Page 13 of Slack Tide Kill

Sally ignored her. "Did you look outside last night, Mr. Whateley? Did you see anything?"

A flicker of unease came into Whateley's milky eyes. "No. I don't look out to sea."

"Officer, can you share the victim's name?" the reporter called.

"One more question," Sally said, pointing. "The Crab Shack over there, do you know who runs it?"

Whateley peered. "Crab shack?"

"There."

He frowned. Sally saw no recognition in his eyes. "I never heard of a Crab Shack."

Sally glanced past him. On the walls of his home, she saw family photographs. Him as a younger man. A wife and two children.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Whateley."

She turned and walked back down the driveway. The reporter was waiting, one hand extended. "Tania Brown, with the Gaze."

Sally flinched slightly. The Gaze, again. Brown's lipstick was clamshell pink, her cheeks as sharply contoured as topographical lines on a map. She was surely older than she looked, mid-30s at least, but playing the game.

"Talk to press liaison," Sally said.

"Come on," Brown pressed. "Woman to woman, give me something."

"No comment."

The next house over was padlocked on the outside. Maybe a holiday home? She hammered on the door but there was no answer.

"You can't be her," Brown said as Sally passed back by. Her phone was raised and she was looking between it and Sally. "The Yank with the NCA."

Sally kept walking.

"You are, aren't you? You're the Bulletproof Belle!"

Sally felt those words twisting at her insides, but pushed on without comment. The third house sat higher than the others, modern timber with glass balconies turned opaque from salt. Sally pounded the door and a young woman opened it, curls whipping around her face, wearing a revealing pajama top.

"Oh," she said brightly. "Hello?"

Sally began her opening spiel, but the girl's eyes just darted at Tania Brown and her camera. "Are they allowed to, um, film me like this?"

"They are. If you'd prefer, we could go inside."

"No, that's fine." She flashed a smile at the cameras and waved. "Hello, Jakey!"

"Ma'am, your name?"

"Sure. Amelia Brig." She sobered. "Jake's my fiancé. On a trawler out there somewhere." She waved vaguely at the Channel. "You said they found a body?"

"That's correct. Did you hear or see anything unusual last night? Possibly around 3 a.m.?"

Brig's eyes screwed up. "Last night? Not really. Except maybe, yes. I think I heard dogs?"

A switch clicked over in Sally's head. "Did you see them?"

"I didn't look. Like I said, I was sleeping."

"And do you often hear dogs in the middle of the night?"