flattered her figure. “This is our criminologist, Dr. Natalie Lafferty,” Elise introduced. “Natalie, this is Dr. Simon Pellar, and my cousin Lex, who’s sort of serving as his assistant today.”
That was a nice way of putting it. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, her words turning into a giant yawn. “Sorry, haven’t had my coffee yet.”
“Right there with you,” I muttered.
“Where is the object?” Simon asked, ignoring me.
The woman gestured at the table. “Ordinarily I’d have it out already, but under the circumstances we didn’t want to stink up the building more than we absolutely have to.” She gave us a wry smile. “I did try to pawn it off on the CBI—that’s the Colorado Bureau of Investigation—but they won’t accept it until we take it apart. And Elise here”—she glanced at my cousin with a faint smile—“ insisted that we couldn’t do that without a biologist present.”
I realized that Elise was very pointedly not looking at me. Wait a minute . . . was she blushing ? I hadn’t even known she could blush, but there was definitely a little chemistry going on between her and the criminologist, no pun intended. I worked to keep the grin off my face.
Then Dr. Lafferty took a deep breath and stepped toward a closed door. “Breathe through your mouth,” she advised. She opened the cupboard, and I forgot all about teasing Elise.
The smell hit us like a concussion wave, violent and foul and revolting. Elise had already experienced the stench, so she just locked her fingers around her nose without comment. Simon gagged and covered his mouth and nose with both hands, but I got that sense that this was less to keep the smell out and more to keep his stomach contents in . I had smelled worse in Iraq and managed to keep my hurried breakfast down, but my eyes were watering. “Yeah,” said Lafferty, as though the word explained everything. “There’s that.”
She turned around, struggling under the weight of a metal tray, and we finally got a good look at the bundle. “Whoa,” Simon breathed. It looked like a number of wet objects had been compressed together into a brown, lumpy sphere, then covered in some kind of translucent liquid. It was much larger than I’d imagined, like someone had taken one of those big stuffed medicine balls and dipped it in snot.
“The hiker smelled it first,” Elise explained, her plugged nose subduing the words. “She thought maybe something had died near the trail, went to look.”
“The working theory is that some kids from the university got hold of a bundle of clothes,” Lafferty went on, “maybe from a homeless man, and decided to dump a chemistry experiment all over it. We already took photos, so I’m ready when you are.”
I glanced at Simon. I’d nearly forgotten he was here to do a job. My friend had straightened up a bit, lowering his hands and breathing hard out of his mouth. I recognized his expression, because it was the same one he’d worn all the time when we were first experimenting with my abilities. Simon was fascinated.
He stepped forward and handed me his cane without taking his eyes off the bundle. Lafferty gave him a pair of latex gloves, and while he put them on, she opened another cupboard and pulled out a pan full of sterile instruments. She set it on the table near the tray.
“Do you know what it is?” Elise asked Simon, her tone a little more demanding than the situation required.
“It’s the strangest thing,” he murmured, and from his distracted tone I wasn’t sure he’d even heard the question or if he was just thinking out loud. He had bent over to get a closer look at the mound of slime, so I did too, trying to breathe as slowly as possible. On closer inspection, I could make out some bits of clothing and what might have been the sole of a shoe.
Simon murmured, “It almost looks like a—”
“Gastric pellet?” Elise interrupted, excitement in her voice.
To my surprise, Simon nodded.
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