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Cody shifted in his chair and unclipped the badge and slid it across the desk to Tubman. He pulled his Sig Sauer and handed it grip-first to Bodean. “Careful,” he said, “it’s loaded.”

Bodean walked the weapon over and put it gingerly on top of a metal filing cabinet. He said, “You are officially on administrative leave with pay. We’ve got a call in to the state to send an outside team to investigate the incident. They’re likely to be here tomorrow, so stay in touch with us at all times.”

Cody nodded.

“Don’t go anywhere for seventy-two hours. That’s when we’ll take your statement and based on what the state criminal investigation team says, you might be placed under arrest.”

Even though he knew it could happen, Cody felt a chill crawl through his scalp.

Said Bodean, “It’s my duty to advise you to keep your mouth shut until you give your official statement. At that time, you should be aware that under Garrity versus New Jersey, you may be disciplined if you refuse to answer questions about your conduct on the job. You have no Fifth Amendment rights as a cop. In the meantime, the only person you should talk to is a peer counselor we’ll assign. Do you understand what I just said?”

“Yeah, but I don’t mind talking. And if you send a social worker to my place I’ll mace him,” Cody growled. “It went down exactly like Carrie Lowry wrote in the paper. Skeeter drew first and fired after I told him to freeze. I shot him in self-defense.”

Tubman continued to shake his head, as if he were watching his career slink away.

Bodean said, “She wrote that you didn’t identify yourself.”

“I didn’t get the chance. Skeeter was fast for a ghoul.”

“You refused to take a breathalyzer test.”

“It’s my right. I don’t trust those portable things. I took one later here at the station.”

“Hours later,” Bodean said, “after the alcohol in your system had a chance to metabolize. And you still came in a.88. That’s barely sober and it was four hours after the shooting. And the officer on the scene said you smelled like a still.”

“Dougherty wouldn’t know a still if he tripped over it,” Cody said.

“You’re lucky Skeeter was wearing a vest. Your first slug hit him here,” Bodean gestured toward his heart. “The second one was above the armor and really messed up his shoulder. But he should be okay and giving press conferences any time now.”

Instinctively, Cody reached up and touched the compress taped over his right ear where Skeeter’s round had clipped him. The bullet had taken a half inch of his earlobe and the wound bled like crazy until they got it stopped.

After the emergency room docs had bandaged and released him, he’d tried to talk to the coroner, who was upstairs in the same hospital. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to yell at Skeeter or apologize or shoot him again. He didn’t get an opportunity to make the choice because a hospital security officer wouldn’t let him past his desk until visiting hours.

“Why in God’s name was Skeeter wearing a vest and carrying a weapon in the first place?” Cody asked. “He’s the coroner. And he shouldn’t have snuck a reporter into a crime scene just so she could get some photos. That’s not right. He was acting suspiciously.”

“We’d all like to know that and it’ll come out in the investigation,” Tubman said. “He might be in as much trouble as you are or more. But in this instance I’m glad he had the vest or we’d have a homicide investigation going and you’d be in our jail.”

Cody shrugged. “Speaking of homicide,” he said, “I’d still like to help on the Hank Winters murder investigation.”

“It wasn’t a homicide,” Tubman said with force.

“It was,” Cody said.

“Stay away from it,” Tubman said. “Stay away from this office. Stay away from Larry.” He leaned forward on his desk and balled his fists. “And stay the hell away from me.”

The door opened and Edna stuck her head in. “Sheriff, the governor is on the line. He wants a briefing.”

Tubman moaned and sat back. To Cody, he said, “Go away. Go straight out the door and go home. Don’t even talk to anyone. And stay by your phone.”

Before Cody left the room, he ducked behind the sheriff and turned the offending hat over.

* * *

Larry was alone in the detective room, scrolling through digital images of the crime scene Cody had shot two nights before. Although his shoulders tensed when Cody entered the room, he didn’t greet him. And when Cody shut the door behind him, Larry seemed to be studying the screen even more intently than before.

“I’ll be out of here in a minute,” Cody said.

He went to his desk and started filling an empty box he’d grabbed outside the evidence room with his papers, gear, and the nascent murder book he’d begun.

“Next time,” Larry said finally, “go for a head shot.”

“Ha.”

“Man, when you dive in you go deep. I’ll give that to you.”

Cody grunted.

“A gold-wrapped chocolate coin?” Larry laughed.

“It worked, sort of,” Cody said. “If the killer thought he’d left one behind…”