"Sometimes, yes. In this case, no. His body composition is not usual."
If he wasn't fully thawed, then I guess it would seem unusual. "If his death is a lot older than a day, it means he was probably already dead when both the secretary and the photographer were murdered."
Azriel glanced up at me. "Yes."
I frowned. "So why would our face-shifter order them killed if he was ditching his Nadler identity anyway?"
"That is a question I cannot answer."
"I know—I'm just venting." Damn it, this didn't make sense.
He studied me for a second—no doubt noting the way I leaned against the sofa and knowing full well why—then said, "There is one possible reason."
"What?"
He swept aside Nadler's dark hair to reveal his left temple. "There's no scar here."
"And the version Logan knew had a scar," I said, suddenly understanding.
"Yes," Azriel said. "And no doubt the one his secretary knew, as well. With them dead, there would be few left who dealt with him regularly and therefore few who could mention differences between the shape-shifter they knew as Nadler and this one, who is the real Nadler, given what Jacinta told us."
That made sense—and it said a lot about my overall state that he was the one making these observations, not me. I mean, I'd been around guardians all my life and over the years had learned a fair bit about the inner goings-on of the Directorate and the law. "Then why kill Blake? He certainly couldn't have identified the recent version of Nadler."
Azriel shrugged. "Humanity often suffers from illogical patterns of thinking."
It was a somewhat harsh observation, but sadly, more true than not. I scrubbed a hand through my hair, then glanced out the windows as the wail of sirens suddenly seemed to sharpen. "We'd better get out of here. Can you take me back to Stane's?"
Surprise flitted briefly across his features, but once again I found myself in the cocoon of his arms as he shifted us. I have to say, it was a nice place to be.