Page 2 of Don't Say a Word

“Four to six hours.”

Rachel glanced at her watch. “Likely after midnight. Call the ME, they can take the body. Officer... Morales?”

“Yes,” Josie said.

“Did I see that the park rangers called this in?”

Josie nodded. “They found the body at 5:35 a.m. My partner and I were first on scene at 5:45.”

Josie followed Rachel’s gaze as the detective looked up and down the park. Martinez lay against a tree west of the small gazebo and playground area. The rest of the park was open space, grass, paths, and a community garden. The body couldn’t be seen from the road, but it would have been seen from the main east-west trail before it forked north and south.

Ifsomeone was paying attention, Josie thought. She’d encountered runners who put in their earbuds and looked straight ahead. If someone saw the body, they might assume homeless. But the park rangers rousted the homeless from the area early every morning.

Nico said, “The ME will have a van here within forty-five minutes. I’m going to inspect the playground.”

Drug addicts often left paraphernalia in the area they partied. The park would be overrun with kids this morning before the heat drove them indoors.

Josie joined Nico. He handed her an extra rake and together they combed through the sand, looking for pills, foil that might contain drug residue, needles, and anything else that might be a danger to little kids.

“How’re things?” Josie asked.

“Good. Just lost my intern.”

“Theo?” Theo Washington was a nineteen-year-old student going through the forensic science program at Paradise Valley Community College. He worked part-time for Nico’s sister—and Josie’s best friend—Margo.

“His internship ended yesterday, and he starts classes next week. I tried to get him hired part-time, but it’s not in the budget. Fortunately, I’ll have first dibs on him in May when he graduates. While he sometimes jumps to conclusions—probably Margo’s bad influence—” he added with a smile “—he’s detail-orientated and takes direction well. Doesn’t mind tedious work.”

“Shouldn’t you give Margo credit for his positive skills as well?” Josie said lightly, knowing Margo and Nico loved ribbing each other.

“And further enlarge my sister’s already big ego?” He laughed. “Anyway, his computer skills could be better—I thought everyone in his generation were tech gurus. He’s adding an extra computer class at my suggestion.”

“Is he still working for Margo?”

He nodded. “We had dinner last night and she gloated about it.”

“You’ll be gloating in May.”

“Damn straight,” he said. “She won’t mind. The city can pay Theo far more than she can, and it’s a great career. Plus, Theo is motivated.”

They found two used condoms—both older than twenty-four hours, per Nico, so he tossed them. One foil that seemed old but had what was likely fentanyl residue, so he bagged it. And a knife, which he also bagged, though it didn’t appear to have blood on it. Probably fell out of someone’s pocket.

“You think this is an accidental OD?” Josie asked Nico as she tossed a broken beer bottle into the trash can.

“That’s up to the ME.”

“We’ve enough of them,” she commented.

“Yeah, we do. I wish we could find whoever left him to die, though no one will prosecute.”

“Bingo,” Josie said. Generally, if an individual left someone to die when that person could have been saved with prompt medicaltreatment, it would be charged as a misdemeanor, if charged at all. It was a debate they’d had at their grandfather’s house on occasion—moral, ethical, and legal ramifications of action versus inaction. Retired Judge Hector Morales loved to play devil’s advocate. He could argue any side of any issue effectively, and was brilliant at seeing different angles. He’d been a respected jurist for more than forty years.

“Doesn’t make it right,” Nico said.

“I’m with you. You know, Sun Valley High School won’t have a school resource officer until October. I can probably get permission to talk to the students, especially since the kid went there.”

School resource officers worked for a special division of Phoenix PD and, depending on funding levels, would be assigned to high schools in the region. Josie had applied for the program, but hadn’t been accepted into one of the limited slots. She’d apply again next year.

How did she explain she felt invested in finding out what had happened to Elijah Martinez? “I’ve seen dozens of ODs since I’ve been a cop—six in the last two months alone,” Josie said. “But this kid is the youngest. How did he end up here?”