Page 12 of Deadly Avarice
A police vehicle rolled up and I breathed in a sigh of relief when I saw Becks get out. I gave her a brief nod of appreciation before she headed in the direction of the wailing Mrs. DeVane.
The ME wasn’t far behind. We had a new one, Dr. Evelyn Stowe. I’d worked with her on about a dozen cases by now and liked her. The woman was small but mighty and looked like a hobbit around the beefed-up officers she was often surrounded by. What Dr. Stowe lacked in height, she more than made up for in bravado. She was Dr. McCallister’s polar opposite in personality and often joked with the other officers. Everything was fair game, and her easy demeanor and genuine gratitude forall their assistance went a long way to endearing herself with the people she worked with.
“Good evening, Detective O’Hare,” Dr. Stowe greeted as she walked toward me. “And Johns, I thought you finally had a day off.” Dr. Stowe waggled her thick, dark brown eyebrows. “Last I heard, you had a hot date with that lovely wife of yours planned.”
Johns’s cheeks flushed, and he coughed into his hand. “Yeah, well… Sandy’s not feeling too good today. She’s home with some kind of cold. It’s not terrible, but she wasn’t feeling like going out, so when the call came in, she shooed me out of the house with orders to pick up her favorite takeout and bring it back tonight. Date night’s gonna be lukewarm Italian and Netflix.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Dr. Stowe sagely answered. “Now, what have you got for me?”
“I’ve got this, Johns. Why don’t you finish up and head out?”
“Thanks, O’Hare. I’ll take you up on that.” Tilting his head, Johns offered a quick “evenin’, ma’am,” toward Dr. Stowe. I’d learned quickly that using the terms “ma’am” and “sir” were ingrained in Southern society.
As Johns walked away, I filled Dr. Stowe in on what I knew. I stayed with her as she poked and prodded the body. Dr. Stowe hummed the entire time. She had a small recorder on her that she’d talk into at times. “Help me roll him over?” Dr. Stowe looked to me and, after gloving up, I did as asked. The blood beneath Mr. DeVane’s body was congealed and stuck to his clothing. The grass below was soaked through.
“Hmm…” Dr. Stowe did some more poking before she said, “I think that’s enough. Let’s get him loaded up and back to the morgue. I’ll get the autopsy findings to you soon, Detective, but I doubt they’ll be anything too surprising. You can smell the alcohol on him.” Dr. Stowe waved a hand in front of her nose. “I’ll do tox screening and check his blood alcohol levels to make sure it isn’t a ruse from the assailant. I’ve had that more thanonce during my career. The victim smells of alcohol but it was poured into their mouth postmortem. You’ve gotta dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.”
“That you do,” I easily agreed.
“And that’s why you’re an excellent detective, O’Hare.” Dr. Stowe gave me a wink before she spun on her heel and said, “Could a couple of you young, strapping gentlemen be dears and help me load Mr. DeVane’s body on the gurney?”
More than one offered aid. It was amazing how true the saying was regarding flies and honey. Dr. McCallister could have learned a thing or two from Dr. Stowe. Then again, Morgan McCallister had been a psychopathic serial killer. I doubt spending time with Dr. Evelyn Stowe would have impacted him much. Then again…
My thoughts drifted down odd, winding roads as we finished processing the crime scene. My phone buzzed with a text from Boone and I grinned like a fool when I read the simple message asking me when I expected to be home.Home. Boone and I hadn’t officially moved in together. I still had my place, but I was hardly ever there and more and more of my personal effects migrated to Boone’s house. Boone had gone so far as to purchase another dresser he designated as mine. There were two toothbrushes in the bathroom, two sets of shampoo and conditioner, one bar of soap, two phone chargers, my favorite breakfast food and brand of milk, and best of all, my own pillow.
I sent a quick text back saying I should be free within two hours. The heart emoji I got in return made me stupid happy.
“Mrs. DeVane has agreed to go to the hospital,” Becks said, interrupting my internal joy.
“Wonderful,” I answered while slipping my phone back into my pocket. My attention turned toward the area Mrs. DeVane had been standing earlier. She was now in the back of Beck’s police cruiser. “You’re taking her?” I asked.
“It seems like the best idea. She’s comfortable with me and I don’t want there to be any further hiccups.” Becks inhaled deeply, blowing that breath out by slow degrees. “I know I’m not a physician, but Mrs. DeVane looks pretty banged up.” Becks winced. “Assuming it was the husband that did the damage, I think this is going to be a simple case.”
Cases were rarely assimpleas we wanted them to be. Still, that wasn’t my concern. My job was to gather the evidence. I’d let the lawyers, judge, and possible jury dole out the punishment. I’d need to do a lot of background checking. I’d need to get warrants for Mrs. DeVane’s medical records. Given the timeline for the alleged abuse, there was bound to be a medical trail somewhere. The trick was sometimes finding it as most domestic violence victims didn’t frequent the same medical facilities. I’d traveled this terrain more than I’d like and was, for better or worse, versed on the ins and outs.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” I assured Becks.
“I know you will. I’m always relieved when you’re on a case, O’Hare.” Becks offered me a reassuring grin before she turned and headed back to her car. I watched Becks climb into the driver’s seat before starting the car and heading out. I wouldn’t be far behind.
Fifteen minutes later, I made good on that thought and left the crime scene. All the evidence had been collected and the remaining officers were on clean-up duty—making certain the crime scene was secured. I wasn’t ready to release it yet, just in case things weren’t assimpleas Becks thought they were.
I headed back to the office. Paperwork, or more correctly, computer work, took up a lot of my time. It was the way of things in the human world. I doubted fairies did a lot of paperwork. The law was very cut and dry for them. All black and white without a hint of gray. While that seemed nice on the surface, I’d beenworking homicide long enough to understand that the color gray was a lot more common than pristine white or glimmering black.
I was gaining on the two-hour mark I’d given Boone earlier. I hit save on my documents before sending my initial report to Captain Cicely. I had one last thing to do before I headed to Boone’s. Pulling up a file I’d created this past summer, I looked at the list of somewhat familiar names and hit the print button. The names were no longer part of an active case and Captain Cicely already told me she supported my efforts to help Boone and offered her assistance.
List of names in hand, I headed for the exit, happy to be done with the day.
Boone stared, his eyes wide as he took in the names printed before him. “I don’t understand, how—”
“They’re from the McCallister case.” It was also known as theshredded soulscase. “When we were looking for regional necromancers. The Warlock Council was willing to release the names of recent human, necromancer mothers in the region. I know it’s not exactly what we want, but at least it’s a start.”
Boone’s breath caught before he lunged for me. The pieces of paper crinkled in his hands as he wrapped his arms around me and held on for dear life. “Gaia, I didn’t know you kept these. I assumed they’d been deleted, I didn’t even think… I never would have thought of this.”
I hugged him back, loving the feel of his body against mine. What I loved even more was Boone’s unyielding faith, his knowledge that I loved touching him and took every opportunity to do just that. He didn’t hesitate, there was no pause, no second-guessing that I wouldn’t want him in my arms.
“But you did think of it. You just thought the names were gone.” Boone released his octopi hold on me and leaned back, a huge-ass grin on his face.
“I should have known better.”
