Immortal by V.K. Forrest

hearts.
    “So what has he done?”
    “He’s put me in charge of the investigation.”
    “You don’t know anything about solving a murder.”
    He laughed but without humor. “So tell me something I don’t already know, sis.” He rubbed his hand across his face. He was feeling light-headed. Probably needed to eat something. That cup of coffee he had around ten a.m. just wasn’t cutting it. “But who else is going to run the investigation? Pete? Tony? How about Hilly Jr.?”
    “Okay, so how are you going to identify this poor guy?”
    “I printed some photos, just a head shot. I have a couple of officers trying to discreetly show them around the boardwalk. I told them just to check with our people. Not to involve any tourists if we can help it. Maybe someone will recognize him.”
    “And you’re sure he’s a tourist?”
    A dispatcher carrying two cups of coffee walked past Fin in the hall. He waited until she was out of earshot to speak. “Who else could he be? He wasn’t wearing a UPS uniform. He wasn’t picking up garbage. The only humans who step foot in Clare Point are the few from the outside who work here, and tourists.”
    “Good point. You have a good mind for this. So—”
    Fin saw Pete round the corner, his face flushed. “Hang on a sec, Fee,” Fin said, lowering the phone to his side.
    “There you are,” Pete panted, running his hand across his broad, sweaty forehead. “I was going to look in the men’s room next.” He stopped in front of Fin. “We’ve got a positive ID.”

Chapter 5
    “A nd you’re sure it’s a positive ID? Absolutely sure?” Fin stood in Sean’s office with Pete, the door closed. Sweat prickled under his suffocating, tight collar. He could feel the officers and few civilians in the station watching him from beyond the glass, waiting for word on the identity of the dead man. Telepathic thoughts bounced off the walls. Eyes bored holes in his back. Fin didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be this person in this position right now.
    “Sure as a man can be. Woman ,” Pete corrected himself. He stood with his arms awkwardly at his sides; armpit stains crept downward on his light blue uniform shirt. “Liz Hillman identified him from the picture you took. Name’s Colin Meding. Twenty-two years old. A Pennsylvania resident. Just graduated from the University of Delaware. Liz said Joe hired him Memorial Day weekend. Caramel popcorn boy. He was doing a fine job, according to Liz, then he didn’t show up for work this morning.”
    “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. Why didn’t she call us this morning when she realized he was missing?” Fin demanded, slamming the back of a chair with the palm of his hand. “Why did it take us all freakin’ day to show the photos around town?”
    Pete stared at the floor. Sean just sat there behind his desk as if he hadn’t heard a word of the exchange.
    Fin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, something he’d learned in anger management therapy. “I’m sorry, Pete. I don’t mean to take this out on you. It’s just that now someone has to tell his parents that their son is dead and that he’s been dead for at least eleven hours and we’re just getting around to contacting them.” He took another breath, feeling a little more in control of himself. “You said Liz identified him from the photo?”
    Pete nodded, slowly lifting his gaze. He was such a good guy. A simple man, but with one of the biggest hearts Fin had ever known. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to harshly.
    “I went by Lizzy’s this morning,” Pete started slowly. “But Liz and Joe were out. Just kids working the stand. You said you only wanted the photos shown to our own, not humans. I forgot I’d skipped the caramel stand, things being crazy and all, and then when I remembered, I went back.” He lifted his chin until he was finally looking Fin in the eyes. “Liz didn’t think he was missing . That’s why she didn’t call us, even