Chapter 1: A Boney Discovery

“Over there by the sand dune looks perfect. It gives us a bit of privacy,” Johanna Zay said, pointing toward a spot on Belle Beach.

“Privacy? I want guys able to see me. It’s why I bought my new bikini,” Hillarie Hayslip responded, shooting a questioning expression at her cousin. “If you wanted to hide, we should’ve hit Shandal Beach. Plenty of rocks there.”

“I don’t want to hide! I just need a bit of privacy while prepping for my videos,” Johanna explained, dropping her bag on the sand.

The sun wasn’t anywhere near its day's high point at only nine in the morning. Yet, the temperature already seemed on its way to matching the forecast-predicted triple digits on this mid-June day. Waves crashed against the shore with a rhythmic consistency. Shouts of triumph and defeat punctuated the air with the same rhythm as the waves. The sounds caught the girls’ attention, leading them to notice a group of beach volleyball players, their muscles rippling under the sun’s rays. The sand around their makeshift court churned into miniature dunes from their exertions.

As the pair of eighteen-year-old cousins planned to cool off near the shoreline while working on their tans and checking out guys, they nodded in agreement that the volleyball players met their latter criteria. So, they set about unrolling a large beach blanket with a small cooler at the end where they planned to lay their heads. Next came out several bottles of sunscreen and a paperback novel for Hillarie. The strawberry blonde preferred the traditional reading route, unlike her technology-obsessed cousin. Almost on cue, Johanna pulled out her cell phone.

“Hiya, y’all! It’s your fav, Johanna Zay, and we’re back for more Zay Time!” the chestnut brunette announced, pointing her phone at her face. “Today, we’re at the water’s edge in Edgewater.”

Watching her cousin chuckle at her wordplay, Hillarie rolled her eyes.

“It’s going to be a hot one here today. So, we’re going to discuss ways to beat the heat while taking advantage of the pleasurable sites of half-naked men at the beach. And I have quite the lineup of guests to help provide my subscribers with a wide range of tips. We’re gonna talk about the best ways to get that perfect glow while protecting your skin and hair. Remember: skincare is vital!”

Johanna paused momentarily for where she planned to insert a few pictures and links for several skincare products while editing later.

“Then, our resident flirt will stop by for another tutorial. I know you guys love her. Also, my cousin will showcase several delightful books for conversation starters with that hunk who just happens to walk by. We’re talking risque titles and covers that pique a man’s curiosity by screaming that you’re intelligent while open to a roll in the sand. But first…it’s fashion time!”

Stretching her arm out, Johanna passed off her phone to Hillarie, who continued to record. Flashing a toothy grin, the brunette reached behind her neck to untie her sarong. It seemingly floated to the ground, revealing a red and blue plaid bikini. The new swimsuit showed off the health-conscious teen’s medium-sized breasts and yoga-toned figure.

Winking at the camera, Johanna ran her hands down her sides for effect before raising them to the top of the straps. A quick tug caused her bust to bounce before she performed a slow turn. Another tug at the bottom’s sides flaunted her toned ass. Johanna turned her head to look over her shoulder for the grand finale while biting her thumb.

“What do you think?” the teen inquired after a cutting gesture.

“It looks like a schoolgirl skirt,” Hillarie commented, shaking her head slightly.

“I know!”

“Don’t you want to describe it?” the strawberry blonde asked, well aware her cousin usually liked to do so.

“Nope. I’m going to add a caption and link when I edit the video,” Johanna explained. She watched her cousin rub her fingers together. “Absolutely. A girl’s gotta hustle to get that teeny-weeny percentage, especially if my dad cuts my allowance more.”

“He still harping about your grades?”

“It’s been weeks since I got my report card. And now my mom’s gotten into the act. Some crap about spending too much time on my phone. It’s summer break!” Johanna exclaimed before holding up a finger. “Whatever. It’s your turn.”

Unsure about her opening pose, Hillarie tried three of them, as she wanted her lime green bikini to pop for the camera. Satisfied with the last option, she gave her cousin a thumbs-up.

“And now it’s Hill–Whoa! What do we have here?” Johanna questioned, cutting off the introduction for Hillarie after spotting three guys down by the water’s edge. She immediately recognized the sandy brown-haired boy and his dark-skinned friend. “My, my, it appears we have several North High football team members at the beach this morning. Yes, I definitely spot Luke Ridley standing with Andre Savard. Hmm, who’s that kneeling? I think, oh, I know that ass… it's Jake Magnum.”

