I walked up into the other room. This was a library rather than a study, as Armel's had been, but it still had a safe. Mel was dusting it for prints.
My gaze fell on a chrome and glass side table and I noticed the dust gathered there. And it wasn't the powder Mel was using-this stuff was coarser, and reminded me of the dust I'd blown off Armel's wallet. I glanced back at Mel. "You taken a sample of this?"
She looked across to see what I was pointing at, then nodded. "Don't know what it is, though I don't think it's regular house dust."
"It looks similar to some dust I saw at Armel's."
"Then we'll add it to the priority list."
"Thanks."
I finally let my gaze move to the body. Garrison, or what remained of him, sat in a plush leather chair next to the side table, a book slumped across his chest and the remains of a glass underneath the fingers of his right hand. Wine stained the carpet, its color almost as rich as the bloody pool that had formed under what remained of his legs.
"Where's his head and the end of his legs?" I asked, suddenly realizing what was missing.
"Your guess is as good as mine at this point," she said, catlike green eyes bright in the semishadows. "But there's a couple of rather large Dobermans in the backyard, and the window behind you is open."
I looked at the window, then back at her. "You haven't checked whether the missing bits are out there?"
She smiled grimly. "We have two bird shifters and a cat shifter on this team. Sorry, tackling dogs is off all of our to-do lists. But you could always try."
I could, but if those dogs were out there were guarding the remains of their master, I wasn't going to interrupt them. The only reason a vamp would have a couple of Dobermans would be for protection, and I rather suspected these two would be trained to tackle most nonhumans. I also doubted that one lone werewolf would faze them, even if that werewolf had alpha tendencies and could back down most canines.
"Have you called in a dogcatcher?"
"Yep. But the vampire's bits would have turned to ash very soon after they hit the sunlight, and they could have been thrown in any direction from that window. It can wait."
I turned away from the window. "Any idea how these people are getting into the house?"
She shook her head. "Marshall can't find any obvious-or nonobvious-methods of entry. But they appear to be walking out the front door with their hauls."
That raised my eyebrows. "They would have to have been covered in blood, wouldn't they?"
"You'd think so. Cutting off someone's head and legs while he's alive would have created spurts of arterial spray, even in a vampire, but other than the pools of blood near the remains of his leg and neck, there's nothing."
"So they used a screen or something?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I doubt it. Arterial spray is something of a misnomer-it comes out with a lot of force when a main artery is cut. Even if they'd used a screen, there would have been residual drips."
"And they couldn't have used any sort of floor cover, because then we'd not have the blood pools."
"Exactly."
My gaze ran around the room, then came to rest again on the pools of blood underneath Garrison's body. They weren't nearly big enough for a body that had been bled out. "Maybe they were collecting the blood."
"Maybe. Hard to imagine anyone sitting still through that sort of thing, though, and they don't appear to have used restraints of any kind."
"Could it have been magic?" I asked, looking at Mel again. "Cole thought there might have been magical influences over at Armel's murder."
She frowned. "If it is, it's not one that I've smelled before. And it would have to be an extremely powerful magic to restrain someone when you're hacking him to pieces."
"Well, there's at least one thing that is obvious," I said grimly. "These people have a serious grievance against vampires."
And if they had, maybe Armel and Garrison weren't their first kills. Maybe they a history of it. It was certainly worth checking into.
"You'll get the report to me as soon as possible?"
She nodded. "Won't be tonight, though. The lab is severely backed up at the moment. Even the priority stuff is going to take longer than usual."
"As soon as you can, then. Thanks, Mel."
She nodded and got back to her fingerprinting. I dug my phone out of my pocket, ringing Jack as I headed back to the car.
"Anything?" he said.
"Just the same odd smell that I noticed at Armel's. Have the magi checked out Armel's yet?"
"They're there now."
"Which means we probably won't have an answer for a while yet." I gnawed at my lip as I opened the car. "Had another thought-"
"That's always dangerous."
Despite his dour tones, he was obviously getting back to some sort of normality if he could throw barbed remarks. Well, as normal as one could get after losing a longtime friend.
"It might be worth checking for similar murders in other states," I continued, "just to see if this is an established pattern. These murders are well practiced, Jack. We're dealing with professionals, not novices."
"Sal's already on that. There's nothing yet, but it's going to take awhile. You got anything else?"
I glanced at my watch. It was only four, and it wouldn't take me that long to get back to Fitzroy for my meeting with the street kids. But I was betting Joe would probably already be there, and if not, I'd wait. It was better than going back to the office and doing paperwork.
"I've got a meeting with a kid who knew the latest zombie victim at five."
"What about her parents?"
"She'd been living on the streets for years. I doubt the parents would be able to tell us anything useful about her." And I really didn't want to confront that sort of grief without the hope of getting something useful.
Jack grunted. "Once you finish there, concentrate on your report. I want it on my desk by the morning, Riley."
His tone added the "or else."
"You'll let me know if Cole's report comes in?"
"Yep."
"Thanks, boss."
I hung up and drove to Fitzroy. I got there with tons of time, and walked up to the Macca's on the corner to grab a burger and a shake, downing them both before heading back.
A shiny silver BMW had been parked in front of the building in my absence, and the car looked very conspicuous against the grime and age of the surrounding buildings. Obviously whoever owned the thing had no great love for it, because parking it in an area littered with street kids was nothing short of an invitation for robbery.
I lightly touched the hood as I walked by. Still warm, so it hadn't been parked here long. Inside, there was nothing more than a few folders to be seen. Maybe it belonged to the owner of these old buildings. Maybe the red tape surrounding the building plans had finally been removed, and the street kids were about to find themselves on the street again.
I walked through the old factory doors and drew in a breath as I headed for the stairs. Though I didn't expect it, there was one major difference in the aromas teasing the air.
The kids were no longer alone.
Kye was here.
Chapter Four
I walked up the stairs and through the wasteland of half-walls. The kids were holed up in the far corner again, and Kye was with them. Though his arms were crossed and his stance casual, there was an underlying tension in his shoulders that suggested he was ready to move at the slightest provocation.
"What the hell are you doing here, Kye? You were warned off the case."
"So you know this guy?" the kid with the bright blue eyes asked.
"He's not a guardian, if that's what you're asking."
"Never said I was." Kye's voice was deceptively mild. This man was a fight waiting to happen, and everyone in the room was aware of that fact.