The flyer dropped her eyes and waved her hands, looking for an answer. DiMarco didn't answer. The weight of her job sagged a little on her face, and she waited a few seconds, until a voice called for Sgt. Drake to return to the aircraft. There wasn't any point in arguing about it.
Command means responsibility.
The evidence on her belt found its way back to the crime scene kit. It was logged and stamped. There was another patch near the bar. It got collected and bagged and officially secured. It kept DiMarco busy another half hour, visually scanning the bottom of the pool.