While Hillarie threw up her hands in annoyance, Johanna’s eyes and camera phone zeroed in on the chiseled athlete with his dirty blond locks. She watched as her classmate showed off his arm strength by flinging a rock into the ocean.

“Hey, what about me?” Hillarie hissed. “Who cares about North High boys?”

“I do,” Johanna responded to the South High School student. “Yes, my faithful subscribers, I have some early morning eye candy as a treat. Don’t mind my cousin. She takes our rival high schools too seriously. That stud with the handsome Hollywood looks is Jake Magnum, my school's iron man. I know he’s not only called that for playing both tight end and linebacker for the Puffers. Hint, hint. Well-acquainted with the female population of North High, Jake is something of a local celebrity, thanks to his teen detective—shit!”

Johanna’s gasp matched Hillarie’s as Jake turned to the side, revealing a very tight pair of swim trunks. The notable bulge caused the South High Sea Wolf to reevaluate her rival school’s famous player. Both cousins’ shoulders sagged when Jake and his two friends entered the water, obscuring their waists. However, their eyes lingered on Jake's six-pack abs for nearly another thirty seconds.

“Damn,” Johanna sighed with disappointment. Although Jake stole her attention, his two friends weren’t slouches. She hoped to get up close and personal with them later. Before that happened, she needed to take care of business. “Okay, Hill, let’s shoot your shot. Why don’t you head up the dune?”

Nodding at the suggestion, the strawberry blonde walked onto the pile of sand. Suddenly, Johanna’s directorial eye had an inspiration. She quickly explained her idea of Hillarie playfully backing away from the camera and down the other side of the dune.

Hillarie gladly ate up her turn in the spotlight as Johanna re-introduced her cousin to her regular followers. Using her finger, she directed the teen to perform a twirl before implementing the agreed-upon move. Only Hillarie tripped after several steps in reverse.

“Good one, cuz,” Johanna giggled, racing up the dune. Immediately, she spotted an oddly dressed person on the ground beneath her cousin.

“What the hell, man?” Hillarie yelled at the person over whom she had tripped. “You can’t just lay there. Hey, let go of my foot—Aieee!”

Hillarie’s bloodcurdling scream pierced the early morning joy of Belle Beach.

---

“Yep. That’s a skeleton inside,” Jake confirmed, peering down through the helmet’s circular viewport.

“What should we do?” Mason Spurgeon, the lifeguard on duty for this beach section, asked. His head swung around as he looked for an answer.

“How old is that thing?” Luke wondered, ignoring the question.

“Old,” Andre replied, leaning in enough to see while maintaining a safe distance.

The three teens stood gathered around the long-dead diver. Additional onlookers milled around, gawking at the sight of the old-fashioned deep-sea diving suit. People usually don’t see that style of waterproof canvas suit with a brass or copper helmet attached to the top. With its glass faceplates at the front and on each side, the helmet seemed like something out of an old film.

“Early 20th or late 19th century, I’d say,” Jake guesstimated, touching what appeared to be a portion of a ripped-off air hose on the helmet. He noted another smaller hole on the diving suit’s upper front.

“It’s horrible!” Hillarie shrieked from about twenty feet away, where Johanna consoled her. “It grabbed my foot!

“The dead body didn’t grab your foot. You caught it under that thing when you tripped,” Johanna pointed out.

“No, th-that thing grabbed me!”

“What should we do? They didn’t train us for a situation like this,” Mason asked again, his voice’s pitch increasing. “Nobody trained me!”

“Call the police,” Jake replied before asking to borrow Johanna’s phone.

“The police?” the lifeguard screeched. “I’ve never called the police in my life. Ohmigawd! Will they put me in an interrogation room?”

The crowd’s volume increased at the mention of the police showing up. One young man with sandy brown hair and eyeglasses wouldn’t shut up with his loud questions about the diver. Those around him appeared to grow annoyed with his nonstop chatter.

The self-proclaimed influencer abandoned her cousin to dash forward to hand over her most prized possession. It never once crossed her mind to ask why Jake needed a phone or why he didn’t use it to call the police. Instead, he began to circle the diver, taking pictures from multiple angles.

