Dr. Ruiz pulled a long thermometer out of his bag and lifted Denny's shirt. Mason watched as he made a small cut below Denny's rib cage and slid in the silver sensor to take the temperature of his liver. "I'll go online and check what the air temperature was here overnight," the doctor said.

"It was forty-two when I found him two hours ago," said Mason. "When we got home last night just before one A.M., it was forty-six."

The doctor slid out the sensor as he looked sideways at Mason.

"I look at the temperature almost as much as I check the time. I keep it on the front of my phone."

Dr. Ruiz twisted his lips. "I'll get the official weather records, but based on what you just said and his current temperature, he died shortly after you guys got back to the cabin last night."

"Thank you, Doctor," said a female voice behind them. Mason glanced back to see Detective Hawes listening carefully. She held out her hand to shake the medical examiner's. He slipped off his gloves and stood to take it. "We knew the window of time was short since the men returned just before one this morning," she continued. "And Detective Callahan found him at six, but it's good to know at what end of the window it occurred."

"I suspect the gash in the neck will be the cause of death, but don't quote me yet," said Ruiz. "The blow to the head was hard, but I imagine that came before the neck, and clearly he touched his neck while it was bleeding. I didn't find any bullet holes or other major injuries during my quick a.s.sessment, but I'll know more once I get him back to the center and get a solid look." He glanced at the ground near Denny's head. "I think he bled out right here. Did you find blood anywhere else?"

"No," said Detective Hawes. "No traces anywhere yet." She turned her direct green gaze on Mason and said nothing.

He felt as if he had a target on his forehead. Defensiveness swelled in his gut and he bit his tongue. He didn't need to prove to her he wasn't involved.

Yet.

"I'd like to debrief you now, Detective," Hawes stated. "How about we chat in my vehicle?"

In the front seat of her Ford Explorer, Mason blew on the cup of coffee that Detective Hawes had handed him. Someone had made a coffee run into Depoe Bay and managed to return with a big cardboard carafe of surprisingly good coffee and a stack of paper cups. Mason wanted to ask where they'd found it.

Not that he ever planned to return to Depoe Bay. The quaint little fishing town had lost its already thin appeal.

He'd met Detective Hawes the first day she transferred to Portland from Salem's Major Crimes. She'd been partnered with Henry Becker, but their desks were on a different floor since the primary detectives' room couldn't fit another desk. The separate floors had made for a slow get-to-know-you period. He'd been out of the office most of her second week on the job, but so far the feedback from the other guys was good. Everyone had commented that she looked like a young Helen Mirren.

Nora Hawes set her coffee in the cup holder and picked up a notepad. He watched her write his name on the first line and felt a drop of sweat run down his lower back.

Christ.

Self-directed anger swamped him. He wasn't an eighth grader who'd been caught breaking school windows; he was a cop whose close friend had been murdered. Detective Hawes hadn't said a word otherwise. She'd been polite and professional. His mind was circling the drain of guilt simply because he was now on the vulnerable side of the interview. He didn't like his position one bit.

"How long did you work with Denny?" Hawes asked.

"Almost ten years."

"You worked with him before he was promoted?"

"Yes. We even partnered for a short while."

"How was that?"

Mason kept his tone light, when he really ached to glare and snap at her. "Good. I'd want him backing me on a call." Hawes nodded at his statement. There were no stronger words to validate another officer.

"What was your first thought when you found him?"

The memory was fresh. "I wondered if the killer was still there. My next concern was for the guys in the cabin."

"They said you scared them to death when you woke them up by pounding on their doors."

"I didn't know what I'd find inside."

"Was the front door unlocked when you went outside this morning?"

Mason nodded. "It was. Surprised me. A cop will lock his doors even in the middle of nowhere."

"The evidence team hasn't found Denny's cell phone yet," Hawes said.

"We noticed it wasn't on him this morning."

"I have a request in to his cellular carrier for the last activity on his phone. They say this is the last location they have for the whereabouts of the phone."

"Someone took it," Mason stated the obvious. "And removed the battery or turned it off. It's probably at the bottom of the ocean by now."

