Free Nocturne with Bonus Material by Deborah Crombie Page B

heavy cover at the water’s edge, followed an instant later by his partner Sarah’s golden retriever.
    The dogs bounced excitedly as Scott and Sarah appeared behind them, but neither dog ran back to its handler to signal a find.
    The handlers came to the bank, squatted, and reached out. Sarah’s voice, a little high, came over the radio just as Kieran made out what they were pulling free of the reeds. “It’s a boat,” she said. “We’ve found the boat.”
    It floated hull up, the distinctive colors—white with a thin blue stripe—visible from across the water. One slender oar was still fastened in its oarlock.
    â€œIt’s a Filippi.” Somehow it infuriated Kieran that Sarah didn’t know. “What—”
    â€œNo sign of the victim,” Scott chimed in. “And the dogs aren’t alerting strongly on either the water or the bank.”
    Kieran keyed his radio again. “Check the trainers.” He saw Scott look up at him, and even at a distance Kieran could see he didn’t understand. “Turn the boat over. Check the Velcro straps on the trainers.”
    â€œKieran,” said Tavie, “the boat’s evidence.”
    â€œJust do it,” he told Scott, ignoring her. Rowers slipped their feet into shoes that were glued to the footboard of the shell. And while it was possible to get one’s feet free without unfastening the Velcro closures—the shoes weren’t meant to be tight—Kieran felt an illogical hope that if Becca had released the tabs, she might have swum free.
    He saw Scott shrug, then lean forward, struggling to right the shell, soaking himself in the process. “You’ll have to release the oar,” Kieran said into the radio. “Just unscrew the lock.”
    Scott fumbled, his mouth moving in a silent swear, handing the pink-bladed oar to Sarah. Then he had the shell right side up and was peering into the stern. “They’re open, the Velcro things.”
    â€œOkay, don’t touch anything else,” broke in Tavie. “Scott, you and Sarah will have to stay there and secure the scene for the police. I’ll have another team leapfrog you on that side, as chances are they’re not going to find anything upstream. Kieran and I will continue on to Hambleden Lock on this side.”
    Scott gave her a wave of acknowledgment, but Kieran was already turning away, sending Finn out with an arm signal and the Find command. Tosh shot out to join Finn, a black and tan streak momentarily merging with Finn’s black silhouette, then she moved away from the Labrador, settling into her own search pattern.
    Kieran heard Tavie on the radio, the words unintelligible, fading as they were caught by the wind, then the crunch of her booted feet on the gravel as she jogged to catch up with him.
    â€œIf she kicked herself free, she could be caught somewhere, injured,” he said. “Or unconscious.” He scanned the opposite bank. There was no way to cross the river without going back to Henley or on to Hambleden Lock.
    â€œKieran, even if she did kick free, she’s been in the water all night. You know how cold it is.” Tavie’s fingers brushed his arm, slowing him until he had to look at her. “You need to leave the search. Now.”
    He saw that she wasn’t angry at his insubordination, but afraid for him.
    Shaking his head, he said, “I can’t. I’ve got to see—she might be hurt . . .”
    The drone of the chopper grew louder. Looking up, Kieran saw it downriver, moving slowly, inexorably, towards them.
    Tavie raised her voice against the increasing noise. “They’re not picking up anything on the thermal imaging.” She was telling him that if Becca was there, she was cold. Too cold.
    â€œShe could be hypothermic, under cover somewhere.” But they were passing the manicured grounds of the business college at Greenlands across the