Blood Doesn't Lie (Otherworld Crime Unit Book 1) Read online

  “I didn’t say that,” he protested.

  From beside him, Mahina smirked again. “I think you put your foot in it, Valorian.”

  Eve turned on her. “And you can put your foot in it too, Captain Garner.” She stripped off her gloves, shoved them in her pants pocket, picked up her kit and started back to the vehicle. “I’m going to go put overalls on, then I’m going in the dumpster to find the damn head.”

  She pushed past them both with an indignant sniff of her nose and lift of her chin.

  Caine turned and watched her march down the alley.

  “She’s got spunk. For a human,” Mahina commented.

  Caine nodded, trying to hide his amused smile. “I’ve been noticing.”

  The horrid smell of putrid rotting food and unmentionable garbage nearly did Eve in as she tossed another black plastic bag out of the trash bin to Caine.

  For the past hour, she’d been methodically chucking out complete bags of garbage for Caine to inspect, while she dug deeper into the bin looking for anything resembling a head. So far, she’d come across several fish heads, a decomposed cat, but no human head.

  Sweat dripped down her forehead and from under her ponytail, ran past the collar of her blue overalls and down her back. Careful not to rub her face with the soiled latex gloves she had on, Eve dabbed at her face with the sleeve of her uniform. She was definitely going to need a shower. Probably two of them.

  She was regretting opening her big mouth-once again—and landing in a situation she was not able to deal with. Digging around in rotting waste was not likely the best way to prove herself to Caine. He probably wouldn’t have thought any less of her, if she had refused to go in. However, she would have.

  “Any luck?” Caine popped his head up over the rim of the trash bin.

  Startled, Eve stumbled. Tripping on a broken wooden chair leg, she fell backward. She twisted in the air, putting her hands out to break her fall and ended up on her stomach, face to face with a waxy, pale visage. The crowning piece from their dead body.

  Sucking in air like a fish out of water, she scrambled to her knees to get away from the decomposing head of their murder victim.

  Stretching out with his hand, Caine tried to reach her. “Eve, are you all right?”

  Swallowing the rising bile in her throat, Eve nodded. “I believe I found what we were looking for.”

  “Can you grab it and hand it to me?”

  “Yeah, give me minute.” Licking her lips to stifle the gag reflex, Eve shuffled closer to the head on her knees. Carefully, she removed the trash surrounding it. Once the surroundings were pushed back from it, she took hold of a hunk of black hair and gently pulled it out of its snug resting place.

  Bits of paper, cloth, and other debris stuck to the gory neck wound. It almost looked like streamers hanging down from a hot air balloon. That was if the balloon had split lips, sharp fangs and a bullet hole in its forehead.

  Trying not to look right at it, Eve stood and handed it off to Caine. She set it in his hands then eagerly grabbed the edge of the green bin so she could get out. But she found that she was in too deep. She couldn’t lift herself out.

  Again, she hooked her hands over the rim and tried to push her body, scrambling against the metal side of the bin. She was too tired, or too weak to be successful. Defeated, she dropped back down and let out an angry huff.

  “Need some help?” She heard Caine’s soft chuckle as his head appeared above the rim again, and he offered her his hands. “I’ll pull you out.”

  With an angry glare, she took his hands and allowed him to pull her up so she could swing her leg over the edge. Once she had her right leg over, she yanked her hands from under his and dropped to the ground. Unfortunately, the motion made her slip forward and she banged her knee on the metal bin when she landed.

  Caine was there again, reaching out to her, touching her shoulder. Not that she didn’t want him to touch her. She did, desperately. But she didn’t want him to think she needed him to. She wanted him to believe that she was a strong independent woman. Not some whiny, hopeless person who had to have a man tend to all her problems.

  She knocked his hand away. “I’m fine.”

  “It’s all right to ask for help, Eve.”

  Stripping her gloves off, she pushed back the hair sticking to her sweaty face. “I’m not an invalid you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m so fragile,” she huffed. “I’m a strong person. I can do this job. Even in this city.”

