“It’s Detective, ma’am. And you saw everything?” His eyes narrowed, skepticism clear in his tone. “What did you say your name was?”
“Why, my name is Agnes Blanchard, Detective.” She simpered at him, leaning forward to give a better view down her dress. Sha wasn’t sure if her rolling stomach was from her headache or disgust at the blatant attempts at flirting.
“You saw everything Ms. Blanchard?”
“Well…that is…I didn’t witness the murder exactly.”
“I see. And yet you’re positive she committed the crime?”
Agnes turned bright red. “Well she’s covered in blood! Why else would she have his blood all over her if she wasn’t the murderer? And—and look at the way she’s dressed! I bet she’s a vagrant.” She nodded once, as if she’d just laid out an ironclad case.
Entertained by the spectacle despite the grave accusations, Sha wondered why her clothes made a difference. She wore a simple pair of black pants with a charcoal, sleeveless tunic decorated with a knotwork pattern in navy blue. Her pair of knee high black leather boots bore a similar knot pattern. Given the garish red dress Miss Squealer wore, Sha guessed the woman took exception to the dark colors.
“I appreciate your input, ma’am. If you could please follow Officer Kent, he’ll take your statement for the record and then you can go home. I’m sure this has been a trying morning for you.” He waved over a young officer whose expression said he’d be happier to face a pit of vipers than talk to the obnoxious woman.
Agnes pouted. “Oh but can’t you take it, Detective?”
Did this woman have no shame? There was a dead body not even twenty feet away from her, but she was hell bent on flirting with the investigator. Granted, Sha may have wanted to flirt, but there was a line of propriety you shouldn’t cross. She would have waited until she’d left the crime scene at the very least; a woman should have standards.
“I’m sorry ma’am. It’s procedure and I need to question actual witnesses to the crime. You’ve been very helpful and the department thanks you for your cooperation. If you’ll excuse me…”
The detective started toward Sha, stopping to address the mountain who’d maintained his grip on her arm the entire time. “Sir, I appreciate your help restraining the woman, but I don’t think she’s going anywhere with all these cops around. Please see one of the uniforms and give your statement.”
She had to admire the deft way he dismissed people, she thought as she gave one last glare to the mountain. This whole situation was a mess and her mind worked to find a plausible explanation she could tell the detective. At least she had some idea of what would happen after reading a few stories that detailed police procedure. Who knew real cops could be so sexy? He crouched down to meet her eyes, his black slacks pulling to accentuate his well-defined legs. Ogle later, she scolded herself.
“Ma’am, I’m Detective Connor Flynn of the Denver Police. Do you need medical attention?”
“Uh, no, I’m okay.”
“Good. In that case, I’ll need to read you your rights. It’s just a formality at this point, but you do have blood all over your clothes without any visible wounds on your body.” While he recited the list of everything to which she was entitled, Sha wondered if they applied to someone of a different realm. “Do you understand your rights?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name?”
“Sha Phoenix.”
He took out a little notebook and began to scribble her information. “And where do you live?”
Of course he’d ask the one question that was hardest to explain. “I’m sorry, Detective. I can’t answer that.”
His gaze sharpened. “Is that so? Why is that?”
Her thoughts raced, scrambling for a logical response. “I just moved from my old home and haven’t found a new place to live yet.” Technically that wasn’t lying; she had moved from her old address. Granted it was courtesy of a Gateway through an enchanted barrier, but he didn’t need to know that minor detail.
“Okay, how long have you been in Denver?”
“I, um, drove here last night.” She hoped she had used the correct term. In Mythria, they ‘ported across distances or traveled by way of animals, most often gryphons or horses.
The detective made a few notes. “I see. Where is your car now?”
Crap, she hadn’t considered that part. “Uh, I’m not sure where I left it?” She winced at how lame that sounded.
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Sorry. I don’t know where I left it, sir. I think the blow to my head may have rattled me more than I first thought.”
He scrutinized her face for a long minute, his expression impossible to read. This wasn’t going to end well for her. “So you don’t have a current address, you drove here but misplaced your car, and you’ve been here less than a day. What city did you come from? Surely you’ll be able to answer that?”
“I’m from the east coast.” She wished the Gateway would open up and swallow her back to the familiarity of Mythria. All her life she’d wanted nothing more than to explore the Human Realm, but now all she wanted was to go home.
His face hardened. “Look Ms. Phoenix. We have a problem here. You were found lying in a pool of blood next to a murder victim. Speaking with you, I’ve been able to ascertain that little, if any, of the blood belongs to you. I have witnesses reporting you seemed confused, disoriented, and that you showed little reaction given your current state. Now given the brutality of the crime, I’m inclined to believe you’re not responsible because I doubt you have the physical strength necessary.” She bit back the automatic retort at the implication she was weak. No sense in digging herself in any deeper.
“That being said, I find it difficult to believe you don’t have some knowledge of what happened here. You can’t give me a logical explanation for your present condition so you’re going to have to come down to the station. It would be easier if you also consented to a drug test.”
She supposed she couldn’t really blame him for thinking she was on drugs. Even she had trouble comprehending what was going on. “Alright, Detective, I’ll consent. You won’t find anything though.”
