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Somehow I resisted the urge to give Crawford the finger.
“Lida Moran filed a request to drop the investigation into her attack yesterday, but then I saw that her manager had died.” Knight gave me a shrug, eyes on me. “I hate it when people try to drop cases after I’ve put work into them. Especially when there’s a chance that it was a bullshit case to begin with.”
I snorted and leaned up against the door frame. “Aw, where’s your trust in human nature?”
“That died a long time ago,” he said.
“Well, actually the whole thing may be a lot more complicated than a bullshit publicity stunt,” I told Knight. “I have two murders, and I’m convinced they’re connected, but I haven’t pinned down the link yet.”
“What makes you think they’re connected?” Marco asked.
Crawford cleared his throat and flicked a glance from me to the door.
I took the hint and entered fully, closing the door behind me. “The thing that threw Lida in the river was a golem, or something similar,” I explained in a low voice. “I could feel a weird resonance from it, and I felt that same resonance at the crime scenes for both of these victims. Plus, our pathologist said that whoever killed Vic Kerry was ‘strong as shit’ since he apparently crushed Kerry’s neck.” I flicked a quick glance at Crawford to see how he was handling this, but he merely looked slightly pained. It was progress.
Knight let out a low whistle. “So, how do you kill this golem thing?”
I had to shrug helplessly. “I’m not sure, mostly because I’m not really certain what it is. I’m only calling it a golem because it’s easier to say than ‘arcane construct’, but it really doesn’t quite fit with the stuff about the golems of legend. I didn’t see any letters on its forehead, and it seems a bit too ... nimble for that sort of thing.” I shrugged again. “Not that I’m any sort of expert. My current theory is that maybe it’s some sort of earth elemental that’s being controlled and directed.” I sighed. “And even that’s a wild guess at best. I don’t know a damn thing about elementals.”
Crawford frowned. “Is there anything wrong with just shooting the ever-living shit out of the damn thing?”
I grinned. “Not as far as I know. Extreme violence, for the win!”
Crawford’s phone rang, delaying any further speculation on the best way to destroy a creature I knew next to nothing about. He answered the phone, listened intently to the caller with a deepening frown, then gave me a penetrating look that didn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling. He muttered a thanks to the caller and hung up.
“Roger Peeler was found dead near his apartment,” he said, voice tight. “It supposedly looks like an accidental death. A fall into a drainage culvert.”
“Shit,” I breathed. I knew it was no accident. Guilt rose in a choking wave. I should have seen this coming. I should have done more to warn him, protect him.
“It’s not your fault, Kara,” Knight murmured. “You don’t even know what the connection is. How were you supposed to know for certain he was in danger? And you did warn him, didn’t you?”
I scrubbed at my face, fiercely controlling the sudden desire to cry. “Yeah,” I said hollowly. “I warned him.” I shook my head. “Fuck. It has to have something to do with the money.”
“You’ll find it,” Crawford stated so firmly that I had to smile a bit at his confidence in me. I only hoped it wasn’t misplaced. “Now go,” he said. “Get your ass out to the scene.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Knight said.
“I don’t mind,” I replied, secretly relieved to have the company. “As long as it’s okay with Sarge.”
Crawford nodded. “Fine with me. I’ll meet you out there as soon as I let the various rank know what’s going on.”
I exited Crawford’s office and headed to the door, still trying to shed the clinging guilt.
“Yo, Kara.”
I turned back to see who had called my name, surprised to see Pellini standing about twenty feet down the hall, frantically gesturing me over. I frowned, then glanced at Knight.
“Gimme a sec,” I said. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, and I walked toward Pellini. He looked oddly agitated, which sent my natural distrust and suspicion into full alert.
“I need to talk to you before you leave,” he said in an urgent whisper, gesturing again, this time to the copy room. “In private.”
I scowled. “Pellini, if this is some kind of bullshit stunt—”
He actually looked pained. “It’s not. I just need to talk to you. I swear I’m not pulling anything.”
I gave him my best “I don’t trust you farther than I can throw you” look, but went ahead and stepped into the copy room. He came in behind me and shut the door while I regarded him with narrowed eyes, but to my surprise his face held nothing but something that looked an awful lot like concern.
“What’s up, Pellini?”
