“Flash flood. Gee Samaritan, you sure know how to have a banner day,” T-Bone said, teasing her.
Sam shook her head. “Don’t I know it.”
Sam got comfortable to the extent possible in the small space under the bridge. Sam looked over her notes.
T-Bone gave up his search of the hole and joined her. He flipped through his own notes.
“Ha,” he commented.
“What?” She had to yell. The sound of the rushing water and the continuing rain made it hard to have a conversation.
“Do you think Larry the homeless guy is the victim or the perpetrator?”
“The body was near his home. He is not in evidence. He’s got a shirt with a suspicious stain on it.” She shrugged and watched the brown water and debris flow past. The water was probably ten feet deep and covered the entire width of the wash. They were no in danger of being swept away, but there was no way they were going to cross it – not for a while. The side of the wash they were on didn’t have any walkways or ledges.
“If his head is out there, it’s probably to Grant Road by now.”
“If the body was a him. I couldn’t tell, could you?”
Sam shook her head and tried not to think of what had torn the body apart. To her not-medically-trained eye, the body had looked ravaged rather than cut up.
“Do you think I should call Dr. Rausch?”
“Not yet. But we should probably check in.”
“Oh yeah – that’ll really make the Captain love us. ‘Detectives caught in flash flood. Swift water rescue caught on video by local news crew.'”
“News crew?”
Sam pointed across the river at a shape that could have been the E-Witness News van.
T-Bone cursed.
“Maybe they can’t see us.”
Sam scanned her brief notes.
“Let’s play what if.”
T-Bone rolled his eyes.
“What? You have something better to do? Maybe see if Larry has a Twinkie stashed somewhere?”
T-Bone shook his head. “Okay, but I get to go first. What if the body was Larry’s? He was out taking a dump in his sandbox when the neighbor-lady,”
“Mrs. Tremble.”
T-Bone nodded, “When Mrs. Tremble shot him for being, well, a bum.”
“And how did he become less than an entire man?”
“She set her vicious little dog on him.”
Sam groaned.
T-Bone laughed.
“Okay. My turn, smarty pants. Larry was talking with our boy Ty, and made improper advances. Ty, being a smart kid, rode home on his bicycle and got a chainsaw. He returned, caught ol’ Larry in his sandbox, as you say, and took a chainsaw to him. He comes back up here, wipes the blood off with Larry’s shirt and drops his phone. He takes off home and tells his mother he’s been at Johnny’s house the whole time.”
“Chainsaw huh? Let’s see.” T-Bone crawled into the hole again. He returned a moment later, a candy bar wrapper in his hand.
“No chainsaw, but I did find a Reese’s wrapper.”
They watched the rain for a while.
“We need that head,” Sam muttered. T-Bone nodded.