‘Fuck!’ The expletive had slipped out before I could contain it. I looked down at the body of Ash Aspen and cursed again. His neck sat at a wrong angle, skin broken and bleeding and the spinal column exposed. The dryad’s green skin was already cooling amid the cold evening grass.
‘This is bad,’ Channing muttered.
I scraped my hands through my short hair. ‘Really fucking bad.’
Loki flitted around me, flying from tree to tree and back again in open agitation. His wings buzzed too fast, movements sharp and erratic.
I reached out to him.Okay, buddy?
Who knows where Rude Jingo is now?My bonded bird’s fear whipped through me.
Ash Aspen had been Jude Jingo’s latest host, yet with his body pulverised on Kate’s lawn … Jingo was now somewhere –someone– else. And what the hell had he been doing at Kate’s house? The thought made me shudder.
He knew Kate was on my team, knewIwould be called to a body found at her property. He wanted me to know. He wasbraggingthat he was in a new body.
A new body I couldn’t identify. Yet.
I’m going to find out,I promised grimly to my caladrius.Don’t you worry about that.
Just like that, Loki’s fear settled.You will,he said with total certainty.Pigdog is good at her job.
Thanks,I said, a shade drily.
With my avian friend calmer, I refocused on my crime scene. Ash Aspen had been beaten to death. A well-aimed blow had snapped his neck and ended his life abruptly.
Kate Potter, ME, came out with a field kit in hand and booties already on. Channing looked at her and winced, knowing what I was going to say. He continued documenting the body and its surroundings with deliberate precision.
I raised my hands towards the ME. ‘You can’t work the scene, Kate. I’ve contacted Crane.’
Kate folded her arms, which I knew from experience was awkward with the bulky field kit dangling from her fingers. ‘Percival is an arsehole.’
‘No arguments from me,’ I agreed. ‘But you still can’t work it. It’s literally on your doorstep. Your garden is part of the crime scene.’
‘I didn’t see anything! I’m not compromised.’
‘Do you know who this is?’ I asked, gesturing to the cooling corpse.
She shook her head, rustling her perfect ringlets. ‘No,’ she said, but her tone made me think she wasn’t sure of that.
I raised an eyebrow and she huffed. ‘All right, he looks familiar but I can’t place where I’ve seen him. I think it was recent, but for all I know it could be something as innocuous as him also liking the coffee at the Storyhouse.’
Dryads, being magical creatures, didn’t need to spend any time in the Common realm to recharge their magical batteries.As such it would be rare to see one at the Storyhouse, the hall of the portal between the realms, and she knew it.
‘No,’ I said, resigned, ‘it’s probably not that. Do you remember the murder at Louise Carnforth’s?’
‘The dead dryad? Yes.’ She eyed Ash Aspen’s body. ‘They’re not related though. At least, I don’t think so. That was a stabbing, right?’
‘Right, but thisguy was there – as a witness – at the ball. You might well have seen him in the crowd as you worked the scene.’
‘Maybe that was it.’ She shrugged. ‘Either way, I’m not emotionally compromised. He’s not a friend or a colleague.’
‘No, he’s not, but he’s the dead guy onyourlawn.’
‘But I see dead guys daily. The dead don’t often upset me anymore. Honestly, I’m fine to work the scene. I’dpreferto work the scene.’ She glanced back towards the house. ‘Poor Troy is a bit shocked. He’s not himself at all.’
‘Finding a body will do that to a civilian. I’ll need to talk to him in a bit.’
‘That’s fine. He’s in the house with my sister, Beth. She’s trying to keep the dogs under control, but they’re agitated as heck. I expect they feel our anxiety. Anyway, Beth and Troy already gave statements to Channing.’
