“Sounds like a plan.” Brennon closed his portion of the table screen as Daylen rose to his feet. “You coming with?”
“Nah,” Daylen shook his head, “leg work isn’t appealing. If I wanted to bother with all that, I’d be working on my own case. I’m going to head to the café. Grab some brunch.”
“Oh, I like that way better.” Calder gathered his things quickly. “I’ll go with you instead.”
“We aren’t sharing our findings,” Brennon warned, but Calder merely waved and then bounded off with Daylen.
“Forget them.” Rin had just pushed in his chair when both of their emblem-slates dinged.
“Shit.” Brennon’s brow winged up. “There’s been another murder.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Rin said as he scanned the new message. It’d been made to look like an actual notice from an I.P.F branch to their agent, giving them a brief summary of who had been killed and where. “There’s an address.”
“It’s close,” Brennon sounded excited. “Let’s go. Maybe we can get there before anyone else.”
They practically raced from the library, running into Calder on the steps.
“What happened to brunch?” Brennon teased as they fell into formation, heading toward the parking lot where his hovercar was parked.
“And let you discover something without me?” he grunted. “No way.”
* * *
It was Arlet.
Rin tried not to keep looking, but his eyes constantly wandered over toward where she was slumped against the alley wall, her head tilted to the side to expose her throat and the wide slash that had been painted on there.
“Hey,” Calder was having the same problem, standing only a few feet away from her, “you sure you’re all right? We won’t tell anyone if you want to just sit up and take a break.”
“There’s no one else here,” Rin agreed, feeling bad.
“What are they paying you for this gig anyway?” Brennon asked. Out of the three of them, he was the only one picking through the scene, snapping photos with his emblem-slate and logging notes along the way.
The alley had been left mostly untouched, meaning there were bits of trash and debris scattered about, along with a large orange dumpster. It was narrow, enough so that Arlet’s stretched-out legs were only a foot or so away from reaching the other side, and set between a deli and an insurance office of a quiet area in the city.
There was blood splatter on the floor and sprayed across the wall opposite where she was sitting.
“Looks like he got her good the one time,” Brennon announced as he checked out the marking. “See the splatter? How it arches? Bet he’s right-handed.”
Calder snorted. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Stop trying to sound smart in front of her.”
“You mean the dead girl?”
“Guys,” Rin shook his head and then knelt by Arlet’s side. “Are you really okay?” She’d been frozen in that position since they’d gotten there and it couldn’t be comfortable.
“I’m fine,” her eyes moved to meet his, “thanks. Just act like I’m a corpse and do your thing.”
If she insisted.
“Why don’t they use dummies or holographic displays,” Calder asked as Rin straightened and started searching like Brennon. “Why ask for volunteers at all?”
He thought it over. “Maybe it’s to shake us up. Think about it, sure it’s not the same as having to be around an actual dead body, but you and I both wasted time checking if she was all right.”
“And I still feel bad that she has to just, sit there,” Calder grimaced. “Okay, I get it.”
“If you get it, then shut up and help,” Brennon said.
“The blood is still wet,” Rin pointed to the spots on the ground. “Let’s take some samples.”
