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Her fingers, the nails carefully painted with a floral manicure, flew over the keyboard. Then she looked up at me, her expression incredulous. “So you want us to take blood from thedog?”
“Yep.”
She eyed up Anubis, who wagged his tail and let his tongue drop out of his mouth—probably attempting to convince her that he was friendly and not about to take her hand off.
Johnson looked skeptical. I suppose I didn’t blame her.
“Are you doing it?” I asked her.
“Absolutely not. Mays is.” She picked up the desk phone and hit a couple numbers. “Should I send Hart and the dog back?” she asked it. “Okay.” She hung up, then pointed down a hallway. “You been in the path lab before?”
“Yep. Do I need gloves or anything?”
Johnson shook her head. “No. You’re good to go.”
“Thanks.”
She nodded, and I turned and headed down the hallway, Anubis hop-walking alongside.
Mays looked up and grinned when we came in through the door. I smiled back, not used to seeing his mouth—Mays, like most of the human CSI techs—usually had a mask on at scenes, even the ones that were outside. This was the first time I could recall seeing him without one. Of course neither I nor the dog could carry Arcanavirus, so he was safe with us.
His teeth were very white.
“Detective Hart, welcome to the lab!”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, there, buddy!” Mays got down on one knee, holding his hand out to the dog. “How’re you doing? Is Hart treating you right?”
Anubis chuffed.
“Anubis, eh?” Mays remarked, reading the name on his collar. “I guess you look a bit like a jackal.” Apparently, Mays knew his Egyptian gods.
I shrugged. “I’m sure he already has another name, but I have no idea how I’d find it.” That was true, as far as things went.
Mays’s blue eyes were sharp as he studied my expression, but I had no idea what merited the scrutiny. Maybe I had a booger or some shit on my nose. I arched an eyebrow at him.
He grinned again. “Never figured you for much of a dog person,” he said, standing up again.
“I never figured me for much of a dog person, either,” I replied. “But it seems the dog is an elf person.”
That made Mays laugh, showing his extremely white teeth again. “Fair enough,” he said. “Now explain to me what we need from his blood?”
“The vet—thanks for that recommendation, by the way.” He nodded, and I continued. “Called yesterday to say that they’d found what looked like beta blockers in his blood. The problem is, he shouldn’t have any in his system after this many days, so it must be some kind of new thing.”
“Could they tell you anything about it?” Mays asked, starting to prep the needle and collection tube.
“No, which is the other problem.”
Mays nodded. “So we’re trying to ID whatever it is some jackass put into our little buddy here and hoping that leads us back to them?”
“That’s the extremely fucking distant and unlikely hope,” I replied.
“Investigation not going well?” Mays was good at his job, something I was a bit resentful of at the moment since it had led him to the annoyingly correct conclusion.
“Doesn’t fucking look that way, does it?” I retorted, irritated by the sullen sound of my own voice.
By my feet, Anubis let out a little whine.
