But his gut was telling him that she hadn’t lived here long enough to stop caring if the place was a mess.
“Hola, O’Conner. Looking a little rough around the edges,” the silver-haired coroner drawled, unfolding a white sheet to drape it over the body. “Heard that Susan found herself a decent man to make an honest woman of her.”
Yeah, so decent he was banging her in Duncan’s own bed.
Flipping off his companion, Duncan opened the file and glanced through the meager info that had been gathered on the female.
“Who found the body?”
“A silent alarm was tripped.”
“Cause of death?”
“She’s missing her heart.”
Duncan froze, his gaze searching the victim’s unmarred skin and the obvious lack of blood.
“How the hell could she be missing her heart?”
“I don’t know,” Frank Sanchez admitted, the bite in his raspy voice expressing his opinion of “I don’t know.” “But I ran the portable MRI over her three times to be sure.”
The older man could be a pain in the ass to work with, but he knew his shit. Nothing got past his eagle gaze. If he said the female was missing her heart, then she was missing her heart.
Crap. Duncan hated mysteries.
“No DNA?”
“It’s clean.” Another growl as Frank gathered the tools of his trade to pack them in a black leather bag. “Too clean.”
“So a freak?”
“That would be my guess.”
Confused, Duncan read through the file.
Leah Meadows.
Twenty-six.
Single, originally from Little Rock.
Current occupation, dancer at the Rabbit Hutch.
That would explain her location, he cynically concluded. Her salary as a dancer wouldn’t cover the rent, but the clients who frequented the high-end strip club would easily be able to afford this place to keep a current mistress.
It didn’t, however, explain why she was lying na**d in her kitchen without her heart.
Lifting his head, he met Frank’s troubled gaze. “You made the call?”
The older man grimaced, not needing any further explanation.
When there was a murder that didn’t have an eyewitness or a legitimate suspect, it was protocol to call in one of the mutants. And when it might involve another mutant, they were called ASAP.
“Yep. She should be—”
On cue one of the uniforms stepped into the kitchen. “The necro is here.”
“Perfect timing,” Duncan muttered. “Show her in.” For whatever reason, necros were almost always females.