  “Okay,” he said staring at her.

  “Would you have stopped Lyra from jumping in that dumpster?”

  “No.”

  “Then why me?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but obviously thought better of it and closed it. Licking his lips, he sighed. “It won’t happen again. You’re right. You’ve proven yourself. You don’t need me to protect you.” Reaching down, he picked up the head encased in plastic and tucked it under his arm. “From now on, I’ll treat you like the rest of the team. No special treatment.”

  Nodding, she wiped her face again. “Good.”

  Caine started back down the alley to the vehicle. “Could you grab my kit? My hands are full,” he tossed over his shoulder while he kept walking.

  Eve glanced down at the two metal suitcases on the ground. Sometimes, she had trouble carrying her own. Sighing, she gripped each handle and hefted the kits. They were heavy, and she found her shoulders pulled as she walked.

  Well, she did say she didn’t want to be coddled. Maybe she should’ve waited until after they were back at the lab before she made that statement.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Well, he was definitely shot and his head was cut off post-mortem.”

  Caine resisted the urge to berate Givon, especially when Eve was standing right next to him, looking eagerly up at the M.E. “I figured that out Sil. Now give me something that’s going to help.”

  “He was shot at close range.” He pointed to the stippling, which resembled a bunch of small reddish-black spots on the victim’s forehead. “Between six inches and two feet. So maybe your vic knew the shooter.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed a small gray plastic tray. He handed it to Caine. “Here’s your bullet. Pulled it out of his frontal lobe. Small caliber bullet with a low velocity.”

  Caine picked up the fragmented bullet and tossed it into an evidence bag. He’d take it to Kellen to see if it matched anything they had on file.

  “The wound tracks on his neck indicate a large blade at least seven inches, with a serrated edge. Whoever did it was very strong and likely sliced through his neck in a matter of seconds. There were no hesitation marks or chopping wounds.” He made his hand into a flat edge and brought it down toward the victim’s neck. “He set it against the neck, and pushed down in one or two fluid motions.”

  “Same knife as with Lillian Crawford?”

  Givon nodded. “Could be. Can’t say for sure, but definitely similar. I’ll make a mold of the wound to compare.”

  “What about the bite marks?”

  Givon pointed to the torn flesh on the body’s side and thighs. “Post-mortem. I’d say the lycan came across a hearty meal and couldn’t resist. Took chunks out of the meatiest parts.”

  Caine nodded in agreement. That’s exactly what he had thought. The bum had likely been looking for food scraps when he went dumpster diving. Surprised by a fresh dead body in his trash bin, it was likely too enticing, especially for a lycan who had been starving.

  He’d let Mahina know their findings, and get her to release the bum in the morning. He’d make sure that in lock-up the man received a meal at least.

  “Anything else?”

  “He was a young vampire. I’d say he was no older than one hundred. In relatively good shape, except for the small holes in his arm.” He lifted up the body’s left arm and pointed to a clump of pinpricks on the inside of his elbow, a perfect spot for injecting substances into the veins.

  “A drug abuser?” Caine asked.
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  “Possibly. I sent a sample of his blood to tox.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Sil.” Caine patted his friend on the shoulder before he walked out of the autopsy room.

  “Oh yeah, I got the word on that bone you found.”

  Caine stopped and turned around.

  Givon handed him the bone in a clear plastic evidence bag. “It’s Sus Domesticus.”

  Taking the bag, Caine stared down into the bag. “It’s a pig bone?”

  Givon nodded.

  “Okay. Thanks.” Perplexed, Caine continued out of the autopsy room. Eve followed him close behind, her eyes dancing with eagerness above the green surgical mask.

  Once they were outside the swinging metal doors, Eve whipped off her mask and her green cloth wrap-around gown. “Do you think this new vic is one of our guys?”

  After removing his own mask and gown, he frowned. “Maybe. We’ll hit up Gwen to see if she’s made a match yet.” He marched down the long hall toward the elevator to the second floor. “I don’t want to make assumptions. They can only get us into trouble.”

