Navy Orders. Geri Krotow
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girl she knew that someone at eternal rest probably didn’t look so startled. That was before she’d learned the nuances of eyebrow pencils. In retrospect Ro had figured out that the funeral parlor’s cosmetologist had mistakenly assumed that Aunt Ruby’s eyebrows should match her beauty parlor bleach job.
The sight of Petty Officer Perez wasn’t as bad as she’d expected, not at first. At least that was what she told herself. There wasn’t any blood; that much she could see from several paces out. Except for his face, he was clothed. As they approached his body and moved around it, she decided that first impressions were overrated.
The angle of his head was at once unnatural and revolting. It signified death as clear as any pool of blood would have.
As if a huge sasquatch had taken his head and twisted it around, his head faced into the beach gravel while his body faced skyward. She saw mostly the back of his head, but the large, black beach rock kept his head tilted at just the right angle to see his face with its bulging eyes in their final death stare.
Vomiting in public while in her uniform wasn’t an option, but she really wanted to. She averted her gaze and took deep, practiced breaths through her nose. Navy training paid off in so many different ways. How would she have guessed that learning to control her panic while doing swim qualifications in the helo dunker would keep her from throwing up at the sight of a dead sailor?
“First time seeing it this raw?” Miles’s voice wooed her back from the edge of her panic.
She let out a short gasp.
“Not all of us are in the field as much as you.”
“Not all of us sit behind computers and analyze data as much as you.”
His sharp words startled her. Anger replaced shock.
“Please don’t slip into your Cro-Magnon persona now, Warrant. You actually had me thinking that maybe you respected me as a partner in this investigation.”
“I respect hard facts and someone who knows what facts I need.”
The fact that they were actually sparring over the difference in their military occupations while Petty Officer Perez’s body lay yards away catapulted Ro from nausea to anger.
“You didn’t have a problem with my career choice when you asked me out.” There, that would shut him up.
“I wasn’t asking LCDR Brandywine out on a date. I was asking Roanna, the woman whose mother has a crazy cat, and who was new to Whidbey. I knew we could be friends.”
She met his eyes and steeled herself to outstare him.
“You didn’t know anything about me when you asked.” He still didn’t.
“I’m good at reading explosives.”
With her eyes still locked on his, her anger started to melt into something more visceral, more sensual.
Desire.
In front of Perez’s body. Self-loathing made her stomach churn again.
“This is sheriff’s business only, people.”
Miles broke their stare-down and turned to the man in civilian clothes who was flashing his Island County badge at them.
Get a handle on yourself, girl.
The detective was tall and blond like Miles but with longer hair and not quite as muscular, and his physical appeal wasn’t missed by Ro. Obviously he noticed her, too, as his gaze lingered a bit longer on her than Miles as he checked them both out.
“We’re from the wing, Detective. We’re just here to observe and make sure Petty Officer Perez’s remains are handled properly.” Miles spoke with authority. It was clear he didn’t expect much resistance from the detective.
“IDs?”
Miles and Ro whipped out their military identification without comment. Before September 11, 2001, a uniform was enough identification. Not anymore, as it was too easy for a terrorist to get a uniform and try to pass himself off as a good guy while attempting to take down a military base.
“Okay.” He handed them back their IDs. “I’m Detective Ramsey. You can stay as long as you don’t get in the way. Don’t ask questions, and for God’s sake don’t contaminate any evidence. Stay out of the taped-off area. Perez has already been assigned a CACO, as I’m sure you know.”
The detective was trying to push their buttons. Searching for a hole in their explanation.
“Yes, he has, but the CACO’s job is primarily with the surviving dependents, as I’m sure you know.” Ro didn’t want to start off under the shadow of the Island County sheriff’s doubt. They’d most likely need information from him at some point, and would have to build trust with Detective Ramsey right from the get-go.
She offered him a smile.
“We appreciate what you’re doing here, Detective Ramsey.”
“Do you, Commander Brandywine?” He looked over his shoulder at the water for a brief moment before he resettled his ice-blue gaze on Roanna. The man knew the navy and he’d memorized her name already.
“Then you’ll appreciate it when I tell you that if you hear anything in the next few days about Perez, his friends, family, whatever, you’ll bring it to me.”
“That’s a job for NCIS, isn’t it, Detective?”
Miles’s voice held an edge. Ro got it. First the detective had told them to be impartial, uninvolved observers. Now he was asking them to provide him with information, possibly privileged if not classified information.
“Of course. And my team is questioning everyone, as well. But since you’re both insiders, and here to ‘represent the wing―’” he paused, his brow raised as if he knew exactly what they were doing “—there’s a good chance you’ll stumble across something I won’t. People may be more willing to open up to you. And since I’m allowing you to stay and observe this part of the investigation, it’s only fair that you make me privy to whatever insights you glean.”
“We report to the wing commander, Detective.” Ro’s anger bit at the back of her throat. She was willing to play nice but she had her limits. This civilian really thought they’d enter into some kind of private deal with him? That they’d tell him something before they told their chain of command?
“LCDR Brandywine is correct, Detective, but of course we’re open to information sharing. We’re all after the same results.” Miles was smooth and unemotional.
Detective Ramsey nodded.
“Good.”
They exchanged business cards before the detective walked away. No doubt his mind was already back on the case. Ro waited until Ramsey was out of earshot before she faced Miles.
“Are you crazy? I’m not going along with your method of doing business, Miles. You’re going to get us both a court martial!”
“Get a grip, Ro. All Ramsey asked is that we help him out if we can. There’s no harm in that. Plus, in your usually overanalytical manner, you’re missing the big point here.”
She sighed.
“Which is?”
“On the off chance that this isn’t a suicide, then someone at the wing may have killed Perez. The detective knows that the navy will circle its wagons if this becomes evident. He’s pegged us as his way in.”
Someone they worked with, killing Perez in cold blood?
She shook her head.
“Doesn’t matter. It is a suicide and, bottom line, we report to the commodore.”
“Of course we do. But it doesn’t hurt to make friends when we can. No matter how certain we might be that this is probably a suicide, we’re not the experts with the evidence. The sheriff’s