Unlike the men in the tent, my patented glare didn’t faze her. Otherwise her tail would have seared like a pan-fried salmon fillet.

“Harlow is a commercial diver. She’s our inland waterways consultant,” Comeaux offered. “She’s on loan from St. Augustine.”

A mermaid living on a peninsula. Color me surprised.

Comeaux coughed into his fist. He might have been laughing. I wasn’t sure which one of us was the butt of his joke. Then I realized I had spoken out loud. Fudge. So much for interdepartmental cooperation.

The girl scraped dirt from under her nails. “Where are you from?”

“Three Way—”

Laughter burst from her tiny bird’s chest. “Is that on a map or a life choice?”

“—Tennessee,” I ended flatly.

She sat there, gazing up at me, eyes sparkling. Maybe she expected me to bristle. But the Three Way jokes had gotten old thirty seconds after I signed the lease on my slot in the Three Ways from Sunday RV park. So, yes. Three Way, Tennessee. Home of people cursed to insta-judgment and pervy stares for sharing their home address with strangers.

“Can you email me scans of what you have so far?” I asked Comeaux, electing to ignore Flipper. “When you get the autopsy report, I’ll need a copy of that for my records too.”

“Already working on it.” The elf pulled a phone from his pocket. “All I need is the address where you want it sent.”

I passed Comeaux one of my business cards and tapped the fine print. “Use that one.”

The elf punched the address into his contacts with his thumbs faster than I could have with all ten fingers. “Done.” He pocketed the card. “The results will take a few days.”

“Not a problem.” Buzzing at my hip made my heart skip. I excused myself and turned my back to reinforce the illusion of privacy. “Ellis.”

“Check your email,” Magistrate Vause ordered in lieu of a greeting. “A marshal outpost in Wink, Texas has reported the discovery of an apparent drowning victim matching our killer’s M.O.”

“That’s not possible.” The scents of water and decomposition swamped me, and the back of my throat began to tickle. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours since his last victim was identified.” His victim, because the magic signature vibrated with distinctly male undertones. “Charybdis is precise. He’s not going to deviate now. There are also geographical considerations.”

The pattern of his attacks was moving in a clockwise motion through southern states. Texas was a stretch.

“That is your opinion, and it will remain speculation until you verify or invalidate this latest incident.”

I smoothed the curve of an eyebrow with my pointer finger, mentally bracing to see another waterlogged corpse so soon. “Give me ten minutes.”

“I’ll be expecting your report on the Villanow incident.” She ended the call with a decisive click.