each set in turn.
“This blood drop,” Kenji said, pointing to a perfect teardrop low on Russ’s shirt, “it doesn’t fit the gravitational direction of the rest of the blood.”
Garnet leaned in to see what he had, nodded. That one droplet went vertically downward, while the rest of the blood had gone sideways across one side of Russ’s chest.
“Could’ve been from the knife after he was first stabbed,” Lorenzo said.
Plausible, Garnet thought. “I know Shane doesn’t have any visible blood on the front of his shirt, but what about microdroplets?”
“No microdroplets.” Lorenzo’s striking eyes went to Shane’s shirt. “I double-checked.”
Garnet turned over the shirt to point at the droplet she’d noticed on the back of Shane’s forearm. It looked like it had splashed downward onto Shane’s shirt, its shape pristine and undisturbed—as if Shane hadn’t moved so much as a flicker after the droplet fell onto his body.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “This blood, is it from Russ?”
“Yes. DNA confirmed.”
“Damn,” Kenji murmured at the same instant the pieces clicked together in her head, the ensuing pattern so incomprehensible that she and Kenji just stared at one another.
Turning as one, they headed back to the scene.
Lorenzo accompanied them. “What’ve you two figured out?”
“Let’s see if we’re right first,” Kenji murmured once they were inside Russ’s living area. “Be Shane, Lorenzo.”
“You want me to lie down?”
“No, run this from the start.” Garnet nodded at Kenji to pick it up.
“Okay, you enter. I shake your hand.” Kenji snapped his fingers. “Forgot something I had for you in the other room. Please come with me.”
“Something of Athena’s that she accidentally left behind?” Garnet offered.
Nodding, Kenji said, “That works.”
Lorenzo took a moment to think about it. “Okay, I agree to go,” he said. “Just keeping the peace so this meeting is over as fast as possible and I can grab much-needed shut-eye.”
“Fits with Shane’s personality,” Garnet said, and the three of them walked to the bedroom. “And it explains Shane’s scent in the bedroom.”
“Yes, and then, damn, I realize I left this unknown thing in the front room after all.” Kenji led Lorenzo out. “It’s just over there.” He pointed.
When Lorenzo turned instinctively in that direction, Kenji reached toward the display cabinet next to him, picked up an imaginary flashlight, then brought it down lightly against the back of Lorenzo’s head. “Slam with the flashlight and you’re down.”
A scowling Lorenzo nonetheless went to the floor.
“You dead-bolt the front door then go to the bedroom,” Garnet said, disbelief a living being inside her, “mess it up, punch a hole in the wall . . . get the knife.”
“But before the final act . . .”
Kenji rolled Lorenzo over and pretended to punch the healer’s face before punching himself a couple of times. As Lorenzo’s eyes widened in shocked understanding, Kenji rolled Lorenzo back over and aimed several pretend kicks at his ribs. Only then did he rise to his feet and use his phone in place of the knife to mimic stabbing himself before leaning down to place the “weapon” by Lorenzo’s outflung hand.
“This is when the blood drops onto Shane’s sleeve. Vertical droplet on Russ probably happened when he pulled out the blade,” Garnet said softly as Kenji placed a hand over his heart and went to the ground in the position in which Russ had been found. “Explains everything.”
Lorenzo and Kenji both sat up.
The healer’s blood had leached from his skin, leaving it unnaturally stark. “Russ wasn’t wearing a glove.” He wrapped his arms loosely around his raised knees. “Why didn’t we find his fingerprints on the blade?”
And the final piece slotted into place for Garnet.
“The handkerchief,” she whispered. “He deliberately got blood on it to hide any metallic scent from the knife hilt.”
Kenji ran a hand through his hair. “Could be it was also a parting shot aimed at Athena. Screw with her emotions, foster guilt.”
“Yes.” Garnet slid down to sit with her back to the door, unable to believe that one of her packmates had been filled with enough rage to orchestrate his own “murder.”
• • •
Kenji’s heart rebelled at seeing that shocked, pained look on Garnet’s face. Rising, he went to sit by her side. It was primal instinct to wrap an arm around her. “Adults, remember?” he murmured to her, bending to nuzzle at the soft, warm skin of her cheek. “We aren’t their keepers. We can’t control our packmates.”
One hand closing over his raised knee as she allowed him to tuck her against his side, Garnet nodded. “You’re right.”