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I’d shed no tears for him. He’d conspired to murder Bran Cornick, the Marrok who ruled the wolves in this part of the world—the man who made being a werewolf less of a nightmare than it might have been. Elizaveta was still mad at Bran for outing the wolves—I’d always secretly wondered if she’d been a part of that mess, too, if only by being complicit.
Nadia lifted a pair of deep gray eyes to mine and smiled at me, light crow’s feet dispelling the illusion of youth that her fine-pored skin and gray-free, seal-brown hair gave her. But the appearance of youth was no great loss because her smile was big and sweet.
“Warren,” she said. She’d been born in the Tri-Cities and not a hint of Russian accent touched her voice. “You look . . .”
“Dressed up?” I said looking down at my slacks. “I’m working for Kyle’s firm and they are a bit upscale. I got to keep the boots, though. As long as I remember to polish ’em once in a while.”
She flushed a little. “I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry. I didn’t know you were a lawyer.”
“Nah,” I told her. “Kyle’s the lawyer.” I introduced her to him. She took the hand he held out and murmured her greeting. “I’m the gofer,” I told her, answering the question she hadn’t gotten around to yet.
“Private detective,” corrected Kyle.
“Ink’s so new it might smear,” I told Nadia’s raised eyebrows.
“Niece, quit flirting with the men and tell me what you see,” said Elizaveta sharply, without looking up.
Nadia blushed—not because she’d been flirting, but because her great-aunt had embarrassed her—and turned her attention to the body on the table. After a steadying breath, she was all business.
“I know her face,” she said in some surprise. “This woman has been in the papers. She disappeared when out for a jog last Saturday morning. I don’t remember her name—”
“Toni McFetters,” said Kyle. “You’re right. I didn’t recognize her before.”
“Not unexpected under the circumstances.” Nadia was clearly paying more attention to the dead body than she was to any of us; her voice was clinical. “Easiest way to get a corpse to raise is to kill her yourself.”
“Are you saying that she was killed just for this?” Kyle looked cool and composed, but I could smell his agitation.
“Probably,” said Nadia when her great-aunt didn’t say anything. “This kind of magic works best on a fresh corpse. Hopeless to try it with one a mortuary has filled with embalming fluid, and stealing a body from a hospital morgue is tough. Too many people at a hospital.” She glanced over her shoulder, saw Kyle, and clearly, from the consternation on her face, ran the past few minutes of conversation through her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m not used to discussing my work with a layman. I do know this is difficult for you. Whoever did this was willing to kill you—I’d imagine that murder doesn’t bother them much.”
“If it had killed Kyle,” I asked, “would it have died?”
“Deanimated,” said Elizaveta briskly. “It was already dead when it came here. It would be possible to give such a one a directive, and then dissipate the magic after that directive was accomplished.”
“So someone would have come in here and found Kyle dead—killed by this woman who would be dead, too,” I said. “Elizaveta, ma’am—” I tried to work a way around the question I wanted to ask without offending her. “Is there anyone in the Tri-Cities who knows how to animate a dead body like this?”
Elizaveta gave me a smile with teeth, so I guess she was offended. “Yes, my little bunny, I could have done it. But I am obligated to the Alpha of your pack and I am aware of your ties to the lawyer. I would not accept a commission to kill him.” She examined my face and saw that wasn’t enough for me. “No,” she said clearly. “I did not kill this woman, nor did I turn her into a zombie and send her after your lover.”
“My apologies,” I told her. “But I had to ask.”
“The magic keeps them warm,” murmured Nadia into the tense atmosphere. I couldn’t tell if she was blind to the tension between me and Elizaveta, or if she spoke to dispel it. “Almost at normal body temperature. Forensics wouldn’t give an accurate time of death. It would look as though she’d died at the same time he had. A murder-suicide, perhaps. Impossible to tell without further work—but I think she was killed with an overdose of something that overworked her heart. Cocaine, perhaps. Something of that sort.”
I don’t know about Elizaveta, but I was distracted from her by what Nadia said. There wouldn’t be a zombie to horrify the mundane public, just a mystery of why they’d killed each other. The use of the zombie as a murder weapon suddenly made more sense. No one would know about the magic—and no forensics to tie the real killer to the crime.
Nadia continued with her analysis. “In view of the fact that she was abducted while out jogging, her clothing is of some interest—no one jogs in a dress like this. The pearls are fake—good fakes, but nothing any insurance company or jewelry store would have a record of. The lipstick is of a common shade. The dress is more interesting. It isn’t new. Maybe it came from a thrift store—we should be able to check it out.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” asked Kyle.
We all looked at him.
“We have a dead body of a missing person on my conference table. Someone is going to notice,” he said.
“She has disappeared,” said Elizaveta, speaking to him for the first time. “There is no gain in making her reappear.”
Kyle’s face hardened. “She has a family. Two kids and a husband. They deserve to know what happened to her.”
“Can you fix her up?” I asked Elizaveta. “Repair the damages I did and then leave her somewhere she’ll be found?”
“It is safer and easier to dispose of the