"I agree. So far someone has covered their tracks. We haven't found anything that indicates how they arrived at the cabin or how they left. There's no soft dirt with tire tracks." Frustration furrowed her forehead for a brief second. "What can you tell me about the argument in the bar last night?"

"The five of us were at a table in Pete's Bar. We'd ordered a couple pitchers of beer but they hadn't come yet. No one had drunk anything at that point," he added, meeting her gaze. "Three guys came in and one of them spotted Denny. He came over to the table and started mouthing off about a dent he claimed Denny had put in his truck on a previous visit. Denny denied that'd he'd done it, but the guy was getting p.i.s.sed and his friend looked ready to start throwing some punches."

"Could you recognize them?"

Mason closed his eyes, clearly visualizing the three men in their twenties. All wore caps, heavy boots, and thick jackets. Facial scruff. One was a dirty blond and the other two had dark hair. "Absolutely."

"What happened next?"

"Everyone at the table had stood as the argument heated. I stepped between Denny and the main guy and told him I'd buy him and his friends a pitcher of beer if they'd leave us alone for the evening and take it up the next day. They backed off, and I gave the bartender twenty bucks to keep them supplied for a while."

"Pretty lame that a twenty quieted them down."

"I thought so," said Mason. "Made me think he didn't believe it'd been Denny who'd done it but felt the need to spout off about it when he spotted him."

"How often did Denny visit his cabin? Did the locals know him?"

Mason shrugged. "Dunno. In the office it seemed like he went to the coast pretty frequently. The bartender greeted him by name last night. I'd say people who live here know him."

"Did Denny dent his accuser's truck?" Her straightforward manner had relaxed him a bit.

She's looking for answers. Doing her job. It was an att.i.tude he understood.

"He told us he hadn't. He'd parked next to the guy's truck when he was in town last month. That day the guy had blown up when he spotted the dent and immediately turned on Denny. Denny told him then that he hadn't done it but could tell the guy didn't believe him."

"Were the three men drunk last night?"

"I could smell beer on the one I spoke to, but I wouldn't call them drunk. They'd had enough to be c.o.c.ky a.s.sholes."

"Sometimes reaching that level doesn't take much," Hawes agreed. She wrote on her notepad and the vehicle grew silent.

"When did you last see Denny?"

"It was about one thirty in the morning when I got to my room. Denny and I had sat in the kitchen alone and talked while the other guys went straight to bed."

Hawes nodded. Mason knew she'd already interviewed some of the men and would be looking for consistency across all the detectives' stories. "I told the other guys we'd just talked about fishing and the cabin. That wasn't true."

She lifted an eyebrow as she waited for him to continue, her pen hovering over her notepad.

"He wanted to ask me about my ex-wife."

Her lips twitched and the eyebrow rose higher.

"His ex-wife had approached him about giving their relationship another try. Both Denny and I are divorced, and he wanted to know what I would have done if my ex had said the same to me." A flush warmed his face. "I'm with someone else now, but I would have considered it if Robin had asked to get back together years ago. She was the one who struggled with being married to a cop and had to break loose-not me. Denny's been divorced as long as I'd known him, and I've never known his ex, Cindy. I wasn't in a place to tell him what to do."

"It depends on the two of them," Nora added. "Every relationship is unique because the people are unique."

Mason agreed. "He turned her down, but I think he was having second thoughts and worried he'd answered without thinking it through. He's had some other relationships, but they didn't last. He wanted to know-" He stopped speaking, suddenly embarra.s.sed.

"Know what?" Hawes asked when Mason didn't continue.

"He wanted to know how Ava and I were making it work. He seemed to think we'd found some secret." He gave a half shrug. "I told him we talk about everything and always keep the communication open." He shifted in his seat. He'd gone from feeling like a target to talking about his most personal relationship. He didn't talk to strangers about this sort of stuff. h.e.l.l, Ray was his closest friend and he only got to see the surface.

Ava had opened Mason's eyes. He'd believed he had a solid if slightly boring life, and he was good with that. But during a kidnapping case, she'd been immersed in his life and job. She'd infused oxygen into his simple existence. Once their case was over, he'd discovered he didn't want to go back to his life without her.

They'd had their ups and downs over the past year, but they were definitely in an up part of the cycle at the moment. Wedding plans were being discussed, her twin Jayne was in a good facility, and their d.a.m.ned kitchen remodel had finished only five weeks over schedule.

