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Jack gave him a sideways glance. “That might not be concern for Rocky. That might be concern that someone else is going to find Vernon’s treasure before him.”

Given the lengths Tackle had already gone to obtain the coins, Ellery couldn’t argue with that. “Do we know anything more about those coins yet?”

“They’re definitely doubloons, whether genuine or fake. But no. I plan on giving Dr. Shelton at RIMAP a call tomorrow.” Jack added, “Like I said, Rocky might not have killed Vernon over the treasure. Brothers, cousins, whatever they were, fall out over a lot of things. Vernon was a notorious womanizer, so who knows? But the idea that his entire family wouldn’t be aware he’d found those doubloons defies belief. After he was gone, the whereabouts of the coins—and possible treasure—would be of topmost concern to the Shandys.”

Ellery nodded. He was watching Watson cautiously approach what appeared to be a large piece of driftwood in the road ahead.

Watson raised one paw and sniffed cautiously at the log. He backed up, dropped to his front paws, wagging his tail, and began to bark.

Arf. Arf. Arf.

“What’s he playing with?”

Jack frowned. Watson pounced to one side, then the other, barking all the while. A gull sitting at the other end of the…object took flight, squawking protest.

“Jesus Christ,” Jack said quietly.

“Ohno.” Ellery turned to him. “Is that—is that abody?”

He was speaking to open air. Jack was already running toward the—gulp—crime scene. “Watson,” he roared.

That was a tone Watson had never heard from Jack before, and he backed away so quickly, he did a somersault.

“Get out of here!”

Watson fled toward Ellery, who arrived seconds after Jack and stopped a few feet away. Watson stood on his hind legs, pawing Ellery, and Ellery hauled him up. His gaze was riveted on the man—definitely a man—lying facedown on the cracked pavement.

Red hair…big shoulders…big everything…dressed in black splattered with…

Ellery swallowed queasily. A horrifying red-brown stain surrounded and spread from the body.

“Don’t come any closer,” Jack warned him.

“Is he— Who is that?”

The look Jack gave him was so stark, Ellery felt as if a winter wind swept over him. He sucked in a breath, and Watson licked his chin. It took Ellery a moment to get enough air into his lungs to ask, “What happened to him?”

“It looks like he was hit by a tank.”

Ellery closed his eyes. When he opened them, Jack was gazing at him assessingly.

“You okay?”

“Swell.”

“I’ll stay with the body. You hike back to my vehicle and stay there.”

“Why?”

“Because you had a run-in with Tackle Shandy yesterday evening, and now he’s dead in what sure as hell looks to me like homicide. I don’t want anyone able to say you had access to this crime scene or could contaminate it in any way.”

Ellery gaped. “Is someone liable to say that?”

Jack’s look was pure exasperation. “It’s not like the entire police department hasn’t noticed you’ve been involved in A LOT of homicides since you arrived on this island.”

“I’m a suspect?”

Jack bit back what he started to say, settling for a relatively mild, “We were never apart from the minute Shandy left Captain’s Seat, so if you’re a suspect, I am too. But for everyone’s sake, go back to the SUV and wait for me.”