Bloody Bones

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neutral and unreadable, good cop eyes. She frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You’re supposed to be the monster expert.”
    I let the “supposed to be” go. She hadn’t called me a zombie queen to my face; in fact she’d been very polite, correct, but there was no warmth to it. She wasn’t impressed, and in her quiet way, with a look or the slightest inflection, she let me know. I was going to have to pull a very big corpse out of my hat to impress Sergeant Freemont, DD/CC. So far I wasn’t even close.
    Larry walked up to us. His face was the color of yellow-green tissue paper. It clashed with his red hair. His eyes were red-rimmed where his eyes had teared while he threw up. If it’s violent enough, sometimes you cry while you vomit.
    I didn’t ask Larry if he was okay; the answer was too obvious. But he was on his feet, ambulatory. If he didn’t faint, he’d be fine.
    â€œWhat do you want from me, Sergeant?” I asked. I’d been more than patient. For me, I’d been downright conciliatory. Dolph would be proud. Bert would have been amazed.
    She crossed her arms over her stomach. “I let Sergeant Storr talk me into letting you see the crime scene. He said you were the best. According to the newspapers, you just do a little magic and figure it all out. Or maybe you can just raise the dead and ask them who killed them.”
    I took a deep breath and let it out. I didn’t use magic to solve crimes, as a general rule; I used knowledge, but saying so would be defending myself. I didn’t need to prove anything to Freemont. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Sergeant Freemont. As for raising the dead, it won’t work with these three.”
    â€œAre you telling me you can’t raise zombies, either?” She shook her head. “If you can’t help us then go home, Ms. Blake.”
    I glanced at Larry. He gave a small shrug. He still looked shaky. I don’t think he had the energy yet to tell me to behave myself. Or maybe he was as tired of Freemont as I was.
    â€œI could raise them as zombies, Sergeant, but you have to have a mouth and a working throat to talk with.”
    â€œThey could write it down,” Freemont said.
    It was a good suggestion. It made me think better of her. If she was a good cop, I could put up with a little hostility. As long as I never had to see another set of bodies like the ones below, I could put up with a lot of hostility.
    â€œMaybe, but the dead often lose higher brain function faster after a traumatic death. They might not be able to write, but even if they could, they might not know what killed them.”
    â€œBut they saw it,” Larry said. His voice sounded hoarse, and he coughed gently behind his hand to clear it.
    â€œNone of them tried to run away, Larry. Why?”
    â€œWhy are you asking him?” Freemont said.
    â€œHe’s in training,” I said.
    â€œTraining? You brought a trainee in on my murder case?”
    I stared up at her. “I don’t tell you how to do your job. Don’t tell me how to do mine.”
    â€œYou haven’t done a damn thing yet. Except for your assistant throwing up in the bushes.”
    An unhealthy flush crept up Larry’s neck. Embarrassed when he was almost too nauseated to stand.
    â€œLarry wasn’t the only one upchucking in the weeds, just the only one without a badge.” I shook my head. “We don’t need this shit.” I brushed past Freemont. “Come on, Larry.”
    Larry followed, obedient to the last.
    â€œI don’t want any of this leaked to the press, Ms. Blake. If the media gets hold of it, I’ll know where it came from.” She wasn’t yelling, but her voice carried.
    I turned. I wasn’t yelling either, but everyone could hear me. “You have an unknown preternatural creature that uses a sword, and is faster than a

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