Feeling useless, Johanna returned to Hillarie’s side, earning a dirty glare from the upset teen. Her movement caused her to miss Jake quickly send off a message before he resumed taking more pictures.

While murmurs from the onlookers increased and Luke and Andre debated the diver's age, Jake switched to videotaping the unexpected discovery. Only seconds into his recording did he hear a familiar sneer.

“That’s sick, Magnum. You need to seek help for your **** fetish,” the voice commented, cackling at the end.

“I’m busy, Rick. Go bother someone else,” Jack responded, not bothering to look over at Rick Valance, his school’s most notorious flirt. “If you don’t mind. I’m gathering evidence.”

“Ah, right. Playing boy detective again. Wait, wasn’t your name Boybody or something?” Rick inquired with false curiosity.

“You know it was Busybody, Inc., Rick, and we don’t call it that any longer,” Jake explained, finally glancing over at his longtime classmate.

His gaze immediately studied the pair of big-breasted blondes flanking each of Rick’s sides. Both appeared to be bottle blondes based on their slightly darker roots. Also, the young woman on the right definitely had breast implants. He noted the beauties didn’t appear familiar-looking. Jake quickly deduced they weren’t high school students, leaving Bentworth College coeds or tourists.

While not necessarily enemies, Rick viewed Jake as his most serious rival in his quest to bed every attractive girl at North High School. Despite being mainly a one-sided competition, Jake tolerated his longtime classmate because they had several mutual friends. However, he didn’t let Rick’s animosity toward one person slide—a topic the handsome golden blond swiftly switched to.

“Right, right. I apologize. You’re obviously playing centerfold photographer for your loser friend. He’s the one who can’t get a girl, so he looks at dead bodies,” Rick snickered. “Where is Phineas this fine morning? Still asleep in his coffin until the sun sets?”

“Don’t push it, Rick. Just leave,” Luke interrupted, knowing Jake’s feelings on the subject.

“But leave your lady friends,” Andre added, flashing a grin at the two busty bikini-clad blondes.

“Me? I’m not pushing anything. It’s Magnum who always gets outclassed by me because he lets that waste of space hang around,” Rick continued. “The freak scares away the hot ones.”

“Scared? Really?” Jake challenged, turning to stare at the newcomer. Out of patience, his usual friendly demeanor vanished as he started to march toward Rick.

“You went and fucked up now, Valance,” Andre chuckled.

“You were the scared one when you begged us to investigate your backyard. Or don’t you remember nearly pissing your pants because you swore it was haunted?” Jake questioned, halting nearly face-to-face with the other teen.

“Your house is haunted?” the blonde on Rick’s left queried with wide eyes.

“Not his house, his backyard. Rick claimed the ghost was out to get him. It moaned close to his bedroom window and even caused a branch to thud against it some nights.”

“Oh, no!” gasped the other buxom blonde. “What happened?”

“My friend swiftly realized that Ricky’s a fool and–”

“I was only twelve!” the heartthrob insisted, seeking to interrupt the revelation.

“Which is why you hate Phinn because he pointed out that we were all twelve and not five-year-olds, so you should probably know what an owl sounds like,” Jake revealed.

“You were frightened by an owl?” blonde-on-the-left asked, giggling.

“You should’ve heard him squeal like a pig when our other friend climbed up the tree and knocked on his bedroom window,” Jake added, twisting the knife a bit deeper.

“Fuck off, Magnum. You and that piss ant will get what you deserve someday!” Rick vowed, turning to drag away his two gorgeous accessories.

Luke and Andre shook their heads, with the former muttering about the likelihood of Rick whining for weeks after this insult. Further away, Johanna gleefully used Hillarie’s phone to capture the exchange.

“I’m getting such incredible footage, and it’s not even ten yet!”

Realizing that he’d still been recording, Jake ended the video. Promptly, he sent the pictures and videos to his phone. Unwittingly, he’d also given Johanna his phone number, which he’d semi-regret in the future.

“They never trained us for any of this. I can't perform CPR on a skeleton! What am I supposed to do?!” Mason screeched, pacing in circles as he’d entered full-panic mode.

Jake sighed while scanning the beach for another lifeguard. Not seeing one, he asked, “Did anyone call the police?”

