SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED. Suddenly the two police divers are before me vividly, horribly, suspended facedown inside the hull of the sunken barge.

Their names were Rick and Sam and I envision their dead young faces, their hoses dangling, their hair floating up in the brownish murky water as their eyes stared unblinking behind their masks. There were no bubbles. The regulators weren’t in their mouths.

I remember my disbelief, my electrifying explosion of adrenaline as I realized what I was seeing were spears sticking out of their black neoprene-covered torsos. It had been only minutes earlier that the men were alive and well, cheerfully checking each other’s dive gear, taking their giant strides off the stern of the boat and disappearing below the surface. I was joking with Benton about them flashing their badges underwater, making sure nobody bothered us or interfered with our mission. We had an underwater escort. We had underwater security.

Then they were dead on the bottom of the sea, ambushed, trapped, and I’ve never figured out what drew them into the hatch and down into the lightless hull. Why did they go in there? Carrie must have lured them somehow. Maybe she was inside waiting with the spear gun, blending with the rusty metal when she struck out of the abyss, and I hope what I always do. I hope they didn’t suffer as they hemorrhaged internally and drowned, and I feel conflicted. My thoughts are louder and more adamant as they argue in rhythm to the clocks.

GO STAY! GO STAY! GO STAY! GO STAY!

“Lapin supposedly started feeling bad, got a headache, a tickle in his throat,” Marino is saying as I will myself to listen.

Pay attention!

“He swung by his house for cold medicine and didn’t bother notifying the radio. At least that’s what he claims, and a few minutes ago he finally marked out sick.”

My intuition says we should leave and yet I can’t. I need to finish what I started. I’ll be damned if I’ll allow Carrie Grethen to interfere with how I handle a scene.

GO STAY! GO STAY! GO STAY! GO STAY!

“What exactly was Lapin’s understanding when he and Hyde left here this morning?” I ask Marino.

“That Hyde was going to grab coffee, borrow the john and then return here to secure the perimeter with crime scene tape like I told him to. Supposedly he was in a hurry because he wanted to do it before the rain started.”

“Unless someone else strung the tape across the front steps it would appear he did just that. He got started and then abruptly left. Look the other way please,” I tell Marino, and of course he looks right at me. “Turn around. Don’t look in this direction.” I begin to unbutton my shirt.