I hesitated. “What lead?”
“Professor Roberts’ office. We’re going to break in and search for clues. Thanks to our informant at the police station, I even have an extra key. So, technically, it’s breaking-in lite. He also gave me something else that’s useful.”
“What’s that?”
“Professor Roberts’ cell phone. Trouble is, it’s completely dead and I don’t have the right charger, so we’ll need to get that tonight as well.” Caden bent over and unzipped his bag. He placed a cell phone and the file folder on my TV tray/coffee table. “So we agree then? I’ll crash here for a couple of nights, on the floor, while we work the case.”
Loki barked, voicing his opinion. I could only assume he was in favor. I shrugged, trying to play it cool. Caden had already seen me with noodle stains and fuzzy slippers—why not add bedhead to the mix? Besides, if Zoe found out I had the opportunity and didn’t take it, she’d probably defriend me.
“Fine. You can stay.”
“Great.” He eyed the empty cardboard cup on my nightstand. “Got any more ramen?”
Chapter 8
“The autopsy report confirmed Professor Roberts died from blunt force trauma.” Caden poked a pair of chopsticks into his noodles and took a large bite. He sat on the floor, back against the bed frame, with the container of noodles propped on his knee. It was his second cup. So far, I’d been a generous host.
I scanned the report, flipping through the pages. “The medical examiner didn’t find any tattoos or symbols on her body, which would suggest an outward affiliation with a supernatural element. However, there was a demon mark on the back of her neck. She crossed their paths somehow.”
“Or she’s big into the occult and just hadn’t been to the tattoo parlor yet. Maybe she was scared of needles. How many tattoos do you have, Graves?”
My fingers moved absently to the mark on my arm. “You know I have a Spellwork symbol. Everyone in the organization has one, yourself included.”
“Yeah, but was it branded or magically infused?”
I rubbed the skin, remembering the day I received my symbol. The choice had been mine: either sit for the fiery brand that scarred the tissue or have it applied with a simple spell. I was only nine and had just gotten my ears pierced. The memory of the hot needle puncturing my ear had made the choice easy.
What I didn’t realize at the time was the choice came with a stigma. The look in Caden’s eyes proved the stigma was still alive today.
“Magically infused.”
“Ah, the painless version. No surprises there.”
Outwardly, I ignored his observation. Inside, I felt the sting of his derision. I wasn’t about to convince him I was some badass hunter, which he so clearly expected me to be. Better to pick my battles. But he wasn’t getting any more ramen tonight. At least, none I hadn’t magically doctored.
Gleefully imagining him eating tainted noodles, I turned to the last page in the report. “No toxicology, but it’s safe to say she had alcohol in her system. She wasn’t drunk though. I saw her in the hallway minutes before she was killed. Her hand gestures were angry, not tipsy. She definitely wasn’t drunk enough to hurl herself into the platform holding the sculpture.”
“That thing probably weighed four hundred to five hundred pounds, and look at the way it fell.” Caden tossed his empty cup into the trash then spread the crime scene photos out on the carpet. “Her body isn’t directly beneath the platform. It’s as if someone threw the sculpture a couple of feet before hitting her.”
“And we know it didn’t move by itself. I’m sure the police had the same questions, but how do you explain something impossible without sounding crazy?”
“You don’t. You label it a freak accident and move on.”
“So we’re looking for a suspect with magic powerful enough to move a heavy object, or someone with superhuman strength. There’s also the why. Why Professor Roberts? What was she involved in?”
Caden nodded and resumed his position against the bed frame. “You saw her arguing with a coworker in the hallway. Whatever the reason, it could have been the motive.”
“True, but we have to consider that everyone at the party is a suspect. Even the waitstaff. Many of them go to the university and may have interacted with her. I’m in one of her classes now.”
“What did you make of her?”
“Brilliant. Well-spoken. She had a habit of pacing while she lectured. She probably wore holes in the floor. I never sensed any magic around her or on her possessions in the classroom. Can’t speak to her office—I didn’t attend office hours.”
“And what about at the party?”
“It’s hard to tell. I sensed your magic, but I wasn’t exactly looking for anyone else. Plus, it’s easy enough to cloak if you intend to murder someone. There could have been a demon in our midst, and we wouldn’t have known it.”
“That’s true. Let’s not forget the murder could have been done for hire.”
