8. Lucy
CHAPTER 8
Lucy
It was annoying to have someone babysit me on a case, but I’ve never experienced it quite like this before. Frankie was always hovering around, but having Liam’s assistant constantly in my peripheral was starting to get to me.
His presence was surprisingly unobtrusive when he wanted it to be and that made me nervous. Someone that big and dangerous going unnoticed by everyone around us was unnerving when his presence felt like a heat lamp focused on me and me alone.
It was scorching.
This weird chameleon thing he was doing made his presence practically nonexistent. Nothing like the weight I’d felt right after running into him or during the meeting when he’d questioned my entire purpose.
What could I do for them? Maybe nothing.
Gideon Valor’s office was annoyingly clean other than the pool of blood on the floor where he’d bled out. No sign of a murder weapon, and the police hadn’t found one either.
The only bright side to this shitshow was Liam Valor had gotten us access to both the crime scene and the body the day after the murder. We had access before too much evidence could be swept away or confiscated by the police.
Frankie had worked her magic on the betas doing the forensics and promised them who knew what for access to the evidence before it was locked away until it would inevitably be used in court.
No scent of gunpowder or metal lingering in the air.
Most couldn’t smell something like that unless it had just happened, but my ability to sift through scents was my superpower. Liam had gotten us in here within twenty-four hours of the death so my nose had access to anything and everything before it could fade away.
Someone had even been smart enough to turn off the filters cleansing the air.
I stared down at that pool of blood for a long time, not moving a single muscle. Each breath was shallow – barely enough to make the hem of my coat sway.
Logically, I knew there was nothing hiding in that pool of blood, but this was always how my nightmares started. Then I’d blink and suddenly I was drowning in plasma and iron.
We’d gotten into the crime scene early enough that the pool of blood hadn’t even fully dried yet. There was a lot of it too. Maybe four to six pints if my guess was right. Depending on where he’d been stabbed, it could be more, but it was difficult to fully drain a body unless it was hanging upside down.
I looked up at the ceiling and didn’t see anything that might indicate he’d been tied up in one way or another. Making a mental note to ask for one of the other detectives in the agency to come get a closer look once this was open to the public again, I decided to have them pull the pheromone filter out as well and seal it so I could see what I could smell that someone might have tried to hide.
I forced myself to look back down at the pool of blood.
The edges were dark red, almost black. There were a few cracks but not many. The center was still red and gelatinous. Rim desiccation meant it had been at least four hours since he’d bled onto the floor, but it didn’t seem like it had been more than nine hours total since the center was still such a bright red.
I checked my watch and did the math.
The cops had been called before he’d been murdered if my assessment was right. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been stabbed earlier. It could have taken him a bit to bleed out depending on the depth of the wounds, which gave me a window that was too wide for comfort, but also added some interesting possibilities.
How long had he been lying here bleeding to death before anyone even knew what was going on?
I needed Gideon’s phone, but I might not be able to get access to it before the police. If Frankie could make it happen, she would.
Refocusing on the pool of blood, I decided that he’d started bleeding no more than ten to twelve hours ago. I’d say nine, but there was a lot of blood and it took a bit longer to dry when there was this much of it.
My mother had been found in a pool of blood just like this with her wrists slit.
I was the one who found her and there’d been no desiccation of the blood at all when I got there. Her body had been in the bathtub with red-stained water, but one arm hung over the edge and her blood had dripped down to cover the pristine white tile, creeping toward the door and my toes in that strange silence that had felt so loud.
Suicide, or so I’d thought at the time.
This death hadn’t been disguised as a suicide though, and considering his position as corporate royalty, it would have been believable if Gideon Valor had overdosed from drugs when the stress became too much.
I wanted to touch the tacky pool of blood and see if it felt just like it did in my dreams or if my subconscious was getting it wrong again. Would it feel sticky and cold, or would it feel warm and thick like syrup before it was exposed to the air for too long?
Why did I always have to get so weird around blood? I wish I could say it was just post-traumatic stress, but I had a sick fascination with it even before I’d found my mother like that.
