and his two investigators were already inside the storage unit when she reached it. The sound of cameras clicking, freezing the crime scene in time, greeted her as she walked in.
One thing struck her immediately. The smell was just as appalling the second time around as it had been the first.
“Drumming up business for my department?” her father asked as he snapped another picture of the rug and the victim within it.
“Actually, I thought I’d make my new partner’s first day on the job an unforgettable one,” she jested.
“New partner,” Sean repeated. This was the first he’d heard about Kari getting someone new to work with. “That would be you?” he asked, looking over his daughter’s head at the tall and striking dark-haired man who was half a step behind her.
Kari turned around. Damn, but he was incredibly quiet, she thought for a second time. He didn’t seem to make a sound when he moved. If he stayed on, she might have to give serious consideration to getting him a bell to wear around his neck.
“So you did decide to come along,” she murmured.
Esteban ignored her for the time being, looking instead at the man who’d asked him a question.
“Detective Esteban Fernandez,” he said, extending his hand to the man he assumed was the supervisor of the CSI day crew. He had a very authoritative manner about him that lent itself well to the position.
“Sean Cavanaugh,” Sean introduced himself, taking the offered hand in his.
The younger man had a good, solid handshake, Sean thought. You could tell a great deal about a man by the way he stepped up and presented himself. He felt a little more at ease about his daughter being out in the field. This partner, he judged, would have her back.
“My daughter giving you a hard time?” he asked Esteban amicably.
“Not that I noticed, sir,” the detective replied with stoic resignation that was not wasted on Sean. He took a second look at the young man, and then looked at his daughter. This could prove to be interesting, Sean thought.
Kari noted the subtle shift, but before she could say anything, one of her father’s two assistants called out to him.
“Sean, come look at this,” Destiny Richardson requested. She and the other investigator had managed to carefully unfurl and remove the rug from around the victim’s body. The entire area where the rug had been in direct contact with the dead man was completely soaked with blood.
Kari was right beside her father and looked down at the corpse sans his cocoon. “Looks like he was killed on that rug,” she theorized.
“Or wrapped up immediately after he was killed,” Esteban interjected. Inherent concern masked by a veil of curiosity had him glancing in her direction to see how she was handling this up-close view of murder. That her pallor hadn’t changed nor had she bolted to purge her suddenly nauseated stomach, drew grudging admiration from him. “Looks like cause of death was having his throat slashed,” Esteban observed.
“At least it was quick,” Kari said, then raised her eyes up to her father’s, looking for confirmation. “It was quick, right?”
Sean nodded. “That would be my preliminary guess, at least for now. I’ll know more once we get him back to the lab.”
“How long do you think he’s been dead?” Kari asked.
Rather than answer, Sean looked at the investigator who had called him over to the unveiled body. Destiny, the young woman he had initially taken under his wing and personally trained because she had such an aptitude for the work, was soon going to become an official member of the family. She was engaged to Kari’s older brother, Logan.
Right now, though, she had just removed the thermometer she’d inserted into the victim’s liver in order to ascertain body temperature, which in turn allowed them to establish approximate time of death.
“According to his liver temperature, I’d say that he’s been dead close to a week,” Destiny estimated.
“You heard the lady,” Sean said to his daughter.
Before she could thank Destiny, Esteban was calling her attention to something else.
“Hey, Hyphen,” he said, using the same nickname that he’d heard the lieutenant use.
Kari looked in his direction, not entirely sure if she liked the man calling her that or not. She supposed it beat Fernandez referring to her as “hey, you,” so for now she let it go.
“Yes?” she responded, waiting.
“What do you make of this?” While the others were gathered around the victim’s head, looking at him upside down, Esteban was standing