Page 46 of Marked

Fifteen

You ready?” Scott asks as we stand outside the yellow crime scene tape. The body is on the other side of the k-rail on the west side of the I-15 freeway, close to the Flamingo Road exit. Since Jack caught him up on the Taylor situation, he’s been nice. Which is weird for us.

“Do you want me to go in first?” Jack offers as he slides on a pair of plastic gloves.

I shake my head and snap on my gloves. “No, I need to do it. It’s still my case.” I take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. As I do, I mentally check out, forcing my personal feelings to step back from the situation.

When I duck under the tape, I do so as Val the detective instead of Val the worried best friend. Jack is close behind but not close enough to suffocate me. Just enough to let me know he’s there as both my partner and my support. When exactly did he become both?

I squat down next to the headless victim, making sure I don’t step in any of the blood pooled around her. “This time the victim was killed here. She wasn’t dropped off at a club.” I state, pointing at the blood staining the dirt beneath her. The body is also lying frontside down, limbs in awkward positions as if she were thrown down. “She’s not like the last Jane Doe.”

“Does anyone happen to know who she is?” Jack asks an officer standing nearby.

“No, sir. The person who found her happened to have a flat tire on the freeway and pulled over. I have his statement but told him to standby until you guys got here,” he replies. “And we haven’t checked the body. We were waiting for you to arrive. The only thing we’ve done is let the crime tech take pictures.”

Jack nods and reaches for the pockets of our victim’s jacket. He finds a phone and clicks the center button, but he hands it off to a technician to bag as evidence when it asks for a passcode.

“Let’s roll her,” I say, trying not to assume it’s Taylor even though the body type seems very similar from behind.

Jack looks at the crime scene technicians. “You guys have everything you need?” When they nod, he looks at me then down at the body. “On the count of three.”

Jack counts down and together we very carefully roll the body over onto its back. The heavy, suffocating knot in my chests dissipates when I get a clear view of the torso. Small breasts and no crescent moon tattoo under the collarbone.

It’s not Taylor.

I’m so relieved I could vomit. Clearing the emotion from my throat I look at an expectant Jack. “It’s not her,” I whisper. “It’s not Taylor.”

The fact that he also visibly relaxes warms my decrepit heart to him more. He understands what she means to me. “I’m glad.”

I take a shaky breath and nod before focusing in on the poor woman who wasn’t so lucky. Frowning, I take a closer look at the ripped open chest cavity. I don’t know why, but this seems to be messier than the others. Yes, the others had been torn open, but this one seems to have been done with rage.

I point to a suspicious puncture wound by the torn flesh. “Does this look like it was done by a fang to you?”

Jack leans in to get a better look. “Or a claw.” He agrees and looks at me. “You think it was a wereanimal of sorts?”

I shake my head and stand. “But that wouldn’t explain the magic.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he answers, standing as well. “Perhaps there are two of them.”

“I hope not.” That would make it twice as hard. I pull off my gloves and jerk my head towards the officer who talked to us upon arrival. “Let’s go question the guy who found her.”

“Let’s.” Jack follows me over to the officer, pulling off his gloves as well.

When the officer takes us over to the witness, I stop several feet away when I see a familiar blonde sitting on the ground. “Seth?”

His bright green eyes meet mine, a relieved smile curling up his lips. “Val! I was hoping it would be you,” the warlock says as he jumps to his feet.

Hearing a growl at my back, I whirl around and put my hands flat against Jack’s chest to keep him in place. “Don’t,” I warn. “This isn’t the place. We have to be professional.”

“You don’t think this is suspicious?” Jack asks with a hiss, glaring at Seth from over my head.

“I think it’s a hell of a coincidence,” I clarify. I lightly dig my nails into his chest to make him look down at me. “You should stay here while I question him.”

“Like hell,” he snarls. “I don’t trust him. I haven’t gotten close enough to him to truly read his energy, but I have a bad feeling about him.”

I shake my head and slip my fingers into his breast pocket to pull out his tiny notebook and pen. “You’re letting my situation with him cloud your judgment, Jack.”

The tension in his face relaxes marginally at the use of his name, but his next words still have bite. “Maybe you’re the one letting it affect your judgment.”

---