Page 14 of The Accidental Detectives

God, I miss pie.

I shook my finger at her. “You promised no flippin’ murder board, Marty. We established boundaries before we started this nutty gig, remember? I promised not to be insensitive and you promised not to do stupid, cliché stuff. JFC, does a murder board get any more cliché?”

She wrinkled her nose at me, sticking her tongue out. “Oh, hush, sourpuss. It’s a great way to keep track of all our clues and suspects.”

My lips went thin with distaste. “We don’t have enough clues or suspects to warrant a murder board, Fibonacci.”

“Are you guys gonna fight?” Bertrand asked from behind his camera with a hesitant glance. “Because if ya are, I don’t wanna miss it. Conflict is good for ratings. It adds texture, too. All good directors say so.” He tapped the camera.

“If you keep hassling me, little cub, I’m gonna introduce you to fights. You’ll become so familiar, they’ll put your pic in thedictionary right beside the word,” I growled at him, snapping my teeth.

Marty planted her hands on her hips, her bangle bracelets clinking together. “We are absolutely not going to fight, Bertrand. We’re going to investigate. Now, tell us whatyoufound, Detective Statleon?”

I told them about the cop and what he said to whoever the hell Dunst was, and about the fake fingernail on the backside of the nightstand, showing them the picture I’d taken.

Wanda gasped, hopping up from her chair. “Oh, dear. Brenda has those nails on right now.”

That made me wonder. My nature is suspicious from the jump, but this made no sense. “Are we fucking being played here? Maybe shedidkill the dude, and she’s using us as…”

“As what?” Marty asked, tapping the whiteboard. “That makes no sense either. What would be the purpose of hiring us then?”

Wanda clucked her tongue. “Deflection? Maybe she’s using us as a distraction so she can plan her getaway? Buy herself some time?”

Marty crossed her arms over her chest. “But they haven’t even accused her of anything yet. So far, she’s just a person of interest, according to the news. Even the cop Nina heard in the apartment said they had nothing to connect her to the crime. No physical evidence.”

“But he did say he thought Brenda whacked Owen. Maybe she fucking panicked? Put the cart before the horse?” I pointed out, throwing my feet up on my desk. “When you hear shit on the news connecting you to a murder, I think it’s fair to say it can make you panic, right? Maybe we’re a panic hire? Maybe she knew the clan would shit a yak, hearing her name mentioned in an investigation for the murder of a human, and she’s headin’ shit off at the pass?”

“Or she’s guilty and she’s covering her tracks,” Wanda murmured, tapping her pen against her desk.

Rolling my tongue along my cheek, I gave what I’d heard the cop say some thought. “You know, that fingernail… The cop said he was gonna go over the place because some chick in forensics named Sharna sucked at her job. What if he finds that damn fingernail? What if he takes it to wherever the frick they take stuff to check for DNA, and find Brenda’s DNA on it? That the same kind of nail she’s wearing turned up there can’t be random. But here’s another question for the wonderful fucking whacky world of the paranormal. As vampires, do we even still have DNA?”

Marty rubbed her temples before taking another sip of tea. “That’s not something I’ve ever even thought about, but it sure would help if we had someone on the inside to help us navigate.” She pointed to Wanda. “Put that on your list of things to look into, would you?

Shit. We really could use a connection or two. “We could always tap Mara. Maybe she can help?” Mara, Marty’s sister-in-law, was a scientist.

Wanda pushed herself away from her desk and began to pace. “Let’s do that, but in the meantime, it stands to reason that if a vampire is dead, so is their hair, nails, etcetera, right? And don’t they have to have something of hers to prove it’s her DNA on the fingernail?”

“But think of all the archeologists who dig shit up and use DNA to figure out who they’re digging up. It’s called ancient DNA analysis. I saw it on National Geographic. But beyond that, we don’t even know if it’s hers, Wanda. It’s one of those press-on doohickeys you two divas use all the time. I mean, can they even get DNA from a press-on nail?”

“They can get DNA from a rock. I saw it onInvestigation ID,” Marty said with a cluck of her tongue. “But it must be hers, Nina.It’s too much of a coincidence not to be Brenda’s. It’s the same color, same length.”

I shifted in my chair. That didn’t sit right with me, and it wasn’t just because I liked Brenda. It just didn’t fucking feel right.

“So here’s what we’re lookin’ at. Either someone wants to frame Brenda for murder, or she whacked Owen.”

Wanda stopped pacing. “But what’s her motive?”

I shrugged. I wanted to be on Brenda’s side, but she was making shit difficult. “Maybe she really didn’t know she’d been catfished, found out he was married and wanted revenge. You know, whack him first, ask questions later? I mean, those messages got a little hot. I’d be pissed if the dude I was making the verbal sexy-sexy with was married and had kids.”

Marty rolled her eyes, straightening some string on the whiteboard. “That’s a Nina move if I ever heard one and it makes no sense. You smelled the fear on her as well as I did. She can’t fake that.”

“Yeah, but what was she afraid of? Maybe she was just afraid she’d be caught by the clan. We can’t smell specifics, Blondie. We just smell fear.”

“While that’s true?—”

“Boss!” Darnell yelled as he came down the stairs, the thump of his high-top sneakers music to my ears.

I loved my big squishy demon. That he’d decided to join us in this frickin’ crazy warmed my nonexistent heart. He’s helped us with more accidental turnings than I can count on my fingers and toes. He’s always willing to back us up, no matter what. You had to love that kind of loyalty.

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