I’d walked barefoot to the tub through the water stained a deep red and no matter how hard I tried to forget, nothing could erase the memory of how warm it had been.
At least I knew this would be cold and grimy, so it wasn’t as difficult to resist.
Every breath I took tasted like copper and I tried not to focus on it too much.
Maybe I should take Frankie up on her offer to see a psychiatrist or something. Except it didn’t affect my work so I wasn’t really that motivated to do anything about it right now.
Closing my eyes, I let the sounds of Frankie chatting and the loud click of camera shutters fade away until all I could hear was my own breathing and the slight pitter-patter of the rain against the glass.
Blood was always the strongest scent. It was cloying and the tang of it got stuck in the back of my throat. It didn’t smell particularly fresh either which left this awful smell of rust and rotten meat. On its own, blood didn’t really have a smell, but once it was exposed to air, bacteria, flesh…
It didn’t smell like Gideon had any blood diseases or infections, but the blood had definitely touched his skin and clothes, probably sweat too before the body had been taken away. There was another scent…one that was difficult to place under the alpha pheromones still in his blood.
Whatever object the killer had used was metal. Steel if my nose was right. A knife would be logical, but I wouldn’t be able to confirm that until I saw the body.
I wrinkled my nose as I focused on the lingering pheromones next.
They were ridiculously strong and intense, just like Liam’s, but these were flavored with the emotions of anger and fear…disbelief. They soured the vanilla and made the sandalwood taste burnt on the back of my tongue, mixing in with the coppery taste of blood.
There was a third note that was specific to Gideon – one that set him aside from Liam. It was softer than I’d expected for such a dominant alpha…pears? That was such an odd scent for one of the rare legacy alphas who had a strong enough aura to possess the red eyes.
It explained a lot about his personality though.
Gideon had never been very ambitious. He’d been happy to follow his pack alpha’s orders and do as he was told to ensure his pack’s safety and happiness. He’d also taken very good care of his omega as far as I knew.
Whether they wanted kids or not wasn’t public knowledge. I’d have to ask Liam about that before Frankie questioned her.
Despite everything I could smell, there was no trace of the killer’s scent. I’d have to get access to the pheromone filter before anyone else or I might not ever know what they smelled like.
All that I could scent was the smell of soap that was used for their clothes. It was generic – a detergent used to cleanse fabric of pheromones. It was a very popular laundry detergent, but this one had the slight smell of something else.
I’d have to go to the store later and smell each of them in the laundry detergent aisle to place which one the killer had used.
Opening my eyes, I found the room exactly the same except now Frankie was crouched down, inspecting the pool of blood. The blood splatter was surprisingly contained, which indicated it hadn’t been a very passionate murder.
Desiccated blood cracked, the darkness creeping inward until all that red was finally black.
Whoever had killed Gideon had done it with a cool head, their execution flawless. There wasn’t a single disturbance in the office either. Nothing had been knocked over or used for self-defense.
Nothing to indicate Gideon had struggled at all.
Either he knew the person who’d killed him, or the murderer was a trained professional who’d hidden their presence until the very last moment. Both options were possible considering how violent pack disputes could get. Whatever an assassin cost, most well-known packs could afford it and then some.
Whoever had killed Gideon had been a meticulous planner. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so annoyed at how many potential suspects a hired killer would give us.
As much as everyone wanted to claim this was a move to gain power, I didn’t agree. It was the easy answer and convincing if they’d hired an assassin like I suspected, but my gut was telling me this was an act of revenge.
Curiosity ate at my insides until it consumed me whole and all I could think about was why .
Why hadn’t they done it themselves? Why had Gideon been left here to bleed to death just like my mother?
Whoever had done this hadn’t tried to cover it up either. They’d wanted him to be found. That way it would hurt the ones who loved him most and make them afraid they might be next.
Perfectly orchestrated and viciously effective.
Whoever had planned this better still be alive because I needed to know why they considered killing such a high-profile individual worth the risk if I was ever going to sleep again.