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She frowned in thought then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why? Do you know him?”
“Not sure. The name Barry Landrieu rings a bell, and I kind of get the feeling I’ve seen him before, but…” I sighed and straightened. “Hell, I probably arrested him once or something.” Though even as I said it I knew that wasn’t it. Damn it, this was going to bug the ever-loving crap out of me until I figured it out.
I turned my attention to the gangly young man. “Hi. I’m Kara Gillian. I’d shake your hand but I don’t want to take it out of my pocket.”
He gave an awkward chuckle. “Drew Blackall. Nice to meet you.”
“Drew’s fresh out of the Academy,” Jill informed me. “He told me he wanted to be just like the CSI people on TV,” she added, face completely neutral.
He turned a bright shade of crimson, and I grinned. “And how long did it take for her to disabuse you of that notion?”
“About ten minutes,” he admitted.
I was almost surprised it had taken that long. Jill had several ready-made rants about the inaccurate ways her profession was portrayed on TV and how such portrayals were detrimental to law enforcement and forensic labs.
Jill gave a pleased sigh. “Ah, I do love shaping young minds.”
I snorted. “All right, I’m going to go talk to the witness. I’m freezing my tits off out here.”
“He’s a celebrity,” Drew blurted out, then flushed as we both looked at him. “The witness. I mean, um, not like a movie star, but he’s on TV and people around here know him.…” he trailed off, face coloring.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I said. “Who is he?”
Drew gave an eager smile. “Roman Hatch!” he said. “He’s on ESPN and he used to play for—”
“I know who he is,” I interrupted, unable to completely hide the slight wince. “Roman Hatch. Former linebacker at LSU. They called him ‘Hatchet Man.’ Played for Green Bay and went to the Pro Bowl twice. Two years ago he had a career-ending knee injury, and now he’s a color commentator for ESPN.”
Jill cocked an eyebrow at me. “And here I thought you didn’t know anything about sports.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know anything about sports. But I know Roman.” I paused, shrugged. “I went to LSU. And I, uh, dated him for a couple of months during my senior year.”
The look of astonishment on her face was almost enough to make me not mind the cold. “I think this shocks me more than…um…your house,” she said. I was pretty sure she’d been about to say something about my summoning demons and had caught herself just in time. Luckily Drew didn’t seem to be aware that Jill had censored herself. He stared at me in awe as if I’d just announced I was the new quarterback for the New Orleans Saints.
Jill shook her head and let out a low whistle. “Wow. You just don’t strike me as the type who would ever date a football player.”
“Yes. Because I’m not,” I said emphatically. “Hence the reason we aren’t still together.”
Her eyes flashed with wicked humor, and I knew she was dying to say something obnoxious about the type of men I currently had in my life. Good thing—for my sake—that the tech was here, and she was forced to restrain herself.
Any further commentary was cut short by the arrival of Coroner’s Office personnel as they maneuvered their stretcher over bumps and debris in the trail.
The Coroner’s Investigator gave me a dour nod before stooping to peer at the body. Clearly he was just as thrilled to be out in the cold as I was. He pulled on latex gloves then gave a nod to his assistant. Together they rolled Mr. Landrieu onto his back while Drew dutifully snapped pictures, and I stood back and shivered. The Investigator crouched again and ran gloved hands over the victim’s skull and carefully examined the rest of the body.
“No obvious sign of injury or foul play,” he finally stated. “Looks like the blood is from a nosebleed. Doc’ll have to figure out if that had anything to do with the cause of death.” He stood. “You need a looksee?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied. A shimmer of unease swept over me as I stepped toward the body and I shot a quick glance around, suddenly weirded out for absolutely no reason I could name. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No animals or movement. Anything with any sort of common sense was surely holed up in its nest. I shifted into othersight, but it didn’t reveal anything sinister.
Still strangely unnerved, I crouched by the body. I felt as if something was pricking at my arcane senses, far too faint for me to be able to pinpoint. Too faint to even be sure that’s what was bothering me. Maybe I’m simply delirious from the cold.
Familiarity tickled madly as I took a hard look at the man’s face, but his features were distorted from the way he’d been lying. Impressions from leaves and dirt marred his cheek, along with the dull red tinge of lividity from the settling of the blood in his body. An ant casually traipsed across the milky white surface of his eye. Another was busy at the dried blood by his nose. The flies would be on him as soon as it warmed up. A few more days out here and the eyes, nose and mouth would be teeming with maggots, busily helping the decomposition process along.
“Kara…â???” Jill murmured. I abruptly realized that the Coroner’s Office people were waiting for me to finish my observations so that they could get him into the body bag. Mumbling an apology, I stood and backed away a couple of steps while they rolled the body smoothly into the bag and zipped it closed.
Jill turned to Drew. “Why don’t you go on back to the van and start in on the paperwork.” He nodded and obediently trotted after the CO people as they trundled the loaded stretcher carefully back down the trail. As soon as they were out of earshot she gave me a penetrating look. “You saw something wonky, didn’t you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I thought I felt something strange, but I didn’t see anything.” I gave her a sharp look. “Why? Did you feel something?”
“No. It’s just that your eyes go funny when you’re looking for your woowoo stuff.”
