Bear Claw Lawman. Jessica Andersen

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СКАЧАТЬ not right now, okay?”

      “When?”

      Seeing that Gigi wasn’t going to give it up—she was still in that slightly sickening, more than slightly annoying “everyone should be as happy as me” phase of her relationship—Jenn blew out a breath. “After the Death Stare case is closed. Until then, I want to stay focused on this.” Her gesture took in the scene and the spatter, and for a moment the smell intruded, bringing a stab of pity for a man who probably didn’t deserve it, followed by a sting of guilt that she was letting Nick distract her again, and he wasn’t even in the room. Or her life.

      Gigi sent her a long look. “You know what I think? I think that—” Her phone chimed, interrupting with the two-note tone that said it was incoming info from Dispatch. Jenn let out a sigh of relief as Gigi answered with, “Go for Gigi.” She listened for a moment, then nodded. “I’m on my way.”

      “Please tell me it’s not another torture victim.” The Investor—or whoever was doing this—had never hit twice in one night before…but he’d also never shed this much blood before, or used his makeshift weapons with such vicious abandon.

      “No, but it’s related.” At Jenn’s look, Gigi grimaced. “It’s a murder-suicide, guy and his girlfriend. Looks like he was flying high on Death Stare, and snapped before he OD’d.”

      “Oh.” Jenn swallowed an uncharacteristic surge of nausea. “Damn it. I thought it was off the streets.”

      “Apparently not all the way.” Gigi took a look around, lips flattening. “I hate to leave you here alone.” The analysts tried to work in pairs, but it wasn’t always possible.

      Jenn waved her off. “I won’t be alone. There are plenty of cops in the building doing door-to-doors.”

      “That’s not what I meant.”

      “I know.” Gigi was the only one who knew how much the actual on-scene work bothered Jenn. But it was a part of the job, and one she’d learned to tolerate. “Go on. I’ve got this. We’ve nearly finished the first sweep, anyway. Another hour, maybe less, and I can take this stuff back to the lab and get started on the preliminary runs.” That was the part she was good at, and where she could make a difference for the case…and the victims.

      Gigi was already packing her gear, of course. They didn’t really get a say in where they went, or when. “You don’t mind taking all of it back with you, mine as well as yours?”

      “Not a problem. If I need to, I’ll get one of the cops to help me carry it downstairs.”

      “Promise me you won’t try to do it all yourself?” Gigi’s tone was suddenly intense.

      Jenn looked up at her friend. “What?”

      Wearing her heavy parka now, cheeks flushing from the heat in the apartment, Gigi shrugged and looked a little sorry that she’d said anything. “I just…I don’t know. It worries me that you keep so much to yourself. I want you to know you can talk to me…or if not me, then Matt. Or someone.”

      Not sure how they had gotten here, Jenn rocked back on her bootied heels. “I’m fine, really.”

      “You keep saying that.”

      “Because it’s true.” Or close enough. And the parts of her that weren’t fine weren’t the sort of thing her new friends in her new home could help with. History was history, baggage was baggage, and she needed to deal with it herself. “Thanks, though. I mean it.”

      Gigi wavered for a moment, then exhaled. “I need to get going. Damn that drug.”

      Relieved by the change in subject—though equally frustrated by the situation in Bear Claw—Jenn said, “We’re going to get the bastard, Gigi. One of these days he’s going to make a mistake and we’re going to get him.”

      Granted, that wouldn’t fix things for the victims who’d already died, or their families. But still.

      Gigi headed for the door that opened from the small apartment into the fifth-floor hallway. She stripped off her booties and gloves in the doorway and took a long look back at the scene. “I hope to hell we get him soon.”

      “Me, too.” Jenn lifted a hand. “Keep your eyes sharp.” It was a saying from her old crime lab, one of the few things she’d brought with her to Bear Claw.

      “You, too. And don’t forget to have someone help you carry that stuff down.” With that, Gigi let the door swing shut behind her and her booted footsteps moved off down the hall.

      Jenn blew out a long, slow breath that didn’t do much to ease the tightness in her chest as she found herself alone in a dead man’s apartment.

      On one level it was a relief to have Gigi—and her probing questions—headed somewhere else. On another, though, her departure sucked the life out of the room, letting the smell crowd closer, until the atmosphere felt thick and cloying, like it was sticking to Jenn’s skin.

      “Get a grip,” she muttered. “You wanted to be back working in a crime lab, and you got what you wanted. Now deal with it and do your job.”

      It took her nearly an hour to process the main sitting area, where Dennison’s murder had taken place. With the knives, tools and tablecloth all documented, labeled and packed away, she moved into the victim’s bedroom.

      This particular crime scene was unusual in that the victim was also on the P.D.’s most wanted list, which meant she wasn’t just looking for evidence that would help them identify his killer, but also anything that might lead them to the other fugitive militiamen…or their leader.

      It was a complicated case, both challenging and frustrating.

      The cops had already searched the other rooms, but she was seeking less obvious clues. And although the aha moment of an analyst finding exactly the right strand of hair sitting alone on an otherwise pristine carpet was pure Hollywood fiction—the reality was more along the lines of dust bunnies and dead ends—there were occasional aha moments in real life, too.

      Her instincts quivered over some papers wadded in a wastebasket next to the bed, and again over a pair of boots lying near the closet as if they’d just been kicked off. They had dirt embedded in the treads…and that was her kind of evidence. Figuring out where the victim had been prior to his death could be very, very useful, and that was just the sort of thing she could do using the soil.

      Maybe. Hopefully.

      Whistling softly under her breath, she headed out into the main room and crouched down to rummage at the bottom of her kit for a larger evidence bag. The creak of the hallway door behind her shot adrenaline into her system and had her heart bumping, but logically she knew who it had to be.

      “Gigi told you to come up here, didn’t she?” Straightening, she turned toward the door. “Well, I’m not ready—”

      A man rushed her and slammed a fist into her face.

      Pain exploded alongside shock and Jenn reeled back with a scream. Her foot snagged on her evidence kit and she fell. Her heart hammered as she grabbed the kit, tried to roll away, tried to get away, crying, “No! Help! Somebody help me!”

      He followed her, wrenched СКАЧАТЬ