  “I know, but I can feel it in my bones.”

  He nodded. “If it is one of our guys, then the other is tying up some loose ends.”

  The elevator doors opened, and they went in. Eve pushed the button to the lab. And as the doors shut, Caine could sense her excitement at nearing a solution to the crime. He too felt elation at having a lead. He just hoped it led them in a straight line and not around in circles.

  The minute the doors slid open and they stepped out onto the floor, Lyra zipped down the corridor toward them, a piece of paper in her hand, and a sparkle in her eyes.

  “We got a hit on AFIS.” She handed the sheet of paper to Caine while she rattled off the information on it. “Jamie Duncan, arrested for drunk and disorderly. Guess where?”

  “The Howler?” Eve guessed.

  Lyra smiled at her. “Good guess.”

  “Do we have an address?” Caine asked, as they continued to walk down the hall toward the lab.

  “Apartment six, 1016 Twelfth Street.”

  Stopping right at the door to Gwen’s lab, Caine gave the sheet back to Lyra. “Good work. Where’s Jace?”

  “He’s out tracking down possible van matches with Detective Sanchez.”

  “Okay, call Jace and get him to meet us at that address.” Caine handed her the other evidence bag with the pig bone in it. “Log this, too. It’s a pig bone found under the bed at the last crime scene.”

  Lyra nodded, and raced off down the hallway the opposite way from where they had come.

  Caine and Eve stepped into the lab. Gwen looked up from her microscope and motioned toward the printer. “Your results.”

  Moving to the printer, he slid the paper from the tray and glanced down at it. Eve was right beside him, eyes alit, peering over his arm at the paper. “He’s a match to one of our perps.”

  “Yup.”

  “Thanks for the quick work, Gwen.”

  She waved at him while still looking into her microscope. He knew that was her signal for ‘you’re welcome, now get the hell out of my lab as I’m really busy’.

  As Caine exited the lab, Eve met him stride for stride. He glanced over at her as they marched down the hall toward the firearms department. She looked like a kid right before a big game, the most important game of the season.

  She met his gaze. “We’re close, so damn close. Can you feel it?”

  He nodded. “We’ll get Kellen to run the bullet, maybe we’ll get a hit, and then we’ll head over to our new vic’s apartment. Hopefully, we’ll find something there to lead us to his killer and our second perp.”

  “I love this part of the job.” She laughed. “Right before you put all the pieces together and solve the puzzle. It’s a rush, isn’t it?”

  He grinned at her enthusiasm. He really liked that about her. Her passion for the job. Passion. Something they deeply shared.

  Could they share it on another level?

  Before he could respond with something he probably shouldn’t say, his cellphone shrilled from his pocket. Digging it out, he flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Valorian.” After a few moments, he flipped the phone closed and slid it back into his pocket.

  “Is there a problem?” Eve asked, worry furrowing her brow.

  “Politics.” He sighed. “I have to meet the Baron in my office.”

  “I can take the bullet to run ballistics.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’m part of the team right? I can do this on my own. You can trust me.” She put out her hand for the evidence bag.

  He set the small paper envelope into her palm, closing his hand around hers. “I do trust you, Eve. It’s Kellen I don’t trust.”

  She laughed but didn’t pull away from his touch. “He doesn’t scare me.”

  “Well, he scares me,” he stated with a chuckle.

  “At first he was a little hard to take, but now that I’m used to y’all, it’s a walk in the park.”

  After a final squeeze of her hand, Caine pulled his away. The sudden loss of warmth that had been spreading up his arm surprised him. He hadn’t been totally aware of the sensation until it was taken away. Was her touch really so potent? He wondered what would happen if they increased that connection, touching other, more intimate places.

  Again, thoughts of her naked body writhing underneath him flashed in his mind.

  Aware that she was staring at him, a little flush in her cheeks, Caine cleared his throat and smoothed a hand down his tie. Did she feel the sensations too? How could she not when they seemed to crackle all around them like lightning.

