Page 7 of Jagged

I laughed while Tati soothed her kid.

"You'll find out when you're older," she said, then patted her hip. "Get your stuff, baby doll. Time to head home."

"'Kay." Reagan slid from her lap and began gathering her things.

Tati met my gaze and smiled. "Those nails."

I wiggled my fingers at her. "Yup. I gotta head out for a case. You good?"

"All good. I promise to have your elementary school roommate in bed before you get home." She tossed me a Scout's Honor salute and grinned.

"You know I don't care about that."

"I know, but you like, never sleep."

"I don't have time for sleeping." I smirked and accepted the cheek kiss when she offered it. "See you later."

"Later."

I returned to the misty rain of the Seattle streets to head down to the medical examiner's office. It wasn't far from Frankie's, and I passed Jordan's Mermaid Salon on the way as well. Customers bustled inside and I narrowly avoided being seen when Finnley brought the trash out of the side door. I jogged the rest of the way when the rain picked up and made it in time to catch Zay just as he pulled into the lot. Droplets flecked my eyelashes as he hurried over to me when I pulled open the double-glass doors.

"I've always wanted to see the forensics lab here," said Zay as we headed down the hall toward the stairwell. "Apparently, it's state of the art."

"It's pretty impressive." I outpaced him on the steps, and he hurried to keep up while gripping the strap of his messenger bag. "Been there once for a case."

We landed one floor below only to be met with signs and arrows pointing toward the M.E.'s office. The green-gray paint, pristine white tile, and fresh-faced décor spruced up the place enough to cover up the fact that the workers there spent hours dissecting cadavers all day. We found the office of Ainsley Monson, MD, monogrammed in a gold plate on the door. Before I could even knock, the door opened and the bright, charming face of the woman I'd spoke to at Jordan's fairly often appeared. She beamed with excitement as if we brought her a big slice of birthday cake after everyone else forgot about her.

"Jagger, how are you?" She shook my hand then hugged me as if we were old friends. To be fair, we were old acquaintances, but still.

"All good. You?" I returned the embrace, one-armed and haphazardly at best.

"Doing good." She turned to Zay and hugged him, too. "Nice to see you."

"Um…" He gulped, but returned her hug awkwardly. "We haven't actually met yet, but hello. I'm Zay."

"Ainsley," she chirped. "Come on in." She waved us inside her office while turning on her heel.

We followed her without hesitation and took the seats she offered us. Ainsley didn't give either of us much choice before we found ourselves holding cups of freshly brewed coffee as well. I knew Ainsley to be a bit overzealous socially, but didn't quite imagine her to be such at work. For some reason, my brain coded her as more reserved. I was wrong.

"You wanted to talk about the Bleeder case, right?"

"Yes." I jumped in before Zay could. "Moreno said you examined some of the bodies."

Ainsley nodded then pointed to the files on her desk. "In expecting you, I printed out copies of my reports and some of the photos to accompany them."

"Was there something about the murders that struck you differently than others?" asked Zay, his fingers pinching a pen close to his notebook.

"Of course," chirped Ainsley, her expression bright as a butterfly fluttering in the summer breeze. "The manner of death."

Zay waited eagerly, his gaze locked on hers, but Ainsley didn't continue. She simply smiled pleasantly and sat there. A smirk made its way to my mouth as I observed the interaction. In her differences, Ainsley came across as endearing to me, but totally confusing to Zay.

"Um…" He gulped and glanced at me. "And…what was the cause of death, Doctor Monson?"

"Oh." Ainsley perked up as if it never occurred to her to respond to him before his prompting. "Exsanguination."

"Vampire serial killer?" he muttered.

Ainsley chuckled and shook her head. "Not quite." She sat forward in her chair and opened one of the files. "All of the victims were incapacitated or killed using a captive bolt pistol first." She tapped her forehead. "Before being strung up and bled out via carotid or jugular puncture. Much like they do in slaughterhouses."

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