Shadow of Doubt - Hailey Edwards Page 0,47

it up before humans could document more of it with their phones. There would be no sweeping this under the rug. Money and favors would have to exchange hands to erase this.

“Hadley Whitaker, right?” A tall redhead flagged me down. “I’m Siobhan.”

“This your scene?” I took the hand she offered, shook. “I have questions.”

“I have no answers—yet—but this is my scene.”

“I meant on the Perkerson Park case.” I ought to be looking at the body, but a connection inside the cleaners could prove useful. They weren’t a social bunch, so I chose to take it as a good sign that she had singled me out of her own volition. “When will those reports be available?”

“Tomorrow.” The blood drained from her cheeks. “We’ve been working overtime to get all the evidence catalogued.”

Catalogued was a sanitary description for the work of piecing together so many bodies.

“Thank you.” I couldn’t put off viewing the body any longer. They were prepping it for transportation to their private morgue. “I need all the help I can get stopping this guy.”

“Reece knows how to get in touch with me,” she said softly. “I’ll send over the files the second they go live on our server.”

Well, that explained how he got his samples.

One of her underlings appeared at her elbow with a baggie and a question, and I left them to their work.

Tilda Wainwright lay curled facing the wall with her arms covering her head. She wore maroon scrubs, so she had been murdered on her way to or from work at the hospital. Her blonde hair was streaked with crimson highlights, and her shoes were bright white Crocs spattered with gruesome polka dots.

From this angle, the pinkish-white bone of her spine was visible. Whoever had done this had eaten the meat between her shoulder blades and her pelvis. They had gnawed her ribs, which had splintered and cracked until they snapped off under the pressure of the killer’s jaws.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder and spun to find Ford. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check on you.” He gave me a reassuring squeeze. “Midas is talking to Bonnie.”

“I think I’ll join them.” I had a few questions for him. “Are you coming with?”

“Not yet.” He let his focus slide to the body. “I need a moment.”

“How rude is it for me to ask you to compare the scents from the previous scenes with this one?”

“Pretty damn rude,” he groused, “but I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

Cutting through the crowd to Ford’s pickup, I reached it as Midas was shutting the door on his conversation with Bonnie.

“Can we talk?” I ignored the corgi pressing her nose to the glass. “Privately?”

He started walking, and I fell in beside him.

“Bishop has a theory I didn’t want to believe, but I think he’s on to something.”

“Bonnie,” he said simply.

“Where did you find her? Specifically? What do you know about her?”

“At the shelter on University Drive Northeast.” He guided us down a well-lit but mostly empty sidewalk. “I was teaching a women’s self-defense class there, and she watched. She wouldn’t participate, and I didn’t push her. The room got hot, and I scented her on the way to get a drink of water.”

“How did you know what she was so fast?”

“She’s not the first of her kind I’ve come across, and that’s all I’ll say about that.”

So much for teasing out information on how many of their fae cousins they were hiding.

Twisting the interrogation, I chose a less prickly course. “You’re three for three in the tip department.”

“I’ve only spoken to him once.”

“That doesn’t change the fact our killer is contacting the den each time he kills. He asked for you this time. Did he request you for the others as well?”

“Yes,” he said softly, and I could tell I had gotten him thinking.

“We can’t discount the fact the killer wants you personally informed of his accomplishments.” I took a half step to catch up with his longer strides. “You found Bonnie. You brought her home. A week later, bodies started piling up.” I kept going, hashing it out. “There must be a connection.”

“He’s a warg.” Midas puckered his brow. “I’m gwyllgi, and so is Bonnie.”

“You’re descended from gwyllgi and wargs, so your species are compatible.”

Midas slowed his pace. “Do you think Bonnie was in a relationship with the killer?”

Magic aside, she would hardly be the first woman to run from an abusive boyfriend or husband.

“We have to question her.” There was no easy way to ask, so I spit it out. “Can