Read Online Under Fire (Winged Enemy MC Romance) by Olivia Ruin - Free Book Online
Authors: Olivia Ruin
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report it and there’s nothing they can do to stop me.
I turned back to the crime scene and tried to approach it logically, analytically, and forget that I had joked around with Tim just that morning. It wasn’t the first time that I had traded barbs in the morning with someone who had ended up a cadaver by bedtime, but it never got easier.
Tim was sprawled face down on the rug. A large amount of blood stained it a shocking red that spread out in a pool from the body. It was more blood than I was used to seeing, but then most dead bodies I had seen were the result of gun fire.
“Was he stabbed?”
Nathan nodded. “It looked like he was hit right in the gut and chest five or six times. I rolled him over long enough to see that before I let him drop back down.”
I didn’t blame him. Tim and Nathan were great friends, and you never wanted to let your last memory of a good friend be their mangled corpse after a violent murder.
My training had never covered the intimate details of crime scene investigation. I settled for using my logic and intellect to try and figure out at least something about the murder that wasn’t immediately obvious. Something that would help us to figure out who was doing this.
Let’s see. Tim was stabbed in the front, and it looks as though he was sitting on the bed and slid off onto the ground after the attack. There was a blood smear that showed where he had slipped off the white leather couch.
If he had been stabbed in the front, there should have been some sign of a struggle. Why the front? And while he was sitting down… it’s almost as though Tim didn’t even try to protect himself. I hunted around, looking for clues. Beside the body was the low-slung coffee table which held a couple of magazines, the TV remote, and Tim’s beer.
He had settled in to watch the game, grabbed a beer. He might not have heard an intruder over the sounds of the TV, but that doesn’t explain why he didn’t get stabbed in the back, or at least stand up before he died.
Then I saw it, a detail that my eyes had skipped over several times as normal.
“Nathan, do you mind stepping outside so that I can talk to Jed alone, for a moment?”
He looked at me and cast a glance at the scene. He had stared at it far more than was healthy over the past hour, but he was obviously confused at what had given me a sudden burst of insight. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be out front with the others.”
Jed still stood with his back to me, looking into Tim’s kitchen. I waited for him to come over but he stayed there, obstinate.
“Please.” It was all I said, but we both knew that I was asking for a few things with the one word.
His back softened, and after a moment he turned around. Pain covered his face, distress at losing yet another member of his crew.
I held out my hand to him, and he took the few halting steps necessary to grab it.
“Don’t blame yourself, Jed. You warned everyone, Tim knew that there was danger. There wasn’t much else you could do.” I knew that I wouldn’t change his mind, but I said the words anyway. Maybe they would give him a measure of comfort.
“What did you find?” He didn’t bother to address my words of solace.
I walked with him over to the couch and pointed at Tim’s back. “Why was Tim stabbed in the front?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean why did the attacker stab Tim in the chest? If the murderer broke in and found Tim sitting here, wouldn’t he just hit him in the back? It would be quicker, easier, and less dangerous.”
Jed looked at Tim’s back. There were no wounds there, the black fabric of his shirt stretched across the chilled flesh in an unbroken expanse.
“Uh, I don’t really know…”
“Well I do. There’s something else that I noticed. It’s so ordinary that it took me a while to realize that it might be out of place, but look, right there.” I point at the small table that stood next to the other chair.
“What, the table?”
“No,
I turned back to the crime scene and tried to approach it logically, analytically, and forget that I had joked around with Tim just that morning. It wasn’t the first time that I had traded barbs in the morning with someone who had ended up a cadaver by bedtime, but it never got easier.
Tim was sprawled face down on the rug. A large amount of blood stained it a shocking red that spread out in a pool from the body. It was more blood than I was used to seeing, but then most dead bodies I had seen were the result of gun fire.
“Was he stabbed?”
Nathan nodded. “It looked like he was hit right in the gut and chest five or six times. I rolled him over long enough to see that before I let him drop back down.”
I didn’t blame him. Tim and Nathan were great friends, and you never wanted to let your last memory of a good friend be their mangled corpse after a violent murder.
My training had never covered the intimate details of crime scene investigation. I settled for using my logic and intellect to try and figure out at least something about the murder that wasn’t immediately obvious. Something that would help us to figure out who was doing this.
Let’s see. Tim was stabbed in the front, and it looks as though he was sitting on the bed and slid off onto the ground after the attack. There was a blood smear that showed where he had slipped off the white leather couch.
If he had been stabbed in the front, there should have been some sign of a struggle. Why the front? And while he was sitting down… it’s almost as though Tim didn’t even try to protect himself. I hunted around, looking for clues. Beside the body was the low-slung coffee table which held a couple of magazines, the TV remote, and Tim’s beer.
He had settled in to watch the game, grabbed a beer. He might not have heard an intruder over the sounds of the TV, but that doesn’t explain why he didn’t get stabbed in the back, or at least stand up before he died.
Then I saw it, a detail that my eyes had skipped over several times as normal.
“Nathan, do you mind stepping outside so that I can talk to Jed alone, for a moment?”
He looked at me and cast a glance at the scene. He had stared at it far more than was healthy over the past hour, but he was obviously confused at what had given me a sudden burst of insight. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be out front with the others.”
Jed still stood with his back to me, looking into Tim’s kitchen. I waited for him to come over but he stayed there, obstinate.
“Please.” It was all I said, but we both knew that I was asking for a few things with the one word.
His back softened, and after a moment he turned around. Pain covered his face, distress at losing yet another member of his crew.
I held out my hand to him, and he took the few halting steps necessary to grab it.
“Don’t blame yourself, Jed. You warned everyone, Tim knew that there was danger. There wasn’t much else you could do.” I knew that I wouldn’t change his mind, but I said the words anyway. Maybe they would give him a measure of comfort.
“What did you find?” He didn’t bother to address my words of solace.
I walked with him over to the couch and pointed at Tim’s back. “Why was Tim stabbed in the front?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean why did the attacker stab Tim in the chest? If the murderer broke in and found Tim sitting here, wouldn’t he just hit him in the back? It would be quicker, easier, and less dangerous.”
Jed looked at Tim’s back. There were no wounds there, the black fabric of his shirt stretched across the chilled flesh in an unbroken expanse.
“Uh, I don’t really know…”
“Well I do. There’s something else that I noticed. It’s so ordinary that it took me a while to realize that it might be out of place, but look, right there.” I point at the small table that stood next to the other chair.
“What, the table?”
“No,
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