Read [Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws for Free Online Page B

always," a voice said from the doorway.
    Martha Apostolos entered the room wearing a flowing long-sleeved blue dress and heels. Her dark mane of hair was pulled away from her face, revealing her soft, Greek features. She gave a smile that reached her red-brown eyes when she said, "Kassandra, it's been a long time."
    Arthur and I both stepped away from the body, getting out of her way. I returned the friendly smile. "I take it your night has been interrupted too?" I asked.
    "It has," she said. "I was out with a friend." She fixed Arthur with an accusatory stare, as if it was all his fault.
    Arthur handed her a pair of gloves and said, "Sorry to interrupt."
    "Oh, no, you're not." She laughed. "As I was saying when I walked in, you won't always find signs of restraint and force left behind. I would say that it doesn't appear your victim struggled, but I'll know more once I've had the opportunity to examine the body more thoroughly."
    "All right," Arthur said. "Thanks, Martha. We'll get out of your hair."
    Martha offered a sharp nod, but she was already eyeing the body and intently setting to work. We left her to it.

    *

    Lenorre knelt beside the bed in the guestroom, which was decorated in a lot of blue and a lot of gray. I could smell the unmistakable scent of cat urine and kitty litter in this room. If I looked closely enough, I could see black cat hairs on the bed.
    "We suspect our victim in the other room is Leana Davey," Arthur said. "She lives here alone."
    Lenorre said, "Not exactly, Detective," as a black cat slipped out from under the bed. The cat looked at me, ears twitching, pupils dilating. Lenorre stroked a hand down the back of its head. The cat looked startled for a second before rubbing against her leg. Apparently, cats like vampires. Who would've thought? I would've petted the cat, but I didn't for two reasons. One, it wasn't my cat. Two, the look it had given me told me I'd be sticking my hand in a kitty blender.
    "Familiar?" Arthur asked.
    I shrugged. "Could be? Who knows. Tell me what else you know," I said. "Does this scene match the other in that there are no signs of forced entry?"
    Lenorre continued to pet the cat, which was greedily gobbling up her affection.
    Arthur looked at me as he leaned against the wall closest to the door. "Same," he said. "Do you think it's human or preternatural?"
    "Honestly," I said, "I don't know. At this point, the only connection I can make between this crime and the last one is the victims' spiritual preferences and that damned symbol."
    "It could easily be either," Lenorre offered.
    "Do you have any idea what the symbol means?" I asked her.
    She shook her head. "If I had, Kassandra, I would have spoken so. I am sorry. I do not."
    Berkeley Ackerman chose that moment to walk into the room. She held a phone out to Arthur. "Holbrook wants to talk to you," she said.
    "Shit," Arthur said, taking the phone and walking out of the room with it.
    I heard him say, "Kingfisher, here," and a few, "Uh-huhs," as he made his way down the short hallway and out into the living room.
    I felt Ackerman staring at me.
    "So, it's true," she said, crossing her arms over her dark blue uniform.
    I knelt, peeking under the bed. There might not be any clues there, but it didn't hurt to look. I stood carefully, trying not to scare the cat that was keeping a precarious distance and huddling against Lenorre.
    "What's true?"
    She nodded toward Lenorre. "That's your girlfriend?"
    "My personal life isn't your business, Ackerman."
    "I don't know why Holbrook keeps you on retainer," she said snidely. "It's not like you do much of anything aside from shooting people."
    One breath. Two breaths.
    "Ackerman," I said, trying not to sound as bitchy as I felt. "If that's what you want to think, then fine, think it. If it helps you sleep better at night, knock yourself out. I really don't give a shit what you think of me."
    "What I think of you?" Her brows raised a fraction. "It's fact, Ms. Lyall. You're nothing but