Tim’s boat, the Safe Passage, looked fine from the outside, but there were uniformed cops trampling all over it. Marta spotted me on the edge of the crowd, grimaced, and charged my way. I waited for her, my hands buried deep in the pockets of my jeans. I had a client up to something and a jet-lagged nun with a secret sitting in my car. An angry Marta gave me the trifecta.

At five six, two hundred–plus pounds, Marta Pena was a force to be reckoned with under normal circumstances. At a hectic crime scene, she was hell on wheels. We’d worked together on the job. I knew her family, her kids. But from the look on her face, I could tell our conversation wasn’t going to be convivial. She reached me, pulled her notebook from her pocket, and slid a pen out from between the pages. Her radio crackled, codes being called in between all the static. All business.

“Raines.”

That was her greeting, delivered gruff. I’d kind of expected more, given the rudeness of the hour.

“Pena.”

“Where were you a couple hours ago?”

I looked out over the lake, which was little more than a large pool of undulating ink in the predawn darkness. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour or so. “What happened over there?”

Marta’s dark, almond-shaped eyes went flat, her thin lips pursed. “Answer the question, please.”

“Until about twenty minutes ago, I was in bed. Why?”

“Alone?” she pressed.

Our eyes held until I got tired of holding it and let her have it. “Yep. Had I known I’d need an alibi, I’d have cruised by the bars and picked up a fella.”

“Cut the crap, Cass. This is official business.”

“That I’m getting from the mad cop face. Who died?”

“You’re saying you don’t know?”

“Marta, I was fast asleep in my own bed, alone, in answer to your earlier question, less than a half hour ago. Now I’m here, fast awake, waiting for you to tell me what the hell happened. If you really can’t take my word for it, I have a houseguest sleeping in my spare room who’s honest as the day is long, though she’s acting a little wiggy at the moment. She can vouch for me. She’s right over there in the car.”

She glanced toward the lot, then let it go. “So you just happened to catch wind of this and headed right down here?”

“Catch wind of what?”

She shook her head. “Me first.”

“Okay, I got a call.”

“From?”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “Not till I know what we’re talking about.”