A light sleeper by design, he rolled over in his bed to answer the phone. “Sorry to wake you, sir,” Sergeant John King drawled, “but there’s been a shooting at the beach we think needs your attention.” King was the on-duty supervisor at the MBPD Investigation Division. It was his responsibility to notify the higher-ranking detectives about a serious case or a shooting. He had been a policeman for fourteen years, inching his way up from a detention officer to sergeant in the investigative unit. Ten of those years, he had worked under Hendrick’s command. In fact, the two had been working together so closely that King had developed a sense of when he thought Hendrick needed to be called in on a case. He was convinced this shooting was definitely one of those times. “What have you got, John?” Hendrick cut the lamp on beside his bed, then patted his wife back to sleep. “Hate to get you out of bed for this,” King apologized, “but it looks like we have a homicide on the beach.
