“Why?” I try for a reasonable voice, but it still comes out all whiny.
“A body. Looks like an overdose, but we need to confirm,” she says.
What’s up with this city? “I’ll be right there.” I hate being a responsible adult.
“Chin up, princess. It’s in a Wendy’s parking lot, so there’ll be coffee. The all-you-can-drink variety,” she says, softening the blow.
“I love you,” I tell her. And she hangs up on me. Weirdly, not the worst response I’ve received for that declaration.
A quick shower later, I’m out the door, driving to Wendy's, hoping this really is just an overdose. I can’t deal with another killer this early in the morning.
***
Good news, it’s not another serial killer. It’s the same one. Silver lining and all that.
“With that amount of drugs, it can easily be an OD,” Serena says from the driver’s side of the door while I peer through the passenger side.
She isn’t wrong. That’s a lot of drugs in the glove compartment. But it’s not OD. It can be, but Iknowit isn’t. That’s because this is a werewolf, and there’s a big dent in the steering wheel that looks like a claw mark.
Not only is this the work of the werewolf hunter, but this time, it didn’t go as smoothly for them as it tends to do when they’re involved. Serves them right for getting smug and murdering in the open, unlike their usual MO of cornering victims in their homes.
But they’re definitely leveling up. All because I can’t catch them.
Everything here taunts me. Like the killer is sitting in a room watching us helplessly trying to find clues, and laughing at us. They have a cackling laugh in my imagination. Helps for maximum embarrassment effect.
I spot Dominic standing near the Wendy's door. I walk up to him, letting Serena continue the inspection. I have more urgent questions.
He’s on a call but disconnects when I approach him.
“You responded to the call?” I ask him.
He nods. “I was on patrol when we got it. I was the closest. The EMTs declared him dead pretty much right away,” he says.
“Please tell me there was a camera that captured the entire thing, and we just need to get in our cars and drive to the killer,” I plead.
Dominic huffs a laugh. “What’s the fun in that? Their camera doesn’t capture that far into the parking lot,” he gives me the bad news. Well, I already expected that. It’s the serial killer we’ve been tracking for years. They won’t bethatsloppy.
“You think it’s the Vigilante Wolf Hunter?” he asks.
“We aren’t supposed to give them names, Dom. That seals our failure,” I berate him.
He tilts his head. “That can’t be true.”
Maybe it isn’t, but it sure feels like it. It’s giving them too much power. Anyway, “Yeah, it's them alright. The guy doesn’t look like he did a lot of drugs. Especially not enough to die of an overdose,” I tell him.
“But he had so much on him,” he argues.
“Yes, because he’s a dealer. The coke was packaged for sale. He was here to make a deal, probably with our killer. And yes, I’m refusing to call them Vigilante Wolf Hunter on principle,” I announce primly.
“Well, it’s a good thing Marcus is here then,” Dominic points over my shoulder.
I turn to look at Marcus making his way towards the victim’s car. I sigh, feeling relieved. It’s a rare occurrence for Marcus to conduct a proper post-mortem on the Bureau cases. Most of the time, he hops on later after human authorities have already closed the case.
“I need coffee to deal with Marcus,” I tell Dominic over my shoulder, already walking into the shop.
Armed with a fresh cup of sugar and caffeine, I head back to the crime scene.
“I’m almost sure it’s not an OD,” Marcus confirms without looking up when I come up behind him.
