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One good thing about her brother living with her, there was always beer in the fridge. She opened two and took one to him.
“When an alderman is murdered, we have to assume it’s an attack on the city. So, yeah, he gets bumped up the list. Could still take a couple of days… We’ll wait longer for toxicology and DNA results.”
Pulling another chair from the table, she sat facing him. “Grandpapa’s dead.” Her brother’s brows rose as he gently nodded. “Murdered. How?”
“We’re waiting for the Med—”
“Goddamnit, Lach, don’t give me the—”
“If you’ll let me finish,” he said, calm though he raised his voice. She pursed her lips and gestured for him to continue. “We won’t know everything until the Medical Examiner’s report is complete. What we do know? From lividity and rigor, they’re putting the time of death between two and three a.m.” That was late for her grandfather to be working. Though he was a workaholic, so it wasn’t unheard of. “There was no sign of a disturbance in the house. No broken windows, no forced entry. Henry went up to his suite around nine. Made some calls. Did some paperwork. There’s evidence he wasn’t finished.”
“If it was such a peaceful scene, why do you think it’s murder?”
“There’s blood. He was shot.”
“Wasn’t security at the house?”
“In the basement,” he said. “No one reports hearing a gunshot.”
“They used a silencer? Then it has to be murder.”
Suicide didn’t even register as a possibility. Her grandfather wasn’t built that way. Many people might say the same about folks they knew, but Grandpapa certainly wouldn’t have left work unfinished before ending himself. An odd, yet significant, factor.
Lachlan’s shoulders dropped. “We can’t draw too many conclusions while they’re still processing the evidence.”
“Was anything missing?” she asked. “Any witnesses on the street?”
Her grandfather lived in a townhouse in a quiet neighborhood. People wouldn’t necessarily be wandering by, but if strangers were around, they might be noticed. Then again, it was a mature and employed cohort of neighbors. At such an early hour, most, if not all, would be sleeping.
“They’re still gathering statements.”
“At this time?”
“Not tonight,” he said. “Most people were out at work when he was found. We’re still tracking neighbors down—they’re still tracking neighbors down.”
“What was he wearing?” she asked, lowering Lachlan’s brow again. “Did it look like he was ready for bed?”
“He was in his pajamas.”
“Suggests he wasn’t expecting to receive anyone.”
“Yet someone was there.”
“Maybe someone with a key or lockpicking skills.” Which probably covered half the city. “Can’t you head this?” she asked, sliding to the edge of her chair to reach for his hand. “Is there no way? There’s no one I trust more than you to get this right.”
“I’m too close to it. I couldn’t be objective. My leading the investigation could jeopardize any prosecution.”
She sighed. “You like to think you can do anything for the people you love. Then when they need us most…”
“We can still help. Do some legwork.” He paused. “We’ll have to think about arrangements too.”
“Arrangements for—shit…” Letting go of his hand, she sank back in her chair, her fingers going through her hair. “A funeral.”
“The body won’t be released for a few weeks… What do you think about a memorial service next week?”
“And then do something quiet for the cremation later?” He shrugged. “What does Dad say?”
“We haven’t talked about it yet. There’s a lot of politicking. Who would he endorse for Henry’s seat?”
