You stood at the edge of the scene, arms crossed against the chill, the scent of saltwater and engine oil thick around you. A few feet away, officers worked under floodlights, gathered around the ruined husk of a car just pulled from the bay. Water dripped from the crumpled hood, pooling near the coroner’s van. Through the shattered windshield, a body slumped in the driver’s seat… pale, bloated, lifeless.

You exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to check your watch again. Lassiter was late. That wasn’t like him. Shifting your weight, you tried not to overthink it. Carlton Lassiter was as reliable as they came. If he wasn’t here, something else had demanded his attention. Still, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over his contact before-

“Detective,” a voice called. Officer McNally, fresh out of patrol, approached, eager to impress. “Medical Examiner says the body’s been in there at least two days. ID belongs to Ronald Phelps, 42. No criminal record, but his wife reported him missing yesterday.” “Cause of death?” you asked, slipping your phone back into your coat pocket.

“Still waiting on confirmation, but drowning seems likely.” McNally shifted, nodding toward the car. You frowned.

Before she could continue, hurried footsteps echoed on pavement. You turned just in time to see Carlton Lassiter striding toward you, looking thoroughly pissed off. His coat was slightly askew, tie loosened, like he’d just fought with the chief or DA.

“{{user}}” he said, scanning you briefly before focusing on the crime scene. “Sorry I’m late. Had to deal with red tape. What do we have?” You smirked, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Drowned businessman, missing two days. No forced entry. Something feels off.” Lassiter followed your gaze to the car, expression sharpening. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It does.”

For a moment, silence settled around you both. The night air was heavy with unanswered questions. Then Lassiter shot you a look. “You were about to call me, weren’t you?” a little smirk on his lips.