night ?”
     
    “ Looking for you .”
     
    Reynolds scratched his mustache. “Not a crime to lose your memory.”
     
    “No.”
     
    “If she really did lose her memory.”
     
    Their eyes met a moment in perfect understanding. Female victims of domestic disputes often lied or claimed loss of memory to protect themselves or their abusers. If Maggie knew her attacker . . .
     
    Caleb shook his head. He wanted to trust her. More, he wanted her to trust him.
     
    “The doctor suspects concussion,” he said. “She may never remember. Which is why I’d really appreciate your help.”
     
    Reynolds shrugged. “I’m here. I’ll transport your boxes for you. But I can’t promise we’ll find anything.”
     
    They hauled cartons in the rain, in and out of Caleb’s Jeep, down the dock and onto the ferry. By the time they were done, Caleb was sweating under his yellow police slicker and his leg felt as though he’d gone three rounds with Vlad the Physical Therapist. But it was worth the pain to save half a day traveling to the crime lab in Augusta.
     
    99
    Caleb signed off on the evidence log and drove the two blocks back to town hall.
     
    “Edith.” He greeted her as he passed her desk.
     
    The town clerk looked up from her filing. “Antonia Barone is waiting for you.”
     
    Caleb stopped. “In my office?”
     
    Edith looked down her nose at him. “She’s not out here, is she?”
     
    “Right. Thanks.”
     
    Shit.
     
    At least Edith had warned him. Caleb had been a cop for nine years, a detective for six of them. He knew community relations were as much a part of the job as public safety. But when he was a kid, Regina’s mother, Antonia, had scared the shit out of him. Even now, she was intimidating.
     
    She was also his boss.
     
    He limped to his office and found her fidgeting in front of his desk, wearing an oversized jacket and a red slash of lipstick.
     
    “Mayor.” He greeted her cautiously.
     
    She snorted. “Let’s cut the mayor crap now. The only reason I took this job was because Peter Quincy wouldn’t serve a fourth term and the council couldn’t find anybody else to put up against that asshole Whittaker.”
     
    Caleb’s lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled out the ugly molded chair and gestured for her to sit. “What can I do for you?”
     
    She plopped down, fixing him with hard, dark eyes. “You can tell me what the hell is going on. Every idiot who’s dropped by the shop for a cup of coffee is saying some woman from Away got herself raped up at the point last night.”
     
    Caleb clamped his jaw. “There was an assault, yes. The nature of the woman’s injuries hasn’t been determined yet.”
     
    100
    Antonia scowled, clearly unsatisfied.
     
    “Summer girl?”
     
    The island population consisted of year-rounders; summer people, who came back to the island year after year; and tourists. Time and community service sometimes blurred the divisions, but they were still felt among the island natives.
     
    “First-timer,” Caleb said.
     
    Antonia nodded once.
     
    “Well, that’s something.”
     
    Caleb swallowed his anger. Antonia didn’t know Maggie, he reminded himself. An attack on a tourist struck at the islanders’ sense of safety and their wallets; an attack on one of their own struck at their hearts.
     
    “But it still doesn’t make us look good,” Antonia continued darkly.
    “It doesn’t make us look safe .”
     
    And public safety, her tone suggested, was his responsibility.
     
    He happened to