Niyah rubbed her eyes and looked at the time. It was 4:15 in the morning. “Good morning, Doctor Leer,” she grumbled.
“I’m so sorry to wake you. You’re needed in Englewood. Looks like another victim of those serial killings.”
Niyah’s eyes flew open. She said a silent prayer that her sister hadn’t struck again. Revenge was one thing because those men had viciously assaulted Naomi. But what did it say about a person who could kill so many people? It was like a bad rendition of ISpit on Your Grave.
“Send over the address,” Niyah responded with a sigh.
She ended the call and yanked the cover off her body. Getting calls in the middle of the night from the ME’s office was par for the course. But the possibility of investigating another murder committed by her sister was heart-wrenching.
Niyah got out of bed and took the fastest shower ever. She brushed her teeth, slapped some rosemary-coconut oil on her locs, and twisted them into a top bun. In lieu of clothing, she opted for scrubs. Eyeliner, lip-gloss, and a big pair of shades had her ready to face the morning.
Niyah left her room and tiptoed past Xander’s door. He was an early bird, but at 5 AM nobody wanted the worm. Normally, she’d make coffee before leaving, but she didn’t wanna risk waking him. Xander would insist on driving, butNiyah was in no mood for company. She didn’t want to explain or hide her anxiety. So, she grabbed her bag from the closet by the door and left.
Since it was so early in the morning, it only took fifteen minutes to get to the Englewood bungalow. Cops and crime-scene tape told her she was at the right place.
Niyah parked and walked up the street. After showing her ME’s badge, an officer lifted the yellow crime scene tape.
“Thank you.” She took the steps up the porch and said a silent prayer the victim was shot and not stabbed. Before entering, she performed the routine of pulling out gloves and covering her shoes.
“Oh, good,” a police sergeant commented when she entered the living room.
There was nobody in the living room, so Niyah walked over to the sergeant. “What do we have?”
He pointed toward the back of the house. “Male, black, 30 maybe 35...”
“Okay. So, only one victim?”
“Yeah. Looks like multiple stab wounds.”
Fuck!
Niyah looked down at the sergeant’s shoes and noticed that they weren't covered. She was willing to bet that none of the other officers on scene were properly preserving the crime scene, especially if the supervisor wasn’t. She walked toward the back of the house, saying a silent prayer that Bella hadn’t beaten her to the crime scene.
When she entered the bedroom, it seemed her prayers had been answered. Other than the decedent, there was only the evidence tech in the room. “Good morning,” Niyah greeted.
She walked over to the body. Like the others, the victim was naked. It looked like he had either been killed during or directly after sex. However, unlike the others, his puncturewounds were different. Whereas the others had been smaller and cylindrical, this victim’s wounds were more like slash marks.
“Puncture wounds are different.”
“Shit!” Niyah jumped at the sound of Bella’s voice. She hadn’t heard her come in. Not to mention, she was close enough to be standing right over her shoulder. “Put a bell on!” Niyah fussed. “You scared the shit outta me.”
Bella chuckled. “My bad. Where you at with this?”
Niyah shook her head. “Nowhere. I just got here.”
She started by checking the rigidity of the deceased’s limps. “He’s been dead a little under eight hours.”
Bella kneeled by the bed to get a closer look. “What do you think made these?” she asked, referring to the puncture wounds.
“Something sharp,” Niyah chided. “Could you move so I can do my job?”
Bella smacked her lips. “I ain’t in your way.”
Over her shoulder, Niyah asked, “Don’t you need to canvass the neighborhood and question people. You know, something detective-like?”
“Nope. I got a beat team handling that. I’m focused on…” Bella raised an identification card to her eyes. “Mr. Butler.”
Niyah rolled her eyes and turned back to the victim. The last thing she needed was Bella breathing down her neck, especially if Mr. Butler was another one of Naomi’s victims. There wasn’t a lot she could do at the scene. She’d already estimated time of death and concluded the manner of death to be exsanguination resulting from stabbing.