“I hope you’re right about that. I just have a few more questions before we leave. Witnesses stated you were initially unconscious. Were you injured?”
Finally a question she could answer. “I don’t know what happened, but I woke up with my head killing me and a knot on the back of my head.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
Sha started to shake her head then thought better of it. “No, go ahead.”
Connor moved her hair aside, pausing when she winced as he glanced over the lump near the base of her skull. “Sorry about that.” His fingers gentled, moving across her scalp as he probed the wound. A shiver ran through her body, accompanied by a flash of heat low in her belly. What was wrong with her? She had better control than this.
He sat back on his heels, studying her. “Are you cold?”
Her cheeks burst into flames. No way could she tell him she was having inappropriate thoughts at his touch. “Um, a bit. I hadn’t expected it to be so cold out here or I’d have worn something different.” Seconds later a blanket settled around her shoulders, brought by one of the uniforms.
“Are you feeling dizzy or having double vision?”
“No, neither.”
“Do you know how long you were unconscious?”
“Silly me, I forgot to mark the exact time I passed out.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “I suppose you have a point. This is what’s going to happen. An officer and a crime scene tech will accompany you to the hospital and process you for evidence while a doctor checks for a concussion. Assuming you’re cleared, the officer will take you to the precinct where you’ll need to wait until I’m done here and can question you further. Any questions?”
“I think you pretty much covered everyth
ing, Detective.”
Connor nodded his approval then waved to a man wearing a light blue suit that covered his entire body. “Go ahead and process her now.”
Sha stamped down the spurt of disappointment as she watched him walk away. Where had that come from? The thought left her shaking her head in disgust at herself. She needed to find a way out of her predicament, not moon over the detective. Resolved to put him out of her mind, she allowed the technician to lead her to a waiting squad car.
CHAPTER THREE
There was something very strange about that woman, although Connor wasn’t sure what it was. Her evasiveness with the simplest of questions was puzzling to say the least. What had been most disconcerting was his reaction to seeing her once he’d arrived. When he’d gotten the call of a homicide and possible suspect still on the scene, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. During his tenure in homicide he’d seen everything from drug addicts beating someone to death over a dime bag to people shooting their spouse in cold blood just to avoid the cost of a divorce. There wasn’t much that surprised him anymore.
Finding a petite woman with blue streaks running through her blonde hair sitting in a pool of blood didn’t faze him. The quick punch of need that had slammed into him, though…that shocked the hell out of him. He’d seen his share of beautiful women on the job, it was hard not to in a city the size of Denver, but never had he felt attraction to them. Hell, that was too tame of a word for what he’d felt just now and it made no sense whatsoever. At least he’d had a good excuse to put some distance between himself and the witness.
Rather than continue to dwell on his reaction, Connor pulled on gloves and crouched next to the crime scene technician photographing the scene. He tried to remember the name of the woman he’d worked with on multiple occasions. Marla Sandoval, if he wasn’t mistaken. “What do we have here, Marla?”
“We’re still waiting on the M.E., but he should be here soon. Some guy freaked out and started screaming something about demons coming and the usual ‘the end is nigh!’ bullshit. Then, before anyone could stop him, he raced into traffic yelling about escaping the demons. Poor guy got flattened by a bus. It was pretty cut and dry; Tony was wrapping up when the call came, so he’ll be over any minute now.”
Connor nodded, examining the body from afar. His hands were tied until Tony Moreno, the precinct’s medical examiner, arrived on the scene. At least there was plenty of evidence in plain sight. His eyes took in the details, noting the cloth that had been used to cover the body. It had been so saturated with the victim’s blood and body fluids, he almost missed the embroidered design in the center. He leaned forward, trying to make out the design, positive there was something familiar about the pattern. Runes? Recognition dawned. Son of a bitch! It was the same damn runes he’d seen twice before. This wasn’t good.
“Marla, call up Tony and see how far away he is.” Impatience warred with the need to follow procedure. If he was right, this body would confirm he had a ritualistic serial killer on the loose. His hands itched to move the cloth. No, he couldn’t break protocol. Jumping the gun would open the door for a suspect to get off on a technicality. There had been two other cases over the past six weeks involving a burial shroud. So far, no amount of research on runes or the origin of the fabric had turned up anything solid. Something felt different today; maybe they’d get lucky with this one.
Marla raised her eyebrow at the command but nodded and pulled out her cell phone. Connor resumed his visual exam studying the body, noting the face down position, its left arm fully extended. The majority of the rest of the body was hidden by the damn cloth, so he couldn’t verify whether there were any missing limbs. He looked over to where Sha had been found unconscious, taking in the pool of blood about twenty feet from the body.
“He’s attacked over there, then dragged and positioned? The attack site is hidden behind a dumpster, well out of view. Why bother to move the body, let alone to a more visible location? Did he want it discovered sooner?”
“Talking to yourself again, Detective Flynn? That’s a sign of insanity you know.”
Startled from his musings, Connor glanced up to see the medical examiner. Tony was a tall man in his early sixties with brown eyes and gray hair he liked to attribute to his wild grandchildren. Not only was he a seasoned medical examiner, he was one of the best in the department. His intelligence and keen eyes had aided Connor countless times over the last ten years. If he was correct about the serial killer, there was no one he trusted more than Tony to handle the body.
