Not good.
But the man in the chair wasn’t going anywhere soon. Not in that condition. One that looked remarkably similar to Doctor Splitfield’s at the museum.
Carlos went back to the hall—grabbing a scarf from a hook by the door, the only thing hanging there, on his way out. The woman still lay unconscious.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Dispatch. He reported the body and asked for assistance, officers who could take control of the scene, given he wasn’t supposed to be working right now. He hadn’t technically been cleared back to work until his next shift, two days from now. As soon as he’d relayed all theinformation, he used the scarf to secure the woman to the stair railing so she didn’t run as soon as she woke up.
If she did that, she’d either hurt herself badly or disappear and they’d never get answers as to what happened.
He was tempted to stand here and draw conclusions about what had happened. Instead, he went back into the apartment. As he walked down the hall, he called the detective working the Shrine murder case.
“Wallace.”
“It’s Officer Ryson,” he said. “If you aren’t in the middle of something, I’ve got a scene you’re going to want to look at.”
“Switch to video?”
“’Preciate it.” He switched the call to video and flipped the camera. “Friend of mine lives over on Constantine Drive, in the Bradford Residences. Third floor, couple of Dreamers.”
“This is one of those?”
“Unclear. Smacks more of the Shrine murder.” He zoomed in on the man’s hands, a single nail piercing the skin of the back of his hand, driven into the arms of the recliner. His mouth was closed, so the tongue thing was unknown and not something Carlos was going to be looking into. He’d need gloves, for starters.
“I see that. So you know the guy?”
“Not personal. Seen him once, talked to him briefly, but mostly he just made threats. The woman who lives here was covered in blood. She’s secured in the hall.” Carlos figured that as soon as she woke up, he’d hear all about it. But it was possible she’d stay silent and work her way out of the scarf. “I should check on her.”
“Do that. Take another sweep,” Detective Wallace said. “See if you can locate the phone they were using for the Elysium app. And text me the address.”
“Copy that.”
“See you in a few.”
The call ended, and Carlos stowed his phone, going back to the hallway.
The woman’s eyes were closed, but she began to stir.
Footsteps up the stairs drew his attention, and one glance down confirmed backup was on its way up. He holstered his weapon and pulled his badge, sliding it on his belt, and waited.
The two men who came to the third floor were both Caucasian, one with red hair and the other blond. Not men he’d seen around the precinct.
“Hey.” Carlos lifted both hands for a second. “Officer Ryson with the Twelfth Precinct.”
“Mirason.” The blond guy held out his hand and they shook. “This is Zimmerman.”
Carlos shook the hand of the redhead. “Nice to meet you guys.” He took a breath and began, “Deceased inside. She ran out. No idea if she is involved, or just found him. Both are Dreamers. Orwerein his case. Detective Wallace from the Twelfth is on his way, because he’s working the Shrine case, and at face value this seems to be connected.”
“Got it.” Mirason nodded. “We’ll call for an ambulance for her, and get the info relayed up the chain.”
“Thanks. I’m on medical leave for another day. Got a dose of that compound from today, right in the face.”
Zimmerman said, “Whoo-ee that was a bad one. People going crazy.” He lifted his arm to show Carlos three scratches in a row. “Got caught by a lady’s nails.”
“It was bad.” Carlos nodded. “I need to do another sweep of the apartment before the detective gets here. He ordered me to look for the phone.”
Mirason motioned to the unconscious woman. “Well, she ain’t hiding it.” Then lifted his chin. “I’ll go with you.Zimmerman, call for medical and let the sergeant know there’s a body connected to a case at the Twelfth.”
“Got it.” Zimmerman stood over the woman and grabbed his radio.
