Dragos Goes to Washington (A Story of the Elder Races)

He took note of faint whiffs of old scents, along with the scent of aged wood, and set them aside. The only new scents in the closet were Pia and, of course, Colton’s copious blood, along with a faint, underlying hint of chemical stink.

Colton was wearing KO Odorless Odor Eliminator again, as was his wife. Dragos had taken note of it as soon as the Coltons had stepped into his house. He had also noted every other smiling guest who wore it.

All of them were his enemies. They knew it.

He knew it.

And one of them had murdered a man in his house.

Still leaning into the closet, he reached for the pen in his breast pocket. With the tip, he probed at the wounds on Colton’s neck. There were five wounds, four on one side, and one on the other. As Jered so obnoxiously pointed out, on the surface at least, it did look like a Wyr kill.

Dragos was very familiar with the general pattern. The style of the wounds was reminiscent of a Wyr ripping out someone’s throat with his talons. He had done it himself a number of times over the centuries, but if there was one thing he would stake his life on in that moment, it was that no Wyr present would ever betray him in his own house. Everyone on this trip was handpicked, either by Bayne or by himself. Only the highest-qualified Wyr, and the most loyal, had been chosen.

So, not only did someone who was wearing KO Odorless Odor Eliminator kill Colton, but they had somehow made it look like a Wyr had committed the murder. They had planned this very carefully. Bayne had installed the tiny security cameras in every room, but not in the hallways, and certainly not in any of the closets. The killer had murdered Colton in one of the blind spots.

Eyes narrowed, he probed deeper at one of the wounds. The flesh at the two edges of the cut fell apart cleanly. The wounds were almost surgical in their neatness. The blades had been very sharp.

Even still, the blood would have spurted until Colton’s heart stopped. How had the murderer kept from getting blood on him—or her?

He looked more closely at the area around the body, at the closet floor and underneath the desk. There, he discovered a cheap pocket rain poncho stuffed behind the chair. He didn’t bother to pull it out. If he did, he knew he would find it splattered with blood.

A footstep sounded nearby in the hall.

Sir, Eva said in his head. I’m supposed to help you with whatever you need.

Eva was smart to telepathize before trying to approach behind his back. He pulled back from the corpse and straightened to turn to her.

Two things, he said. First, get security to search the house from top to bottom, and move fast. We’re looking for a weapon, some kind of glove with razor blades attached to the tips of the fingers and thumbs. When it’s found, let me know. I want photos taken. Nobody should move it or touch it with their bare hands.

Standing on the balls of her feet, Eva looked sober and sharp, and ready to run as soon as he finished giving orders.

Second thing, he told her. Get a list of people who disappeared from the security cameras nearest this location, from the time the guests arrived to—he checked his watch—about five minutes ago, when Pia walked down this hall. Tell them to move very fast. I want a list of possible suspects in the next fifteen minutes.

Yes, sir. She bolted.

In the distance, his sharp hearing picked up Pia’s voice outside, followed by what sounded like good-natured laughter. Almost at the same time, he noticed an acrid scent, like burning food, and he smiled to himself. She had dealt with the problem splendidly.

If he wasn’t missed beforehand, Colton would definitely be missed when dinner was announced. Dragos needed to come up with a plan of action, because every moment right now was critical.

Coming to a decision, he closed the door, straightened his cuffs and strode down the hall. Pia, please quietly ask the president to meet me in the library.

Okay. Her mental voice sounded tense. Our time just got shorter. Vice President Colton has started looking for her husband.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, he told her. By the way, what kind of fresh meat do we have in the kitchen?

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