Page 106 of It's a Wonderful Knife
He moved toward me, and he crouched beside the body, no doubt checking for vital signs. “Shit,” he said under his breath. “He’s dead.”
“Yeah, I know.” I moved toward the back of the building, remembering there was a storage room. A quick sweep of the small room with my flashlight revealed no one hiding. There was a back door, and I moved toward that cautiously. Whoever had stabbed Richard must have fled through that door. “Did you see anyone leave the building?” I asked.
“No. To be fair, I was focused on you though.” Max joined me, his expression grim.
“I guess this solves the question of whether or not the homeless guy killed Santiago.”
“Yeah. That’s true.” Max shifted uneasily. “Do you think we could get out of here? The smell is making me want to vomit.”
I nodded and headed toward the back door. It wasn’t locked, and when I pushed it open, it made no squeaking sounds at all. I had a feeling someone had oiled the hinges on purpose. Non-squeaking hinges were a rarity on an old building like this. Whoever had taken the time to do that had probably wanted to come and go without drawing attention.
Behind the building was a small clearing. Just beyond the grassy area was a wall of trees. I shined my light on the trees, but there were no glittering eyes staring back at me. How could someone have stabbed Richard and exited the building so swiftly? It had to be someone very familiar with the reindeer barn. Someone who apparently knew the back door didn’t squeak?
Max walked up behind me. “Why do you think they’d kill Richard?”
“I have no idea. As people go, Santiago and Richard couldn’t have been more different.”
“I agree,” Max said softly. “Santiago was a womanizer, and Richard was an asshole. Perhaps the killer just doesn’t like assholes or womanizers.”
“Could be.” Max stayed outside in the fresh air while I went back to Richard’s body. I searched the immediate area around his corpse, hoping there might be some clue as to the identity of the killer. I couldn’t find anything that stood out, but I did notice that Richard’s right hand was clenched.
Frowning, I knelt down. Usually I’d never touch a body without gloves on, but in this situation, I had to wing it. Clenching my jaw, I took hold of his still-warm hand. It didn’t take much to pry his fingers open since he’d died so recently. In the palm of his hand, I found a tiny silver ball. Or was it a pumpkin? I held it up to the light of my flashlight, turning it. At the top of the silver ball, a piece of metal protruded. Was that a bale? I rubbed my finger along the bottom edge of the ball, noticing it was jagged, as if something had broken off.
I stood, continuing to examine the ball. If I’d just found it on the ground near the body, perhaps it wouldn’t have had any significance. If it had been in the hay, it might have been there for decades. But the fact it was clutched in Richard’s hand made it a very significant, although mystifying, clue.
Tucking it in my pocket, I headed toward the back door where Max was. I stepped outside and sucked in clean air, shuddering. Once I felt less nauseated, I met Max’s curious gaze. “I found something in his hand.”
Max frowned and moved closer. “You mean stuck in his hand?”
“No, clenched in his hand.”
Max raised his brows. “Seriously?”
I dug it out of my pocket and showed it to him.
He wrinkled his brow, leaning closer. “Is that a diamond?”
“No. I think it’s sterling silver.”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. I see it better now. Huh.”
“He must have grabbed it off of the killer.”
“Okay.” Max straightened. “You could use Mona’s phone to go on the internet. Maybe you can do a search or something.”
I grimaced. “What would I search? Small silver ball?”
“There’s no serial number or anything?”
“Not that I can see.” In the trees overhead, an owl hooted.
Max shivered. “Do you think we should go up to the main house?”
“Yes. I want to know if anyone was out wandering around. Maybe someone saw something this time.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” He glanced around at the dark trees. “For once, I don’t think I’ll mind being around people.”
I gave a weak smile. “Let me just lock up the barn.” I went back inside and went into the storage room. I searched through the shelves and found some Christmas wrapping paper. I went in to where Richard’s body was, and I knelt down. It felt all wrong to disturb the body in any way, but I couldn’t risk the knife disappearing again like last time. There could very easily be prints on the handle, and I needed to try and preserve those if possible. I cautiously pulled the knife from Richard’s throat, gagging at the sound it made and the blood that seeped from the open wound. I carefully wrapped the knife in the paper, and I rose.
