before leaving the room and closing the door to give the couple privacy. Her next step was to return to Lorenzo. “Autopsy on Russ?” she asked.
“Done.” Getting to his feet, he turned on the backlit medical screen and pulled up a scan of Russ’s heart, pointed out a particular area using the index finger of his left hand. “Knife just nicked the aorta.”
Garnet put her hands on her hips, frowned. “Would that have made Russ collapse where he stood?”
A shake of Lorenzo’s head. “A total transection of the aorta and it’s game over. He would’ve exsanguinated before help could arrive. This”—he tapped the image—“was a slow bleed.”
Garnet chewed that over. “Could Russ have had a heart attack from the stress?” Something had stopped him from seeking help.
But Lorenzo gave another negative shake of his head. “I checked. Injury-wise, he has the stab wound, scraped knuckles, a few light bruises on his face, but no signs of any other medical or physical event.”
Folding her arms, Garnet thought back to when Shane had grabbed her hand. “The skin on Shane’s knuckles looked unbroken to me.”
“No damage that I detected,” Lorenzo agreed. “Aside from the bump on the head—there was a hairline fracture there, by the way”—he pointed out the evidence on another scan—“Shane has those bruises on his face and significant bruising to the ribs. I can’t prove it but I don’t think they were made by fists.”
Lowering her arms, Garnet turned to look at Lorenzo. “Are you saying he was kicked?”
“He’s a big man, strong, too, but he’s got no defensive injuries on his hands or arms.” Lorenzo brought up photos of Shane’s upper limbs as they’d been when he was first brought in. “So whether it was kicks or blows from an unknown weapon, I’d bet my career that he was already down when it was done.”
The hairs rose on the back of Garnet’s neck, her skin tingling. “Leaving aside the lack of defensive injuries,” she said, “if he’d hit Russ hard enough to cause Russ’s bruises, we’d expect visible damage, right?”
“He could’ve got lucky.” Lorenzo didn’t sound convinced. “As for Russ . . . it’s almost as if he lay down and died.” Tiny lines flaring out from the corners of his eyes, the healer ran a hand through his hair. “Only one reason I can think of for Russ to just give up that way and it makes me sick to my stomach to even consider it.”
“That Athena’s the one who dealt the killing blow and Shane’s covering for her.” Garnet clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. “I can’t see it, Lorenzo. Quite aside from the fact that she’s about as dangerous as a cream puff, she has an alibi.” Garnet had run into the head of the nursery at breakfast and confirmed that Athena had come in early to prep for her class, was in the nursery during the window of time when the murder had most likely taken place. “Unless,” she said, facing Lorenzo’s profile, “you think time of death was later in the morning?”
“No.” A definitive shake of his head. “I’ve processed all the data. Time of death was between seven thirty and eight thirty. I lean toward the earlier end of the spectrum.” Switching out the scans, he gave her a quick update on a juvenile with a broken wrist, before adding, “I know it makes your job harder, but thank God Athena has an alibi. It’s taken Shane a long time to find someone with whom he’s happy.”
“Love can make people do stupid things.” Just because Athena hadn’t taken physical part in the murder didn’t mean she wasn’t involved. “Keep an eye on them. Call me immediately if you figure out anything else.”
“I don’t envy you this, Jem.” Lorenzo’s eyes were solemn.
Neither did Garnet, but this was her job, why she was a lieutenant.
Leaving his office on that thought, she went to look in on Pia—who was sulking at being growled at by Lorenzo for her terrible patient skills—then made her way to the indoor training arena. She needed to clear her head, figure out what it was she wasn’t seeing. Because there was something niggling at her beyond the fact they still had to confirm the origin of the blow to Shane’s skull.
A couple of pups in wolf form joined her halfway to her destination, and when she hunkered down to pet them, they didn’t dart off. Normally, feeling their rapidly beating hearts beneath her palm, their fur soft as their