“Got in himmel.”
Startled, Dag reached down and twitched the edge of the man’s clothing to cover the worst of the abdominal wound. His gaze shot up to find the disobedient female had not only not remained outside while he checked the apartment, she had walked right up beside him and stood gazing down at the dead body with an expression of mixed horror and compassion. Her brown eyes had softened, and she held a hand over her mouth that she only removed to speak.
“Is that him? Is that Dennis Ott?”
Deciding it would be worthless to chastise her right then, especially since his senses told him the danger had passed and they alone occupied the apartment, Dag shrugged. “I do not know, but who else would it be?”
Kylie finally lowered her hand and wrapped her arms around her torso as if giving herself comfort. “I don’t know, either. A roommate? A friend? Lover? His feet are bare, though—just socks—so chances are he lived here. No reason otherwise for him not to be wearing shoes this time of year. It’s not like anyone in here has been trying to protect the carpet. At least, not in the last decade.”
Dag nodded. “You are correct. I noticed the lack, but did not consider the significance.”
“Does he have any identification?” When he looked at her curiously, her shoulders twitched. “Some guys carry their wallets around all day. Maybe he’s got a driver’s license in his pocket.”
From the way she jerked her pointed little chin toward the body, he gathered she had no intention of checking for herself. He didn’t blame her. While he had seen death on countless occasions, he doubted this human had. She appeared too young and innocent to have encountered the sort of violence to which he himself had become inured. Mortals felt a natural reluctance to stray too close to the blatant work of death.
He crouched beside the body, careful to avoid the blood, and used his long reach to pat the pockets in the victim’s black denim jeans. In the first two he found nothing, but when he crossed to the man’s left side, he felt objects in both front and rear pockets. From the back he withdrew a leather wallet, also black, the leather already soaked and stiffened by blood. He held it up for Kylie to take while he investigated the front pocket.
She took the item gingerly, two fingers very carefully plucking it from his hand by the driest corner she could find. Stepping around the blood pool, she set it on the edge of a small table and flipped it open. “It’s him. Here’s his license. It’s got a picture.”
Dag grunted and withdrew a key ring and a folded piece of paper from inside the worn jeans. The objects had been spared the worst of the blood spatter, the note hardly smudged. Uninterested in the keys, he tossed them onto the table near Kylie and unfolded the crisp paper.
Sally’s
Alley 423
10:30 P.M.
Wile E. Koyote
He read the short note aloud and looked toward Kylie. She remained beside the small table, fiddling with the dead man’s key chain and frowning.
“That’s from last night,” she said. “I’m Wile E. It’s one of my online IDs, and that’s the place and time we were supposed to meet. I guess now I know why he didn’t show. And here I was mad at him for standing me up.” The corners of her mouth pulled down, and her dark eyes took on a haze of guilt.
“He was already dead,” Dag confirmed. He found himself trying to gentle his normally gruff voice. The female appeared distressed enough without thinking him annoyed with her. More annoyed than usual, that is. “We will have to find a new lead to pursue.”
Kylie nodded, not looking at him. Her gaze had dropped to the tangle of keys and baubles in her hand. Instead of setting it aside and joining him in leaving, however, she blinked and peered closer at a thin rectangle of black plastic. Her fingers fiddled for a moment, and a small but powerful light shone briefly from the narrow end.
She made an excited sound. She enjoyed artificial light that thoroughly?
“I have one of these,” she said, and attacked the complicated mass of metal and plastic until she had separated the miniature black flashlight from the rest. “I picked it up at a trade show somewhere. Some company had them for a giveaway. It’s a mini LED flashlight on this end—” She pressed a small button on the side and the light shone briefly once again. “But on the other end, it’s got a portable USB drive with a surprising amount of storage space.”
Dag shook his head. “I think this is where I ask you more questions.”