“Have the families been notified?”
“Henry, Amaryllis, and I split the calls.”
Mercury had done it. She’d made those calls while I was upstairs, failing to sleep. There were thirteen families on the list to be notified. But, by the grace of God, mine wasn’t on it.
“The prosecutor’s office will hold the remains until examinations are complete,” Henry said. “Services can’t be planned until the bodies are released.”
“How long?”
“Days. Possibly longer.”
Mercury pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “Has Reaper been to the site yet?”
“My brother’s working on getting us a window with the cantonal police.”
“Good. We’ll meet once everyone is awake. There are decisions that won’t wait. Has Katarina come down?”
“No.”
“She has a broken arm and a knee that failed her twice last night,” Mercury said. “The field medic taped gauze over her head wound, and that’s the extent of the medical care she’s received. She needs a hospital, not a bedroom, and she won’t ask for help getting to either one. Would you check on her? She won’t want you to. Go anyway.”
I was on my feet before she finished.
I knockedand opened the door when no one answered.
She stood at the foot of the bed, trying to get her shirt off. Her right hand had the hem, but her left arm wouldn’t cooperate past the brace, and the fabric hadbunched around her shoulders and trapped her good arm halfway up.
“Mercury sent you.”
“She’s worried about your arm.”
“My arm is fine. What’s not fine is that I can’t undress myself. I need to shower. I have dust in my hair and blood in places I don’t want to think about, and I can’t do any of it one-handed.”
“I can help. I’ll face the other way, and you tell me what you need.”
She stared at me for two full seconds.
“Icannotbe the first woman you’ve seen naked.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“Then, stop acting like it and come help me get this off.”
I crossed the room and took the hem of the shirt from where she’d left it bunched at her shoulders. I eased the fabric over the brace on her left arm first, working it past the rigid edges so it wouldn’t catch, then over her head.
I’d noticed Katarina Stepanova the first day I visited the estate in Lausanne. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders, and her eyes were almost black. She hadthe kind of beauty that made it difficult to focus on whoever was speaking when she was in the room. We hadn’t worked together much in three weeks, but I’d noticed every time she entered a room. She was lean and athletic and carried herself like someone who’d earned every inch of the body she lived in.
Now, she stood in front of me without a shirt. Her breasts were small but perfect, and her dusty pink nipples made my mouth water. Then I saw the bruising. The purple ran from her ribs to her hip in a solid sheet. She didn’t cover herself or look away. She huffed as if I was wasting her time.
“Trousers next. I can’t bend the knee far enough to get them past it.”
I crouched in front of her and undid the button. She settled her good hand on my shoulder for balance while I worked the trousers down past the knee brace. Her fingers dug in when the fabric caught and she had to shift her weight onto the bad leg. I got them clear, and she stepped out of them.
The thong had the same problem. It wasn’t getting past her knee without help. She looked at me. I crouched down, hooked my fingers into the fabric, andworked it past the brace. My face was level with her hips. She stepped out of it, and at that distance, there was no mistaking that her body had responded to the last three minutes the same way mine had. She was better at hiding it. I rushed to the window so fast that I nearly tripped over the cane she’d left by the bed.
“Blackjack.”
“Give me a second.”
