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“Hmmm… Why don’t I believe you?”
I walked closer, loathing the nausea that had already formed in my stomach. She’d just uncovered a body, grabbing a pair of gloves.
“You know why I’m here. Is that the body the hunter found?”
“It is. I was just going to pull him apart. Would you like to join in?”
It was her way of teasing me as well as trying to get me used to being around the gruesome tasks she performed. It hadn’t worked. I hated being here. “Funny. You’re a riot this morning.” When she pulled out a syringe, I dared myself to walk even closer. “What are you doing?”
“Testing his blood.”
“For?”
“Cyanide poisoning.”
“What?” My thoughts drifted to one of the comments Diego had made about not being able to handle the man’s death himself.
She nodded. “Do you detect a faint hint of bitter almond?”
“Not really.”
“Take a deep whiff.”
I did as she asked, finally able to detect the slight odor. “I got it. He took pills?”
“Or inhaled it either by his choice or forced to. I suspect that’s how he died. He has no gunshot wounds, no signs of being strangled, and no knife wounds.”
“Could the beating have killed him?”
“No. Granted, my guess is I’d find the guy has a few broken ribs along with the destruction of his nose, but that’s not what killed him. I’m certain it’s cyanide, which adds to the mystery of what’s going on in this town.”
After taking the blood, she started cutting off his clothes. When the tattoo came into view, she shook her head. “Same crude ink as the other victim.”
“Yes, it is. Let me ask you a question in confidence. Have you ever heard of a secret society of gang members who are willing to die as long as their families are well cared for?”
She eyed me carefully, taking a deep breath before walking with the syringe toward a series of vials on a long lab table. I was forced to wait as she began the test, noticing how tense she’d become. “Where did you hear that?”
“From someone who knows about these things.” I walked closer, watching as she continued working. Only when I placed the bag holding the bloody cloth onto the counter did she look up from what she was doing.
“What’s that?”
“Maybe evidence. I need you to run a DNA test on our victim and the blood on the cloth. Can you do that?”
“You are a mystery as of late. Where did that come from?”
“It’s best I didn’t tell you.”
“What have you gotten yourself into the middle of, Sabrina?”
“The truth is I don’t know just yet.”
“You looked great on television. I could tell dear Brandy was terrified of you.” Her grin forced a groan from me.
“She followed me around.”
“As all good reporters will do.”
I had a feeling she was fishing for information. “Do you know anything about the organization I mentioned?”
