Out of Mind by Stella Cameron Page A

a heart attack?” Blades asked Nat.
    “One of the officers at the scene thought I’d want to be there,” Nat said. “He saw one of the dragon victims.”
    “And he thought this was another one?” Blades shrugged. “Surprising he’d make the connection.”
    Nat hadn’t missed Ben’s remark about two bodies. This wasn’t the moment to press him about it, but plenty of explanations would be needed later.
    Was there another body? One that raised suspicion? Nat kept his attention on the body, but his back tensed.
    The overhead lights flattened everything in the cheerless space. White blended with steel and every surface gave off a glare.
    “We’re between a rock and a hard place,” Blades said, plucking at the sheet. “The powers that be in this town are afraid of something and you know what it is.” He gave Nat a significant look. “General panic in the city. People are settling down a bit after the last lot. Short memory is a great healer, but if this new event gets out, it won’t take long for connections to be made. Then the rumors will fly.”
    “Shit,” Gray said. “It’s happened again, hasn’t it?”
    “Something has,” Blades told him, drawing the cover away from a body. “I’m glad your wife, Marley—isn’t that her name? I’m glad she’s okay. I know it got close there.”
    Promptly, Gray said, “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
    Blades waved a hand. “I think Molyneux and the rest of them will resist admitting this has anything to do with the earlier cases, don’t you?”
    At first Nat wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He went closer and looked down on what had been Billy Baker. He identified the man from what was left of very curly blond hair.
    “My God,” Gray muttered.
    “What did that?” Nat asked, studying livid, exposed flesh that seemed to have bubbled.
    “The skin’s peeling off,” Ben said, closing in. “From the ribs up. It looks like it lifted up in circles around the little red wounds.”
    “It started up here.” Blades indicated the area of the forehead and scalp. “I don’t know what caused the wounds yet.”
    “Maybe you won’t now,” Ben said. “Won’t the missing skin make it harder?”
    “We’ll see,” Blades responded shortly. “The technicians said the skin was all there when they bagged him. It didn’t drop off in the bag, it just disappeared. I thought you’d want to know there were what looked like puncture wounds, Archer. Nothing like the ragged messes we’ve seen before, but still punctures.”
    Nat glanced away from the table. “Maybe they’ve been practicing,” he said, “and developed more finesse.”
    He added, “So what did he really die of?”
    “Heart attack,” Blades said, sounding annoyed. “Scared to death I should think. He must have seen whatever was coming and died before it could kill him.”

7
    V al Brandt behaved as if he didn’t know or particularly care to know most of the people at his own party. Handsome in a muscular, glossy, self-assured way, his charm was undeniable. But the smiles he aimed in all directions were not the kind that made people feel warm, or they wouldn’t if most people weren’t a little or a lot drunk.
    Every inch of the Brandts’ classically sumptuous home was incredibly beautiful. Rich was the word that came to Willow’s mind. Nothing had been spared in putting together the best of everything.
    Willow had spent almost two hours at Val’s side and still wasn’t sure why she was needed. The guests used the house and grounds, including a large oval pool and whitewashed, purple-wisteria-loaded cabana, as if they lived there.
    Food and drinks loaded every surface in a honey-colored granite, blond wood and stainless steel kitchen where the visitors wandered in and out, helping themselves. More tables were set out in front of the cabana. Servers worked on refills, but Willow hadn’t seen any sign of a recognizable catering company. Supplies had already been there when she arrived.
    “So,