“Where’s the lighter?” he asked.
“Good question.” Eliza continued her preliminary examination. “We’re ready to wrap her up.” She waved her assistants over with the body bag and the gurney.
“Then I’ll finish up here and head to the office.”
“Ever heard of sleep?” she asked.
“Dino sleeps enough for both of us. I can’t tell you what fun it is having a partner who’s six months away from retirement.” Aiden fished his keys out of his coat pocket, tossed them up, and caught them with a swipe of his hand. “I’m gonna catch this guy just so I can thank him personally for dumping this case in our jurisdiction. I had Eagles tickets this weekend.”
Eliza gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, these criminals really don’t give a damn about our social lives.” She walked past him and followed her team wheeling the gurney to the van. “Duty calls.” Turning back, she swept her gaze around the scene. “Looks like your first case back is going to be interesting.”
Aiden glanced around the dim, grim alley and watched the photographer continue to take pictures of the now body-less scene, the familiar snap and flash somber but soothing actions. He turned to the table and put the victim’s purse in a large paper evidence bag, then peeled off the latex gloves, and replaced them with a lined, leather pair, an early Christmas gift from his mom.
Something was very wrong with this crime scene. It hadn’t been a mugging; her phone and wallet were undisturbed in her bag, and she still wore her watch and jewelry. A crime of passion seemed unlikely, considering the circumstances. There was no overkill, no indication of sexual assault. If it was a hired hit, it was a sloppy one. Why would a killer move a body? Where exactly had she been stabbed?
He looked around again. Dawn was just lighting the sky as he examined the row of dumpsters, stray garbage, a makeshift shelter, and the graffitied walls and back doors to the pawn shops and check-cashing places. As crime scenes went, this one was utterly unremarkable.
He rubbed his sternum with his fist, attempting to soothe the persistent burn.
Probably just the shit coffee.