Page 5 of Unhallowed Murder
“Logical, with more practicality than humans are usually capable of under the circumstances.”
Ronnie’s thoughts flashed to the time Martin had ordered her to be food for a vampire, and she quickly pushed the thought away and focused on her case. Josef didn’t need to know the confusion she still had around the experience. She’d intended to hate every second of it, but it had been oddly fulfilling.
“If she knew her killer, she may have let him into her home. On the other hand, if she’d been told she likely knew the person who tried to bribe her, she may’vebeen cautious about inviting people in who hadn’t been in her life in a while.” She sighed. “Why leave her at the Haunted Maze?Dammit, we need to find the crime scene.” With any luck, she’d been killed at home, but Ronnie didn’t expect to get lucky.
“The killer likely has her phone and purse. Or, had it. Once Corey has her phone number, he’s going to find out it went off the network sometime last night, and for now, we’ll assume that’s the likely approximate time of death.” She glanced at the vampire beside her. “Thank you for having whoever brought you a shirt, also bring me jeans and a shirt.” She’d already thanked him, but felt she needed to again. Before he could respond, she asked, “What country were you a general for?”
“Rome.”
“Anyone I’d recognize?”
“Without looking through your memories, I have no way of knowing how much you know of Ancient Rome.”
“My father was a history professor. My bedtime stories were full of war and blood.”
“You understand, I’m over two thousand years old and I’ve lived under at least seventy different names since then, yes? Different lives, different professions, different nationalities, different personas. I’m no longer the man who led both army and navy.”
They were approaching the victim’s home, and she told him, “Drive by slowly, so I can get a layout of the land. Make a circuit around the block and come back, please. I’m hoping I can see a little of the back of the house from another road.”
She was silent as he drove by. No signs of a person or people, and no car in the driveway.
“So you aren’t going to tell me who you were? What happened to leveling the playing field?”
He sighed. “You don’t pull punches. I like that about you. I was once Gnaeus Pompeius.”
“Pompey the Great? Really?” He made the turn onto the road behind her victim’s house, and she peered between the houses in the hopes of getting a view of the back of Wendy Abrams’ home.
“We’ll pick this conversation up later. You need to focus on your victim.”
“No lights on in the front or back of the house. She lived alone so I don’t need a warrant. Her vehicle isn’t in the driveway, which might mean she wasn’t killed at home, or it could mean they used her car to transport her body, to avoid DNA evidence in their own vehicle.”
He turned back onto the victim’s street, and she said, “Turn your lights off now, please, and come to a slow stop in front of her house.”
She had good eyesight even when human, but she let her tiger rise enough so she could look out of the cat’s eyes.
“Standard doorknob, no deadbolt. I should be able to get in without calling a locksmith.” Because the county preferred the locksmith fee over having to pay someone to install a new doorframe and door. “Would you do me a favor and hang out in the backyard, just to be sure no one exits as I’m entering?”
Josef was silent a few seconds. “There are no active brains in the home — sleeping or awake.”
Ronnie smiled at him, despite her misgivings. “You’re kind of handy to have around. Okay, I need you to stay out of the house, because there are going to be crime scene techs all over the place at some point, and you don’t want people looking at your DNA.” She pulled a ponytail holder from her small purse and put her hair into a bun at the crown of her head. Next came some gloves and her lock picking tools.
“I assume you can warn me telepathically if anyone approaches?”
“I can, Lieutenant.”
“My friends call me Ronnie.”
“You’ll let me know when it’s okay for me to use your familiar name, then.”
She looked straight at him and thought,You big dufus — I was telling you it’s okay.
He chuckled. “Touché.”
It took her less than twenty seconds to get in the front door. She turned the living room lights on and verbally announced her presence to the empty house because it was protocol and it felt wrong not to. Silly, since no one was there, but whatever.
The house looked to have been built in the sixties, with a fireplace someone had probably called art deco back then. The kitchen was a combination of old and new appliances — a diarrhea green stove and a black refrigerator. There was no dishwasher. Horror of horrors.
The living room and kitchen were one room, and a hallway led to three bedrooms and a small bathroom. One of the bedrooms had been turned into a workout room, one was a guest bedroom, and the other was the master bedroom, which boasted another bathroom.
