Page 113 of Riptide
"Thanks for the call." Gabe shook it, grip firm. "Sent my people back to town. You've got more resources than I do—figured they'd just be in the way."
"Appreciated. Your officer Torres has been helpful. Sharp eyes on that one."
"She's good." Gabe glanced around at the state police techs methodically working the scene. "What else do we know since this morning?"
Tyler turned toward the overlook, gesturing at the guardrail. "ME confirmed what we suspected. Victim didn't jump and didn't slip. Bruising pattern on her upper back and shoulders is consistent with a hard shove from behind. She was pushed."
Gabe stepped closer to the rail, looking down at the rocks where Blaire had landed. The dark stain was smaller now, the tide creeping higher with each wave.
"Time of death?"
"ME's narrowing it. Preliminary window is between 2200 and 0100. Body temperature and lividity suggest earlier in that range rather than later."
After Gabe had visited her at the hotel, warned her about the brake lines, listened to her gloat about destroying Cara. She'd been alive then—viciously, confidently alive.
Tyler pointed to a section of the guardrail about ten feet to their left. "See those scuff marks? Fresh. And there—" He indicated a patch of disturbed gravel near the edge. "Footprints, partially obscured. We're casting what we can, but the wind's been working against us."
"Two sets of prints?"
"At least two. Hard to be certain, though. This is a popular turn out, and it hasn’t rained in weeks." Tyler shook his head. "It’s like you suggested. She definitely came out here with someone. Or someone followed her. Either way, she wasn't alone."
The wind gusted, carrying the smell of kelp and brine. Gabe stared at the guardrail, trying to picture it. Blaire standing here in the darkness, confident and cruel, probably gloating about something—her power, her plans, her invincibility. And then a sudden shove, a moment of weightlessness, and the rocks rushing up to meet her.
Had she seen it coming? Had she known, in that final second, who had killed her?
He found he didn't feel much either way. That bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
"What do you have on the victim?" Tyler pulled out his notebook. "You said she was connected to an ongoing investigation."
Gabe took a breath. This was the moment. The line he couldn't uncross.
"Her name is Blaire Mitchell. Professional skip tracer on the surface—reuniting families, finding lost relatives. But that was the cover story." He turned away from the rail, facing Tyler directly. "Underneath, she was running a blackmail operation. Found people's secrets, then bled them dry to keep quiet."
Tyler's pen paused. "How long have you known about this?"
"A few days. One of her victims came forward. Cara Sweet actually." Gabe kept his voice steady, professional.
"And you didn't arrest her?"
"On what charge? Cara wasn't willing to press formal complaints, and neither were Blaire's other victims—that's how the operation worked. She picked people with secrets they couldn't afford to expose, even to law enforcement."
Tyler absorbed this, his expression unreadable. "So your baker had motive."
"She had motive," Gabe agreed. "She also has an alibi. Four witnesses who were with her from 2100 last night until after 0100. They were waiting for Blaire to follow through on a threat—a midnight deadline. When nothing happened, they assumed she was playing mind games."
"Four witnesses."
"Four reliable witnesses. I can give you names and contact information. They'll need to give formal statements, but I spoke with them this morning. Stories are consistent."
Tyler tapped his pen against the notebook, studying Gabe with those patient, perceptive eyes. "Cara Sweet. Your baker." A hint of recognition flickered across his face.
Tyler let that sit for a moment, then his expression sobered. "And now she's a blackmail victim whose blackmailer just turned up dead. That's quite a coincidence."
"It's not a coincidence. It's a motive—one she shares with a couple dozen other people Blaire was squeezing." Gabe held his friend's gaze. "But Cara didn't do this. She has four witnesses who were with her all night."
"You have a personal relationship with her."
Gabe didn't insult his friend by denying it. "I do. That's why I'm telling you everything up front. I'm not going to hide evidence or lie to protect her. But I'm also not going to let her become a convenient scapegoat because she's the obvious choice."
