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He elbowed me in the ribs and gave the woman his politest smile. “Nat, can I please have your cuff keys and my wife’s weapon?”
“She shouldn’t have taken it in the first place,” I growled.
“Behave,” Jackson warned, undoing my cuffs. He was careful not to touch my skin.
“Detective…” Natalie cleared her throat, resting her hands on her gun belt. “She was found standing over a dead body. We need to take her in and get her statement at the very least.”
“I’ve already got her statement,” Jackson said. “If she turns out to be the killer, I’ll arrest her myself. For now, though, she knew the victim, so she’s consulting on the case.”
A dog with a bone, Natalie shook her head. “I still have to put her in my report.”
“Go ahead,” Jackson said, smiling. We both knew that her report would disappear the moment she filed it, just like all the rest.
“Where’s my baton?” I asked, rubbing my shoulder. No one should have to sit with their arms pinned behind their back for an hour and a half. Especially when they’ve broken their collarbone in the past.
Natalie held the stick out to Jackson, but I snatched it away from her and shoved it back into my boot. She walked away, and Jackson narrowed his eyes at me.“Do you have to antagonizeeveryoneyou meet?”
“It’s part of my charm.” I shrugged, rubbing my shoulder again. The muscles along my neck would be burning for the rest of the night, thanks to Natalie and her handcuffs.
“You okay?” Jackson asked.
“I’m fine. Tweaked my shoulder, that’s all.”
“I’ve got Advil in my car if you need it.”
I met his eye for a second and then turned away. “I’m fine. Let’s look at the body.”
He sighed and led me through the crowd. Jackson waved off the man taking pictures and yawned. “So, how far did you get before Butch and Sundance showed up?”
“Ouch, calling Nat butch? That’s harsh. Kevlar vests are unflattering on everyone,” I said, letting my eyes take in the scene under the floodlights.
“Very funny. What were you doing here so late? Why’d Nadia hire you?”
“Why does anyone hire me?” I said. “She was afraid.”
There were too many humans close by for me to tell him the whole truth. If any of them heard my story and somehow managed to suspend their disbelief in magic, I’d become their number one suspect. I was seemingly the last one to talk to Nadia, and we’d had an argument two days before her death. Until the scene was processed, all signs pointed directly at me.
A familiar voice called out from the crowd of people to my right. “Rebekah?”
I turned and found a familiar head of neon pink hair in a medical examiner’s coat. My cousin Shado was crouched in front of a field kit sitting on the steps of the Devereaux mausoleum. Her hair was swept into such a tight bun, I almost didn’t recognize her.
I smiled. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She hopped to her feet and pulled me into a bone crushing hug. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Have a little faith, Cousin. I’m on a case.”
She snorted. “Of course, you are.”
“I am, so…” I gestured vaguely at the body in front of us. “What can you tell me? What’s your preliminary exam?”
All lit up, Nadia looked like a ghoulish Halloween decoration. I’d missed a lot in the dark. Every inch of her skin was covered with words, alchemical symbols, numbers, and runes that disappeared under her sleeves and showed up again at the collar of her sweater. Even her cheeks had marks on them.
Shado sighed. “From what I can see it looks like a ritual kill. The cause of death at first glance is a stab wound to her carotid artery, but these markings look at least a month old and there’s too much blood on the slab to have been from one wound. I mean, I don’t want to do your job for you, but I don’t think she was killed here. I’m guessing they stabbed her somewhere else, and then threw all the blood around to stage her like this.”
“Do you recognize any of the markings?” Jackson asked, tapping his boot against mine. He kept his voice low so only the three of us would be able to hear.
“Some of them,” I said, pointing as I spoke. “That’s the alchemical symbol for silver. Those are runes for strength and protection. Those are pain and death. That’s Latin for blood. It’s definitely a ritual of some kind, but I can’t tell for what. I’d have to do some research. But Jack, these weren’t here two days ago.”