  “Okay, I’ll meet up with you later.”

  She nodded and turned to continue down the hall toward the firearms room. He watched her walk, enjoying the way her trousers fit over her shapely rear end. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep his desires in check. He found the more he was around her, the more he wanted to be with her. Professional distance was becoming a thing of the past.

  He knew she was attracted to him. He could smell it on her, taste it in the air whenever they were together, and feel it sizzle on his skin. And it was more than just a physical connection. She was definitely beautiful, with a body that made a man wonder what she would look like spread out on his bed, with only the moonlight casting beams on her flesh, waiting for him to enter.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose where a headache brewed, Caine turned and made his way to his office where the baron was likely waiting. His thoughts were for nothing. There was no way they could consummate their feelings for each other. It was unethical and dangerous.

  A vampire’s lust was overpowering. Eve would not be able to handle his desires. It would overwhelm her and consume her until she could think of nothing else but him. Even after, she would desire him like no other. She would be branded with their lovemaking, his scent so ingrained into her skin that the craving could drive her mad.

  He wouldn’t let what happened to Amanda, his late wife, happen to Eve. Morally, he couldn’t venture down that path once more.

  When he fell in love and married Amanda, he had made a fatal error. He had tried to turn her. She hadn’t been strong enough to survive the transformation. Her heart had stopped beating and he didn’t have the power to get it going again. He had killed her with his selfish desire to possess her for an eternity.

  He vowed to never make that mistake again.

  “I knew you were coming,” Kellen announced the moment Eve stepped through the door.

  Taken back, she halted at the door and almost considered turning around and leaving. “Ah, do you have psychic ability or something else I should know about?”

  Grinning like a lunatic, he shook his head. “Nah, I could smell your perfume floating down the hall.”

  She should’ve felt some sense of relief from his statement, but it just made her more nervous. He made her nervous. For the past few days, he’d been around every corner watching her,
eyeing her as if she was his next snack.

  He neared her and lifted his nose in the air taking in a deep whiff. “You smell intoxicating.”

  “Ah...”

  “But you know that already, don’t you? I’m sure the Chief must tell you that all the time.”

  Taking a step back, she thrust out her hand, showing him the little evidence envelope. “Can you check out this bullet, please?”

  “Sure.” He took the envelope from her and rounded the large rectangular counter to stand near his microscope and computer. As he dumped the bullet onto the table, he glanced up at her and winked. “Good job on changing the subject.”

  Refusing to acknowledge his remark, Eve came around the counter to stand beside him. Not right beside him, but near enough that she could watch what he was doing. “Is it a twenty-two?”

  Kellen picked up the bullet with tweezers and set it in a small vise under his microscope. After setting the tweezers down, he peered into the lens, adjusting the magnification.

  “It’s a thirty-eight, darling.” He glanced sideways at her. “Do you want to look?”

  She nodded, and then looked through the microscope after he took a few steps back.

  “See those striations, there? Those are unique to the gun this came from, a Smith and Wesson .38 Special or possibly a .357 Magnum. Find me the weapon and I’ll get you a match.”

  When she raised her head from the lens, Eve was very aware of Kellen’s presence. He all but hovered over her. She could feel the heat from his buff body.

  “My God, I can see why he wants you.”

  She whirled around and glared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Caine.” Smiling, Kellen boxed her in against the counter, putting an arm on either side of her. “I can completely understand why he wants to possess you.” He leaned toward her and sucked in a deep breath through open lips. His eyes nearly rolled back in their sockets. “You are an exquisite piece of ass.”

  “I suggest you back away from me.” She tried to control the quaver in her voice, but she heard it, as she was sure did he.

  His eyes seemed to glow from the inside as he spoke. “I’m surprised he hasn’t taken you yet, but it’s just a matter of time. I can sense his intent from all the way down the hall. He hasn’t been frequenting The Club to slake his desires, so he must be suffering something fierce.”