Nobody replied affirmatively. Those with phones on them continued to snap pictures and videos of the dead diver. Wishing not to have his name connected to the strange mystery yet, Jake didn’t want to make the call.

“Oh, gawd! Am I going to get written up for this? How can I save someone already dead for years?” Mason moaned.

“Dammit, Spurgeon, call your boss or the fucking cops!” Jake ordered, already concerned about what cops might show up. Fortunately, he spotted another familiar female lifeguard walking over briskly from nearly forty feet away. A friend of his sister’s, Sydney Capshaw, could call the police. Which the athletic brunette promptly did after getting the lowdown on the situation.

---

“We’re almost there,” Pamela Farris announced unnecessarily, making another turn as they approached the oceanfront. Her two sons could hear the apparent glee in her voice, which annoyed them for different reasons. “Now, are you sure you don’t want to run home and grab a pair of swim trunks?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Phineas reassured.

“But why go to the beach if you’re not going to swim?” Pam followed up, concerned her introverted son wouldn’t fit in. She already worried about the pale, scrawny teen spending too many hours with his nose in books. The only times he appeared to interact with people happened during his meddling misadventures. “I’m sure Jake is wearing a pair.”

“I’m just meeting him at the beach. He’s already been there for a while, so we might not stay long,” Phinn said, making up the excuse on the spot. “I can always wear these shorts into the water.”

“But you won’t have anything to change into–”

“Don’t listen to him, Mom. He’s up to something. Probably another mystery,” Putnam suggested, emphasizing the last word sarcastically.

“Shut up, Pugsley,” Phinn shot back over his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that!” the younger teen spat back.

“Don’t say that, Putty. Your brother is going to the beach to socialize with his friends,” Pamela insisted, wishing it to be true.

“What friends?” the thirteen-year-old muttered from the back seat.

“That is the reason you’re going, right? You’re not looking to get into trouble again, Phinny, are you?” the worried mother asked. “We discussed you staying out of trouble now that you turned eighteen.”

“Jake’s down here with Luke and Andre. They don’t like mysteries, Mom,” Phinn explained. He ignored his little brother’s mumble about that not being a no. “You can just drop me off here.”

“I am not stopping in the middle of the street,” Pamela declared, turning the car into the city parking lot. Immediately, the presence of a police sports utility vehicle caught her attention. “Why are the police here?”

“Why do you think?” Putnam challenged.

“A couple of drunks probably got into a fight over a woman,” Phinn said.

“Drunks? It’s not even ten o’clock yet,” Pamela pointed out, checking the dashboard clock. Her voice began to ring with unwanted suspicion.

“I have been to the beach before and know boyfriends get paranoid about their girlfriends in small bikinis. It’s common sense, Mom,” Phinn insisted.

“Well, I guess,” Pamela murmured, recalling her past days of teasing boys at the beach in her skimpy bikinis.

“Wow, you know about dating?” Putnam teased with false awe.

“More than you know how to commit a crime and get away with it.”

“Don’t say that to your brother,” Pamela scolded. “Now, do you know why–”

“Thanks for the ride!” Phinn said, opening the door even before the car came to a stop.

“Wait! Take this,” Pamela insisted, handing over a twenty-dollar bill. “Make sure to get yourself something to eat. Don’t forget. You need more weight on your bones!”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t. Thanks!” Phinn yelled, already out of the car and speed-walking toward the beach.

He ignored Putnam’s continued comments as the younger teen switched to the front seat. Phinn figured he’d need another excuse once his mother saw the news about the diver. You get detained by the police a dozen or so times while working an investigation, and your mom gets paranoid. Why can’t she be absent-minded and focused on a job like Dad?

As he passed the police SUV, Phinn looked out of the corner of his eye and found it empty, which was a major relief. The police always got in the way and complicated his life, and they weren’t fans of the teen either.

The salty scent of the sea mingled with the sweet aroma of kiosks selling cotton candy and caramel popcorn caused the teen’s nostrils to twitch as he walked across the parking lot. Phinn groaned at the heat rising off the asphalt. He could already feel sweat forming around the edges of his dark brown hair. And the abrupt shift from the car’s air conditioning to the heat slightly fogged up his eyeglasses. Life often threw inconveniences at him while solving mysteries. Several appeared as skateboarders and rollerbladers whizzed past, nearly running into the annoyed teen. Even worse, a street musician strummed a guitar, the melody of a classic beach tune suffering a prolonged ****. To Phinn’s horror, the shabbily dressed hippie threw him a big grin. Raising a hand to his face, the people-shy teen stared straight ahead as he stepped onto the pathway.