"Well, Detective Callahan, you've managed to surprise me. I didn't realize men had late-night heart-to-heart talks about relationships." She grinned.

"I thought you knew Ray Lusco."

Her eyes lit up. "You've got me there. Ray is definitely different. His wife is a good friend."

Mason had noticed she didn't wear a wedding ring. A lot of married cops didn't. They didn't want the sc.u.m they encountered to have any insight about their personal lives. He didn't ask if she was married; it was none of his business.

"You lied to the other guys because you didn't want to share what Denny had told you in confidence."

"I omitted one of our topics. We did discuss fish and his cabin."

"Did you know much about his ex?"

"No. I've heard about Cindy a bit here and there. Denny didn't b.i.t.c.h about her the way some guys do about their exes." He paused, realizing how little he knew of Cindy's temperament. Was she capable of murder? "He didn't tell me how she reacted when he refused to give their relationship another shot. Has someone contacted her?"

"Not yet. I'll go notify her in person." She made a note on her pad. "Do you know of any bad blood between Denny and his coworkers? I haven't been there long enough to hear any gossip."

Do you think any of the men from the cabin could have done this?

Mason had already picked apart this question. He'd done it first thing after finding Denny and again as Dr. Ruiz did his quick exam. "Between the four of us that are here, no. Absolutely not."

"And back at the office?"

"He's p.i.s.sed off a few people over the years. Who wouldn't in his position? Enough for one of them to drive to the coast and slit his throat? No."

"Not that you're aware of."

"Not that I'm aware of," Mason agreed. Everyone hid their true feelings. Especially cops. "I could be completely in the dark about a situation."

"Does the Pinhead mask mean anything to you? Was Denny a fan? Had you previously seen the mask in the cabin?"

"I'm stumped about the mask," answered Mason. "If Denny was a horror fan, I didn't know about it. And I definitely didn't see anything like that in the cabin." He strongly suspected the killer had brought it with him.

"Who knew the five of you were coming up here? Did anyone back at the office know? I knew because Denny had asked me to cover some of the schedule."

"Everyone knew. Getting the schedule arranged was a b.i.t.c.h."

She made a notation and then met his gaze, giving a small smile that signaled the end of the interview. "Thank you, Detective. Even though the circ.u.mstances suck, it was nice to talk to you more in depth than we have back at the office. And I'll say the standard line about letting me know if anything else occurs to you."

"You couldn't stop me."

Her phone rang and she glanced at it. Mason couldn't help himself and noticed DUNCAN FBI pop up on the screen.

Ava's ASAC Ben Duncan?

Mason decided to stay in the vehicle a few more minutes.

4.

Ava tapped her foot in the elevator. She'd arrived at the Portland FBI office near the airport with a full tank of gas and three texts from ASAC Duncan stating he needed to see her in his office the minute she arrived. Her instinct told her the FBI had finally been brought into the murder at the coast, but what could have changed within an hour?

She stepped off the elevator and dashed down the hall to Ben's office, not even stopping at her desk. His door was open. Inside, Special Agent Zander Wells and a female agent she faintly recognized were looking over Ben's shoulder at his computer screen. They straightened as she entered and she felt as if she'd stepped into a cloud of tension.

"What happened? Is it Mason?" she blurted.

"No, no!" Zander held up his hands. "Nothing like that. Relax."

Ben and the other agent echoed Zander's words. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "There's enough tension in here to make even my sister wonder what's wrong." The joke was weak, and sympathy flashed in Zander's gaze. He knew Jayne's narcissistic personality.

"Do you know Special Agent Mercy Kilpatrick?" Ben Duncan asked. "She's from Domestic Terrorism."

Ava shook the agent's hand, realizing she'd seen her briefly in the hallways. "What's happened?" she repeated. Introductions were nice, but she needed to know why Ben had texted her three times.

"Ben was giving me a heads-up on the OSP captain's death at the coast when a little more information came in." Zander exchanged a look with Ben. "The victim was found with a Pinhead mask over his face."

Ava nodded, processing the odd detail. Images of a pale movie character with pins arranged in a grid across his face floated through her mind. "That's a new one."