“Something like that.” Patrick eyed the teenager lying on the slab for a few seconds before looking at Geoffrey. “You got the form we need for identification?”
“Yeah, right over here,” Geoffrey said.
He walked over to a nearby worktable and picked up a folder sitting on top of a metal field case that doubled as a clipboard, and a pen. He carried both back to where everyone was gathered around the body, clicking the pen into use.
“Andre Scott,” Jono said after a moment. “Independent werejackal. No one has seen him in weeks.”
Geoffrey furiously wrote down the information before handing the form and pen over to Jono to sign in the statement’s signature line. Jono scrawled his name in the small box.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Jono asked.
“Well, since he’s an independent with no pack, we’ll try to get in touch with his family. If we can’t reach them, or if we can and they refuse to claim the body, we’ll wait the requisite time period for the god pack to accept the body. Doubtful that they will, so he’ll most likely be sent out for cremation and interred in one of the city’s burial plots for the unclaimed,” Geoffrey said, taking the form back.
“What do you mean it’s doubtful the god pack will claim the body?” Sage asked, careful to keep her tone curious instead of accusatory.
Geoffrey shrugged, not paying any attention to them as he finished filling out the rest of the form. “They haven’t for years when we get unclaimed werecreatures showing up in the morgue. We’ve had a few that have come through this summer, and the god pack refused to claim them.”
Jono clenched his jaw. Patrick wasn’t surprised when he spoke up in defense of the dead.
“If they don’t claim Andre, call me,” Jono said. “I will.”
Geoffrey raised his head and blinked at Jono. “Sure. You want the burial information now or later?”
“Now, please. I can take a look at the paperwork for my client,” Sage said.
“It’s in a different office. I’m not supposed to leave anyone alone with the body, but if the chief is here, I don’t think it should be a problem.”
Casale waved him off. “Go. It’s fine.”
Geoffrey left, giving them a short window of privacy Patrick pounced on. “How many other werecreatures have turned up dead this summer, Casale?”
“Only a couple. I didn’t think anything of it because the god pack delivered the bodies. We were told the deceased died during a pack challenge and wouldn’t be claimed. It’s not considered murder when it’s a pack challenge, and the number of dead wasn’t egregious,” Casale said.
Patrick glanced at Jono, who grimly shook his head. “No way to know for certain without asking Estelle and Youssef. But I haven’t heard any rumors about pack challenges going down and those spread like wildfire.”
As much as Patrick didn’t want to deal with the god pack alphas, that was beginning to look like a task that needed doing. If more than one independent werecreature was missing, they needed to know. Whether or not Estelle and Youssef would come clean about that was a different story entirely.
Geoffrey came back into the workroom and passed the burial information packet to Sage, who tucked it away in her purse.
Casale gestured for them to follow him outside. “Store the body, Geoffrey. Thanks for your help.”
The four of them left the workroom for the hallway. Casale led them toward the elevator bank.
“Vampires and werecreatures don’t mix, Collins,” Casale said.
“I know,” Patrick replied. “I’m working on it.”
“You say that and it’s enough to give me nightmares for a week.”
“Not my fault.”
“My therapy bill says otherwise. Keep me updated.”
Patrick shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”
The case was his now, and as a federal agent, Patrick was in charge. But he wasn’t going to step on Casale’s toes unless he absolutely needed to.
Casale took one elevator up, and they took another. Patrick walked Jono and Sage out of the PCB, squinting at the sunlight. He’d left his sunglasses in the car, but Jono had remembered his own pair to hide his distinctive wolf-bright eyes in public.