Once he felt far enough away from the tip-seeker, Phinn performed a twirl, scanning the row of cars behind him. Fortunately, he continued to see only a single police vehicle.

“So far, so good,” he said, slowing his pace once the beach and ocean appeared.

A tapestry of colors met him on the beach, with families laid out their picnics, children squealed as they chased each other through the surf, and teenagers dared one another to conquer the waves. Phinn's eyes scanned the horizon, noting the seagulls where they circled, perched, and squawked, watching the activity below with discerning eyes. The crowd featured a mix of locals and tourists, their laughter and conversations forming a gentle noise that complemented the soothing sounds of the waves. The beachgoers ranged from the young and sprightly to the seasoned sunbathers, their skin a map of summers past. Phinn also wondered about their skin cancer histories. The vibrant hues of beach umbrellas created a patchwork of shade across the shore, while further down, volleyball nets and beach soccer goals were set up, surrounded by groups of friends engaging in playful or fierce competition.

Unable to spot Jake and the dead diver, Phinn paused momentarily at the last high point before the pathway descended toward the sand. His survey caught the sight of children nearby, their laughter filling the air as they meticulously constructed sandcastles. Armed with plastic buckets and shovels, the young architects worked tirelessly on their temporary fortresses. Each tower and turret was a testament to their imagination and youthful energy. The children's giggles grew louder as they approached the crescendo of their creations, the final touches applied with a flourish. Then, in a sudden burst of chaos, they turned into tiny demolition crews, dousing their sandy buildings with buckets of seawater. The castles crumbled under the onslaught, collapsing into the very sands from which they were born.

A slight smile formed on Phinn’s face as he fondly recalled his days as a young castle designer. Always armed with a story for each structure, they inevitably came crashing down due to Jake and Dusty’s tag team of siege invaders. That usually led to a stern lecture from Jake’s older sister, who was often tasked with the role of babysitter.

Phinn’s brief smile faded when he finally found the sight he sought. A lone police officer, his uniform stark against the casual beach attire of the surrounding crowd, stood about fifty feet from the teen. His eyes were glued in bewilderment at the old diving suit sprawled on the sand.

“Excellent,” Phinn said, recognizing Officer Wishkoski, one of the more gullible members of the Edgewater Police Department.

It didn’t take more than another two seconds for the approaching Phinn to find Jake. He stood with a young woman in a teal swimsuit that marked her as a lifeguard. It required a second appraisal before Phinn recognized Sydney, who he hadn’t seen yet this summer. They watched as Wishkoski scratched his hair in bewilderment. Phinn **** himself to be sociable and nodded at Luke and Andre as he pushed through a group of gawking onlookers who kept ignoring a male lifeguard to get a closer look at the diver. He stopped to do a double-take at a slim young woman. She appeared to be getting considerable attention from the men around, including Luke and Andre, due to her toned body, tiny baby blue bikini, and an eye-catching mole above her lip. What caught Phinn’s attention was her neck-length cotton candy pink hair.

“That was fast,” Jake remarked when his next-door neighbor reached him, still shaking his head over the pink hair.

“The second Wednesday of the month is visit Great Aunt Phillippa at the nursing home day,” Phinn reminded, coming to stand next to his crime-solving partner.

“Ah, right. Did Pug unhook any breathing machines this time?”

“Ventilators? Not this time, and he still claims it wasn’t working already. Like he’d know how to fix one.”

“Your brother is a regular Good Samaritan,” Jake declared deadpan.

“She did ask about her car,” Phinn said, his words holding an unspoken meaning.

“You know it’s still running. Your aunt sure asks about it a lot,” Jake replied about the old sedan.

“I’ve gathered that she expected you to kill it after Libby passed it down. Perhaps you can come with us next month and provide an updated history.”

“I treat it better than Libby ever did,” Jake insisted, turning toward her friend. “Tell me I’m right!”

“I’m not getting involved in this, Little Magnum. You’ll just go whine about it to your sister,” Sydney responded. “Besides, I need to help Mason with crowd control until more cops arrive.”