“This coming from the man who talks to corpses while he autopsies them? Good to see you, Tony. Heard about the guy who lost his game of chicken with a truck.”
Tony’s lips twitched as he pulled on his gloves and began his examination. Guy never wasted time. “Just another kind of crazy. Sorry it took so long to get over here, traffic’s a bitch today. Let’s see what we have here. Marla, have you finished with the pictures?”
“Yup. I’m about to start collecting blood samples.”
Tony nodded then turned back to Connor. “Sounds good. Let me guess, Detective, you’re dying to peek under the sheet?”
“Always,” he replied with a chuckle. “Can you give me time of death?”
“Judging by liver temp, I would say about two, maybe two and a half hours ago. Marla, can you help me with this shroud?” He glanced at Connor. “You’re thinking this is the same guy, aren’t you?”
“Don’t miss anything, do you? Looks that way. The design on the shroud isn’t an exact match to the previous ones, but it’s consistent.”
Tony grunted as he and Marla carefully folded back the shroud and placed it into an evidence bag. Since he’d been the M.E. on the two previous killings, he recognized the similarities as well. As soon as the body was in full view, he gave a low whistle. “Well now, it looks like our guy has escalated.”
True to the prior murders, the body had been positioned with the left arm intact, while the right arm lay pressed against the body with the hand missing. What Connor hadn’t expected was the absence of feet.
Tony took out a digital recorder, clipped it to his jacket, and began his examination. “Victim is a white male, probably mid forties. Cause of death is yet to be determined. Victim’s missing both feet as well as his right hand. Wounds appear clean, perhaps made with surgical precision. Evidence of clotting indicates limbs were severed antemortem. Poor bastard.”
“Are there runes drawn on his back?” Connor wasn’t sure why he asked the question, he’d already seen more than enough. He thought of the witness, Sha Phoenix, and wondered if she could be the break he and his partner had been waiting for. Anticipation hummed through his veins at the prospect of seeing her again. Wait, where had that come from? He was eager to see her to see if she was the break they needed, that was all, he assured himself.
The medical examiner lifted the victim’s shirt, gesturing to the runes running down the spine. “Yep. Marla, can you get some shots of this?”
Something snagged Connor’s attention, an anomaly on the left shoulder blade resembling a circle with lines radiating outward. “Tony, you see that?”
“Looks like some sort of burn, but it’s not anything I’m familiar with offhand. I should have more for you after the autopsy. Gonna have a fun time ID-ing this guy; he’s missing his fingerprints.”
“Can we roll over the body?” Connor asked, scribbling notes on its condition.
“Sure, if you can give me a hand here.” Together the men eased the body onto its back. “Well after the damage we just saw this is remarkably anti-climactic. There’s no visible trauma to the face or torso.”
“Is that a note of disappointment I hear?”
“Detective Flynn? You’re going to want to see this,” one of the uniformed officers called out, standing about thirty feet down the alley. Connor waved his acknowledgement and looked back at the medical examiner. “Let me know if you find anything else, Tony.”
As he headed over to talk
to the young cop, Connor considered the body. There was no doubt it was connected to the previous cases; all three bodies had been positioned in a similar manner. Each victim was a white male in his mid to late forties who was found with strange runes drawn along the spine. This time, however, the killer had escalated by removing the feet. “What have you got for me, Officer?”
“I think I may have found what the perp used to draw the runes.” The officer indicated a red permanent marker lying on the ground. “Maybe we can get some fingerprints off it.”
Connor smiled at his eagerness. “Good catch. Get someone over here to document and bag it. Hold on a second…do you have a flashlight?” Turning it on, he shined the light against the tall apartment building that made up one side of the alley, illuminating a thick, black substance on the ground. “Candle wax? What the hell is that doing here? Make sure the techs get a sample of it.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“Just keep an eye out for any other potential evidence.” Connor headed back to the mouth of the alley and spotted his partner, Ian Kendrick. Irish to the bone, Ian had fair skin, green eyes, and bright red hair no one could resist teasing him about. At twenty eight, Ian was two years younger than Connor, but they’d been in the same academy class. “Nice of you to join us, Red. What took you so long?”
“Damn traffic,” Ian replied.
Connor laughed. “Yeah, right. Admit it, you had a hot date.”
Ian grinned and winked. “I plead the fifth. Heard you bagged yourself a pretty murder suspect and had a hot broad trying to proposition you. I always knew you were a regular Casanova.”
“Oh yeah, I love getting hit on by older women whose voice mimics the soothing sound of nails on a chalk board. As for the wit, I doubt she’s the murderer. She was all of five foot nothing, no way she had the physical strength needed to inflict that level of brutality. Besides she doesn’t strike me as the type to be dumb enough to kill the guy, drag the body to a more visible location and pose it. She’d then have to go back, sit in a pool of blood and knock herself out just so she could be caught by the police later, making her a candidate for the world’s worst criminal.”
Breaking the Nexus (Mythrian Realm) Page 2
