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“I’ve seen the crime scene photos,” I said, “and the murder was bloody and awful, but it didn’t take superstrength to do it.”
“I admit that when I first saw Ray lying there, all I saw was the blood and the damage to the body. It wasn’t until we started taking pictures to help us get the warrant that I realized the blood wasn’t hiding more damage. Usually there’re pieces torn off, eaten. The victim is savaged, so when they start picking it up to wrap it up for transport, I expect bits to fall off the body.”
“Yeah, sometimes the damage isn’t obvious until you start trying to move it,” I said.
“The body was too intact, Blake. It was too . . . whole. I told that to Duke, and he told me I was crazy. Wasn’t Ray’s throat being torn open enough damage?”
“No,” I said, “it’s not. I’ve never seen a wereanimal kill that was that clean. Vampire yes, but not a shapeshifter.”
“Exactly,” Newman said.
“The sheriff says he’s seen what a wereanimal can do. Has he?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but why would he lie about it?”
I shrugged. “Some people do.”
“Duke can brag with the best of them, but he always lets you know when he’s pulling your leg. He’s never claimed expertise he didn’t have to my knowledge.”
“Maybe
whatever he saw wasn’t someone he knew. That can make a difference,” I said.
I opened the top left-hand drawer and found the usual office bits and bobs. The drawer below it was deeper and had hanging file folders in it. I’ve worked so few cases where this kind of evidence mattered that I wasn’t entirely sure if I messed with the files whether it would hurt the case later. A warrant of execution covered almost any kind of violence and death, but I wasn’t sure about regular evidence.
“If the evidence didn’t look like a shapeshifter attack, you’d have gone after the money angle?” I said.
“You mean, who inherits?” Newman said.
“Yeah.”
“Like Muriel and Todd?” he said.
“Oh, yeah. I’m wondering if messing with the files in the victim’s desk will mess us up if it turns into a financial case.”
“Warrants of execution let us kill almost anyone or anything that’s associated with the crime, but the legalese doesn’t mention papers and files,” Newman said.
“We can look at anything in plain sight, or if we have reasonable suspicion of something specific, but we’re just fishing here. If we find something, it could get thrown out on the grounds of the warrant not covering what we discover,” I said.
“So, we leave the drawers alone,” he said.
“We can peek inside them, but I’d rather not move shit around without a different kind of warrant.”
“You’re the senior marshal on this one.”
“I’ve got seniority, but it’s your warrant, so technically you’re the lead on this one,” I said.
“It seems like every time we work together, the warrant starts out as mine,” he said.
“No shame in signing it over to someone with skills you don’t have,” I said.
“Have you ever signed a warrant over to another marshal?”
“No, but remember, I’m one of the old-timers in this business. You young whippersnappers have things to learn. I’ve learned them already.”
“You’re only two years older than me, Blake. You don’t get to call yourself an old-timer or me a whippersnapper. Who uses that word anymore?”
“Apparently I do,” I said, but I was smiling as I opened the right-hand drawers to look but not touch.