“Damn,” Jake mumbled, watching his older sister’s close friend walk away. His gaze zeroed in on her tight asscheeks. “What I would do…”

“Whatever. Your call ended our **** nearly forty-five minutes early. Mom is thrilled about my having a beach day with friends,” Phinn relayed, watching Wishkoski start forward toward the diver before having second thoughts.

“Aww, is Pam hoping I’ll find you a girlfriend?” Jake teased, unconsciously glancing over at Johanna and Hillarie.

“Shut it.”

“Hey, I bet your mom would back off if I mentioned the names of the girls you have crushes on.”

“I do not have crushes.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“We need to move Wishkoski away from the body before more cops get here,” Phinn stated, changing the subject.

“Especially The Ghoul,” Jake stressed.

“I’m hoping there is a dead body in town that expired more recently to distract him,” Phinn admitted before glancing over at his best friend. “First, what’s the deal with your swim trunks?”

“I don’t know what happened. They’re brand new!” Jake exclaimed, looking down at the extremely tight trunks. “You know, I think Libby shrunk them on purpose.”

“Why would your older sister shrink them?” Phinn questioned, emphasizing the word older.

“I don’t know! I went to wash them last night and—”

“Wait, you washed them yourself? Where was Esmeralda?” With Jake’s mother an in-demand attorney and his father busy running a small business, the Magnum family had a maid come in twice a week to help out.

“I forgot to ask when she was around for her day. But I did everything right. I used hot water and–”

“You used hot water for a brand-new article of clothing?” Phinn repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because they’re hot weather clothes,” Jake replied matter-of-factly.

“And you put the dryer on hot air, too?”

“Of course.”

Closing his eyes for a second, Phinn winced. He fought the urge to take off his glasses and pinch his brow as his friend knew that tell. Jake showed a lack of common sense, just often enough to qualify for the dumb jock label. Opting to hold off on a laundry lesson because they had almost a year until they left for college, Phinn re-focused on why he came down to the shoreline.

“Wishkoski has a strong sense of chivalry. Go have a girl faint or something to distract him,” the brainy teen directed. “And tie a shirt around your waist. We don’t need you getting arrested for lewd conduct.”

“It’s not that–”

“Yes, it is. Now go make somebody faint,” Phinn shushed his friend away.

“Right,” Jake nodded, immediately heading toward Johanna and Hillarie. He had to wait nearly a minute until the burgeoning influencer finished recording another video. Leaning in, he whispered, “Can you fake a fainting? Phinn wants to get a closer look at the corpse.”

“C-C-Corpse,” Hillarie stammered before finally succumbing to the stress.

After she fell to the sand, Jake turned away to flash a thumbs up at Phinn slyly.

"Officer Wishkoski, come here quick! She just collapsed!" Jake yelled.

“Oh, dear me!” the kindly officer exclaimed, rushing over. “Is she having a medical emergency?”

“My cousin is having a rough day,” Johanna explained.

“From the heat?” the cop inquired, kneeling by the teen.

“She’s the girl that tripped over the thing, Wish,” Jake reminded, watching Phinn casually stroll over to the diver.

His partner immediately threw up an annoyed hand to motion away an onlooker, who’d taken advantage of the officer leaving to rush forward for a selfie with the body. It wasn’t necessary, as Sydney barked at the selfie-seeker to not even think about it. Jake recognized him as the sandy brown-hair man who’d asked loud questions.

Phineas studied the diving suit first. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t find the circumstances strange at all. If anything, Phinn expected the unexpected on a daily basis. Instead, he focused on the scene's unusual elements. The teen detective noted the helmet and suit's discoloration while scanning the old canvas garment for wear and tear.

Satisfied with his initial appraisal, Phinn turned to estimate the distance from the water to the sand dunes. Despite Officer Wishkoski’s **** to get close to the strange discovery, the sand around the diver suffered significant disturbance from Hillarie’s panicked struggles.

Moving closer, Phinn wanted to better inspect the torn air hose and the skeleton’s skull inside the helmet. However, the disturbance he’d hoped to avoid occurred after only a few seconds.

“Back away from the crime scene, Farris!”

Phineas raised his head without moving to watch as the EPD’s most impatient homicide detective stormed over. Two additional officers accompanied him.

