“Good.” The chief tucked the watch back in his pocket. “Since you caught the call, you can take the lead on the inquiry. But I want you to work with Daisy. The medical examiner’s on his way and I’ve asked him to make this a priority.” He jerked his chin toward the EMS vehicle and the victim’s friends. “You can start by taking those two down to the station and taking their statements. Maybe you can get the truth out of them.”

“Do you want me to notify the victim’s parents?” Cody asked. He hoisted an evidence bag containing a wallet. “They’re just over in Appeldoorn.”

“No.” Chief Bryant squared his shoulders. “I’ll handle it myself.”

It was a tense ride to the station. The victim’s friends were in shock, white faced and shivering, still wrapped in the blankets the EMTs had given them. Although he’d donned his belt and boots, Cody was still soaked. All of them smelled like river water, and in a closed squad car, there was nothing at all pleasant about the odor.

“Who got to him first?” I asked softly. “You or the fire department?”

He shot me a look. “I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

A muscle in his chiseled jaw twitched. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

Pemkowet’s police station is small. We parked the victim’s friends in the front office under the supervision of the night clerk, while Cody ducked into the rear office to change into a spare uniform, summoning me to join him.

“Listen.” Unbuttoning his shirt, he stripped it off to reveal a lean, muscular torso. A flicker of inappropriate lust stirred in me at the sight of those washboard abs. Apparently even death couldn’t deter the Seven Deadlies in a hell-spawn. And Cody Fairfax had a treasure trail leading from his belly button to parts south. Great, now I’d have that image stuck in my brain. He shook himself all over like a dog, water spraying. “This is serious business, okay? So for now, just keep your mouth shut and take notes.”

“Okay,” I said mildly. “I’m not an idiot.”

Cody ran his hands over his damp hair, smoothing it. There was a hot, feral gleam in his topaz eyes. “This could be really, really bad for the community, you understand?” he said in a low voice. “All it takes is one incident to set off a lynch-mob mentality. It’s happened before in other places.”

“Is that why you’re so . . . private?” I asked.

He grimaced. “I come from a long line of people who like their privacy.”