been running the story. It was also no help at all. A body found “just after sunrise” could have been there all night, hidden by an illusion that dissolved at dawn. “She was killed the same way as the others?”
“She was,” Jan agreed. “That’s when people started leaving. They couldn’t handle the idea that they might be next.”
“But you didn’t go because . . . ?”
Her smile was grim. “This is my County. I leave it, I’m probably not getting it back without a lot more lives lost. I’m staying as long as there’s any chance we can save what we’ve been building here.”
“Oberon save me from the idealists,” I muttered. Louder, I said, “I need to know everything. Where the bodies were found, who found them, who might have had access to those areas before the bodies were discovered, everything. Photographs would be good, if you have them.” I’d be surprised if they didn’t have security cameras, given the rest of the knowe.
“Whatever you need,” Jan said. “Of course, you realize that if it somehow turns out you’ve found a way to mimic someone else’s magic and you’re not who you say you are, I’ll have you tried for treason.”
“And I’ll applaud it. Did anyone photograph the bodies? I want to compare the wounds.”
Elliot looked sickened. Jan squeezed his shoulder again, saying, “No—”
“Damn.”
“—but we have the bodies, if you’d like to see them.”
I stared. “What?”
“We have the bodies.” Jan looked at me levelly. “They’re in the basement.”
The cafeteria was an unmarked murder scene and the basement was full of bodies? Cute. On the other hand . . . a firsthand examination might give me something to go on, and I needed it. Colin apparently died of three small punctures, none of which hit a major artery, and some minor blood loss. That wasn’t a good sign.
“Have you taken Colin there?” I straightened, gesturing for Quentin to come. He moved to flank me, silent.
Jan nodded. “Peter and Gordan will have finished moving him by now.”
Those two were toting bodies down the stairs while the full-sized people sat around? Oh, that was a fair division of labor. “Good. Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Elliot asked. It was clear he knew the answer but was hoping to be wrong.
Tough. “The basement. I need to see the bodies.”
“Right.” Jan straightened, taking her hand off Elliot’s shoulder. “Follow me.”
“Can I stay here?” Elliot’s voice sounded shaky. “I don’t want to go down there.” Jan gave me a pleading look, and I nodded. With the way the morning was going, he’d throw up on the bodies. I’m no forensics expert, but even I know that vomit doesn’t usually improve the evidence.
“You can stay here,” I said. When he brightened, I continued, “I want you to get me everything you have on the victims. Personnel files, medical records—anything.”
“I can do that,” he said, tone almost painfully grateful.
“I’m going to want to search their offices and work spaces. I’ll also need to examine the murder scenes.” There might be something, unlikely as it was starting to seem. “All right?”
“No trouble at all.”
“Good. Jan, Quentin, let’s go.”
“All right.” Jan looked over her shoulder, asking, “Elliot, will you be okay?”
“No. But I don’t think it matters right now. I’ll cope.” Elliot stood. “Take them to the basement. I’ll start finding the stuff they need.”
“Do you need anyone to help?” They spoke like equals, but there was an underlying unease there—I got the feeling he was usually the one taking care of her, not the other way around.
“I’ll call April if I need help,” he said, forcing a smile.
“All right, Elliot.” She moved toward the door. We hurried to catch up.
“What do you think?” I murmured to Quentin.
“I think we should leave a trail of bread crumbs,” he replied.
I barked a humorless laugh and picked up the pace.
The route followed a series of twisting halls over what the windows indicated to be multiple floors. I was learning not to trust my eyes at ALH. By the time we stopped, I was so disoriented that I didn’t know if we were on the roof, the ground floor, or the island of Manhattan. The last hall was lit by dim fluorescent bulbs, with a floor covered in industrial gray linoleum. The only door in sight was painted dull orange, trimmed with yellow. A sign at eye level read “Warning: Hazardous Materials. Keep Out.”
Jan saw me eyeing it. “It’s a joke. It’s been hanging there for years. We didn’t put it up because . .