“Crime scene? How can a skeleton dead for over a century be a crime scene, Detective Gohl?”

“Don’t get smart with me, punk!” Gohl shot back as he grew closer. “Wishkoski, what are you doing?”

“Um, the girl fainted. She’s, uh, the one who found that thing,” the youngish cop explained meekly after rushing over to stand beside Phinn.

“And you let the brat–make that the brats–pull their meddling crap?” Gohl questioned, finally noticing Jake’s presence.

“B-but Jake–I mean, Magnum’s one of the kids that found the body.”

“How wonderful! You can be the person who explains how they already contaminated the crime scene when the chief arrives,” Detective Gohl threatened, now close enough to glare directly at Phineas. “Beat it, Farris, and don’t come back.”

“I’d still like your reason for believing this to be a crime scene, Gohl.”

“That’s Detective Gohl! Get the hell out of here! Or I’ll detain you for interfering with an investigation again, and this time, I’ll call your father and have them drag him out of his class to come get you.”

“It’s summer semester. My dad is busy doing his research,” Phinn responded. He added a cocky smirk before walking away toward Jake and the two girls.

“The whole **** can’t wait until you snooping brats leave for college,” Detective Gohl said as his parting shot.

Phinn nearly turned back to threaten to stay local, but Jake’s headshake stopped him. Of all the police department divisions, homicide and robbery tended to dislike the teen sleuths the most. The bunco and public relations sections weren’t far behind.

“We’d better scram before Chief Norberg arrives. I don’t need my mom riled up before Independence Day,” Phinn remarked.

“We got a spot further down the beach,” Jake revealed, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“We’ll move down by you,” Johanna announced while Hillarie looked ready to go home. The two girls started to gather their items with the police nearby.

Luke and Andre stayed behind to watch the new development while Jake and Phinn slowly walked toward the guys’ belongings. Seeing they had a few brief moments of privacy, they discussed the strange discovery.

“What do you think? How old is it? Is it a mystery?” Jake rattled off.

“I believe we do have a new mystery to investigate. I’d say it’s late 19th century, and I managed to spot multiple inconsistencies. Did you get a good look at the head? Is it fully clear of flesh?”

“Yeah, it looks like a skeleton. What inconsistencies?”

“The helmet appears to be brass and likely from the Gilded Age, I’d speculate. It had a decent amount of green patina on it, but for brass to be in salt water for that amount of time, it should be fully covered with it,” Phinn observed. “And while I only saw the front, the suit still appears fully intact. Normal wear and tear should’ve impacted the canvas more, not to mention sea life eating the body. And I’m not even adding in the normal putrefaction process. The gases released often cause a corpse under the water to float before sinking again.”

“Eww,” Jake sounded, his face flashing a disgusted expression. “Maybe the body was trapped in a sunken ship’s air pocket.”

“Doubtful. Yet, I won’t rule it out immediately,” Phinn declared. “Dammit, I needed more time to study it. Why couldn’t somebody have robbed a bank in town this morning? Or caused a hostage standoff? Anything to keep the police distracted for a few more minutes.”

“I guess it’s not our lucky day.”

“Also, high tide doesn’t come anywhere near those sand dunes. It’s unfortunate that a person tripping over the remains led to its discovery. I would’ve liked to search for footprints,” Phinn complained.

“So, how did it get there?”

“It didn’t crawl to that location.”

“It might have if it’s a phantom diver,” Jake said, adding the sound of a ghost booing. “It left the sea to get **** after all these years.”

“Don’t start,” Phineas responded, not laughing at the joke.

“I guess it can’t be a fake ghost. That’s a real skeleton inside, not a costume.”

“Finally, did you notice the hole?” Phinn asked, dismissing the idea of a fake phantom.

“The one on the chest?”

“Yes. It wasn’t jagged or ripped. The hole seems too clean for a tear over the years. If anything, it should be worse for that reason,” Phinn opined. “No, I don’t think that hole was caused by the body hitting a rock or wreckage. It happened on purpose.”

“Someone caused it?” Jake asked, hesitating over adding an additional question.

“My initial theory based on our limited evidence is that a bullet caused the hole. That leads to a secondary theory about the diver’s cause of ****,” Phinn speculated, lowering his voice. “A bullet directly into the heart is no accident.”

“You mean the diver was murdered!” Jake exclaimed.