Santa Monica Pier.
Reese squinted into the morning sun as Crews knelt beside the body of a woman in her early twenties. Short black hair, mixed race, definitely, predominantly African American with delicate cheekbones. She was wearing an ankle length loose white dress, bare sandy feet, bright red toenails. No shoes anywhere. Her eyes swept over the scene as she put a hand on her gun. She was watching the waves as they hit the pale shore, her boots sinking into the sand.
"Reese, you should come look at this," Crews called. She glanced down, pulled her sunglasses down for a second to shoot him a look, and moved out across the sand, watching where she stepped as the crime scene techs snapped photos. Reese brushed her hair behind an ear and frowned lightly as she crouched.
"Coins?" There were two heavy coins sitting on top of the woman's eyelids. Reese let out a sigh as she pulled gloves on and shifted, tilting her chin to study the six pieces of fruit sitting in a basket near what looked like an altar. There were grapes, too in a cup and what looked like cornbread on a plate. The cup had something vaguely alcoholic in it. She sniffed at it and made a face.
"Maybe she was going somewhere," Crews suggested. "Had to pay the ferryman, Reese. We all gotta pay a toll. Maybe someone was paying hers for her."
She glanced up at Bobby Stark who stood there staring down at the woman skeptically. Reese glanced at Crews and they both slowly glanced at Bobby again. He just smiled and gave them a look like that was supposed to help them. Reese scowled and Crews looked baffled for awhile. Her voice overlapped his a second later.