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"There's a second body in the living room. Hurry up with that thing."
"Guardians are not supposed to interfere with investigations." His voice was short, impatient.
"I don't really care what guardians are and aren't supposed to do." Which was more of a truth than Cole would ever know - and a statement that would annoy the hell out of Jack when he heard it. Not that he'd be surprised by it, mind. "How about you quit worrying about what I'm supposed to be doing, and just put a little speed into what you're supposed to be doing?"
"If you'd shut the fuck up and let me concentrate, I might be able to."
I somehow managed to restrain my grin, and looked back at the wrecked living room. A glint in the left-hand corner of the room, near one of the rear windows, caught my eye. The sun had come out briefly from behind the clouds, and in the sudden beam of sunlight, something sparkled a pretty red. It didn't look like the sort of sparkle you got with glass. Even glass covered in blood.
Frowning, I carefully picked my way through the mess. A muttered curse followed my steps, meaning Cole still hadn't got the mobile unit together yet. I kept my phone on record and knelt near the shadows.
Sitting in the dust that had accumulated behind the now upturned TV was a ring. I recorded its position with the phone, then carefully picked it up. It was thick and silver and obviously worth a bit of money. Not the sort of thing a thief usually left lying about carelessly. So, where had it come from? Gautier? I'd never seen him wear rings or jewelry of any kind in the past. But then again, I'd never known he had a hankering for skinning before today, either. I suppose the ring could have belonged to Dunleavy - only this ring was designed for a man with thin fingers. Dunleavy had fat little sausages. And if he'd stolen it, he surely would have taken more care of it.
This ring would fit Gautier's fingers. So, was it his? And was losing it accidental or international? With that psycho, anything was possible.
When I brought it into the sunlight the engraving on the heavy, flat top revealed itself. It was a dragon with three heads, its claws wicked barbed and body snakelike. Six bloodred rubies gleamed in the dragon's eyes.
Just looking at it had chills skating across my skin and I had no idea why.
"You are not supposed to be moving evidence."
Cole's sharp voice made me jump a little. I tried to cover the movement by turning the ring over in my hand and studying the inside of it. "I recorded its position."
"That is not the point."
"No, the point is I'm stepping into your territory and you don't like it." I looked up at him then. "Get used to it, buddy, because I'm going to be messing up your life a whole lot more in months to come."
His stance stiffened a little. No male wolf likes to be challenged, especially when the challenge was as ambiguous as mine. "When the cleanup team arrives on a crime scene, they are in charge, not the paid killers."
His voice was filled with cold contempt and anger swirled through me again. People who judged en masse rather than on an individual basis annoyed the crap out of me. I was sick enough of defending my heritage to all and sundry. I didn't need to start having to defend my job as well - especially when it was a job I hadn't particularly wanted in the first place. "Well, this paid killer has never been one to follow the rules. Just ask Jack."
"Oh, I intend to."
I shook my head in disgust and looked back down at the ring. There was something written on the inside of the band, but it wasn't in a language I recognized. Actually, it looked like nothing more than a bunch of weird little symbols.
I took a photo of it then rose. Cole pressed the mobile unit against the roof, waited until the suction took hold, then hit the record button. The unit whirred to life, and one of the lenses behind the black glass sphere did a circuit around the room before coming back to rest on the two of us. From here on in, any movement and all conversation would be tracked.
"What?" he said, finally looking back at me.
I held out the ring. "Do you recognize the language?"
He took the ring and studied it intently. "Looks old Persian, but I can't be sure."
I raised an eyebrow. "Persia doesn't exist as such, anymore."
"No, but old Persian cuneiform inscriptions do exist, and they look like this."
"And how do you know that?"
"I study old-language forms in my free time."
He had to be kidding, right? "So those weird little pics are actually words?"
"Yes."
"Could you get a priority transcription on it, and send me the results?"
He looked at me for a moment, then moved to the door and grabbed a plastic bag from his kit. "I'll see what I can do."
