Diana Rowland - Secrets of the Demon

Roger hadn’t moved the entire time I’d been on the phone. He wasn’t freaking out or falling apart, but he did appear stunned. It didn’t take much urging from me to get him to come downstairs. Fortunately, the body was deeply hidden in the bushes at the base of the building, so I wasn’t too worried that anyone would disturb it while I waited for the patrol unit to arrive and get the area properly cordoned off. Right now I was more interested in watching Roger’s reaction. I was convinced that Lida Moran had been attacked by the same sort of creature that had apparently tossed Vic out a window, and Roger Peeler was a big glowing link between the two incidents.

“I never thought Vic was the type to kill himself,” he said in a rough voice, eyes hollow. He leaned up against the wall, looking stricken.

I knew that wasn’t what had happened, but I figured I’d go along with that for a while to see what I could get out of Roger. “Well, you said yourself that he didn’t have much family. Maybe he got tired of being lonely?” I offered, keeping my tone gentle.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I ... I guess. But he had lots of friends. He was a super nice guy.” He looked up at me. “Look, I can’t see him committing suicide. His dad killed himself and Vic used to go on and on about how selfish and vicious suicide was to everyone left behind.”

Well, that wasn’t quite the response I’d have expected from someone who might have wanted to stage a murder as a suicide.

“All right,” I said. “Had he mentioned anything about arguments or bad business deals he’d made recently?”

Roger shook his head slowly. “No. He was such a nice guy. Everyone liked him. He got along with everybody.”

I nodded in response, but I remained skeptical. Nobody got along with everybody.

The marked unit pulled up then and I excused myself from Roger for a few minutes to get the scene secured. As soon as the tape was up and the crime scene log started I returned to Roger. He didn’t look as if he’d moved—he was still in a stunned daze.

“Roger, I’m going to need to talk to you more a bit later, but for now you’re free to leave. Are you all right to drive?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be okay.” He took a deep breath and straightened. “You’ll let me know what you find out?” The expression on his face was pleading.

“I promise,” I said, then watched as he returned to his car, those wide shoulders seemingly crushed under a great weight. If he’s responsible, then he’s also a fucking good actor, I thought. I wasn’t going to dismiss him entirely as a suspect, because I’d definitely been snowed before, but my gut instinct was leaning pretty far away from him at the moment. But if he’s not the link, then what is?

Or maybe he was still the link. If Roger had a habit of using the workout equipment here, maybe the golem had been after him, and Vic had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe someone had a beef with the band, not just Lida.

I put Roger out of my mind for the moment and returned my attention to the crime scene here. I’d yet to get a good look at the body and I hadn’t wanted to do so with Roger around.

The bushes ringing the building were high and deep, and it wasn’t easy getting to where I could even see the body up close. It would have probably been another week before the body had been found, and then only if someone decided to investigate the smell. I didn’t want to mangle the bushes too badly, but I managed to squeeze through enough so that I could get a peek. Not that the effort and scratches were worth it. He was quite clearly dead, and had been so for several days. He had on dark blue pants and a leather bomber-style jacket over a dress shirt that had once been white, though blood and dirt now marred it. I could see a few maggots around the eyes and nose. A couple more days and his face would have been barely visible beneath the carpet of maggots.

I extricated myself from the hedge in time to see my sergeant get out of his car and head my way.

“Got your warrant. Search away. You do know this was supposed to be a simple do-nothing case?” Crawford said with a sour look as I brushed leaves off my pants.

“It’s my own fault,” I said with a sigh.

He regarded me with narrowed eyes.

“I made the mistake this morning of saying that things were pretty slow right now.” I gave an apologetic shrug.

“God almighty, are you nuts?” He rolled his eyes. “So, do you figure he took a dive out the window?”

“He took a dive all right, but I think he was helped along.”

He looked at me sharply. “Not a suicide?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Together we headed upstairs to the office. I unlocked the door with Roger’s key, then walked to the window, carefully avoiding the thin smear of dirt on the floor.

“The windows prop open and have to be pulled shut,” I said. “But it was shut—even though it wasn’t latched. I doubt he climbed out, hovered for long enough to push it closed, and then plummeted down.”

Crawford frowned. “No way the wind could have pushed it closed?”

“I don’t think it’s likely.”

“Well then, we’ll treat it like a homicide unless some other evidence to the contrary comes along.”

I gave a slow nod as I stepped back out into the hallway. “It’s a funny coincidence too ...”

“What’s that?”

I looked up as Jill exited the elevator with her case in her hand and camera slung around her neck.

“Bitch, you suck,” she grumbled with a good-natured gleam in her eye. “Two scenes for the price of one?”

“I hate for you to get bored,” I replied. “And can you please collect a sample of the dirt at the base of the window?”

She nodded and proceeded on in, too used to me to question any of my strange requests. But Crawford gave me a funny look.

“What’s so special about the dirt?” he asked.

“I don’t know if there is,” I replied glibly. “But the rest of the floor seems pretty clean, so it might be from the attacker’s shoes. Can’t hurt to collect it.”

He seemed content with the answer, to my relief. “So, what’s a funny coincidence?” he asked, dragging me back to the subject from before Jill arrived.

“Oh, right. Well, the reporting person is Roger Peeler, who also happens to be the drummer in Lida Moran’s band.” Too bad I couldn’t tell him about the fact that I was fairly positive that Lida and Vic were attacked by the same sort of creature.

“What about the victim? Any connection there?”

“Not that I know of,” I replied. “But I haven’t had a chance to look it into yet.” I then explained how Roger was in the habit of using Vic’s private gym.

“Hunh. That’s interesting.” He pursed his lips, silent for several heartbeats. “It looks like you have a lot of digging ahead of you.”

“Yay. Woo,” I replied, deadpan.

“Don’t bitch about digging,” Jill said from across the room as she snapped pictures. “I’m the one who was asked to pick up dirt .”

Crawford glanced at me. “Is she always such a whiner?”

“Always,” I said with a deep sigh. “It’s embarrassing.”

“I heard that!” Jill mock-snarled.

He chuckled. “I think I need to leave before this gets bloody.”

“Smart man. I’m going to go through the office and see if anything leaps out as a motive,” I said.