Bad Hair Day (6 page)

I
stood in the middle of a crime scene, contemplating a deadly coconut. Of all the things I’d expected to see today, lethal fruit wasn’t one of them.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I guess we can rule out premeditated murder.”

“Why do you say that?” Detective Despain asked.

“Can you imagine someone lugging a coconut around intending to bludgeon someone with it? If I intend to kill somebody, I’m going to grab a knife or a gun. Not a fuzzy fruit that people use to make tropical drinks.”

She nodded. “I came to the same conclusion.”

I felt a swell of pride but immediately pushed it away. I’d let my ego blind me during the whole zombie thing; I sure as heck wasn’t going to do it again.

“All right,” I said. “I’m ready to look at the victim now.”

Despain took me by the elbow. She wasn’t exactly dragging me, just applying a firm pressure that made me feel a little steadier. Like she knew this would be hard and she had my back. I appreciated the support. But still? I was so not prepared for the condition of the body.

I saw the face first. Completely unmarked. Well, except for the fancy tattoos like scrollwork around the eyes. She had pointy elf ears and purple hair. My stomach sank; she was definitely a gamer. I just hoped Jonah didn’t know her; his part in the zombie annihilation squad had made him strangely popular with the geek-girl crowd. I didn’t want to be the one to tell him one of his groupies had been murdered. But thankfully, he didn’t seem to have recognized her.

Unfortunately, the rest of the body wasn’t so pristine. From the neck down, there was an explosion of gore and coconut bits. I was never buying an Almond Joy again.

The right side of her torso was caved in, the ribs broken and sticking out through the skin. Her limbs were twisted in unnatural directions. Her right arm looked like a big question mark, which would have been funny if it wasn’t, you know, an arm. I couldn’t imagine anyone strong enough, not to mention insane enough, to do this.

“What do you think?” Despain gave my arm a squeeze. “Coconuts, right?”

I swallowed with difficulty. Of course it figured that my med-geek tendencies would desert me at a time like this. Despain actually
wanted my professional opinion, and all I could think of was that the victim wasn’t much older than me.

“Kate?” Despain tugged on my sleeve. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“I can do this.” I shook her off irritably. “You asked for my help, let me give it.”

She backed off. I should have probably felt guilty over snapping at her, but I was pretty sure she already understood I was just angry at whoever had done this.

I turned back to the body. Her getup was so darned distracting. She had this huge medallion at her throat covered in red and yellow gems too bright to be anything other than painted glass. That wasn’t so bad. But the hints of unmarked skin were painted, or maybe tattooed, in a scale pattern. I couldn’t figure out what she was supposed to be. A dragon elf lady? Then again, I couldn’t understand a lot of things. Like reality TV. And most teenage boys.

“I’m not so sure, Detective Despain. You see that … gouge there?” I asked, pointing. “And there? A coconut’s fairly flat. But this looks like she was stabbed, or …” I gulped. I didn’t want to say this out loud.

“Or what?”

“I think those might be claw marks.”

“And then they beat her with the coconut to obscure the damage?”

All of a sudden, I didn’t want to look at her anymore. “Maybe.” My hands were shaking. “Can we go out in the hall now?”

*

I slid down the wall to sit on the floor with my legs stretched halfway across the hallway. Despain hadn’t wanted to leave me, but she had a job to do. Right now, she was checking to see if there were any witnesses other than Jonah. I needed the time to get a hold of myself anyway. Maybe the killer would happen to run out this way and I’d trip him, and then it would all be over. Since I was wishing for things, I wanted a new med kit too. And maybe a pony.

But the only person who came out was Jonah. His narrow face was flushed with excitement, and his hair stuck out over his elf ears. For god’s sake, the guy was wearing a pair of tights under his tunic. As if he didn’t look geeky enough already. One look at him and people wanted to stick his head into toilets. Most people, anyway.

“Kate,” he said solemnly, “I have had another brush with death, and it was
awesome
.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” I sounded just as weary as I felt. “But I don’t think some girl getting killed is particularly awesome. It could have been you.”

He sank down next to me, his shoulder touching mine. And yeah, he was swirly-compatible, but he’d also stood with me against some tough odds before. It felt better just having him there, although I would have vehemently denied it in public.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Kate. But yeah, it’s sad about Holly.”

“Did you know her?” I sat up straighter. “Who did she hang
out with? Did she have any enemies? When was she last seen alive?”

“Slow down!” he said, waving his hands at me. “I didn’t know her very well. She was the priestess of the Clan of Awesome. I run Nightdark Clan. We run in totally different circles, but if you hang around here long enough, you learn most people’s names.”

I slumped back down in defeat. Man, nothing was going my way.

A door slammed somewhere down the hallway. I was more than a little jumpy, what with the whole dead-body-in-the-other-room thing, and I barely restrained myself from leaping to my feet with my arms held up like I knew kung fu, which I most certainly did not. My neck prickled; my hands trembled with the adrenaline rush. Stupid, really, because it was probably just another cop. Or a Klingon. Someone like that. They’d turn the corner any second now, and then I’d berate myself for stupidity.

It wasn’t another cop.

It was a tiny old woman in a navy blue suit. Her skin was the approximate color and texture of beef jerky. Normal people don’t look like that; I had an immediate, intense zombie flashback. At least this one was kind of small.

“Jonah.” I elbowed him, pointing toward the undead creature shambling toward us.

“What?” He blinked, looking down the hall. “Aw, crap. Another one?”

“Hey, guys,” I cupped my hand in front of my mouth, calling toward the ballroom. “We got a Grable’s case out here.”

One of the cops would come and neutralize her, but I didn’t want to wait. Bite marks really itch when they’re healing, and I had had enough of them on my arms and legs to last the rest of my life.

We scrambled to our feet. As we backed away, I looked around desperately for some kind of protective weapon. Unfortunately, weaponry is a little scarce in the middle of a convention center hallway.

“Here!” Jonah hissed, pointing toward a door marked with a gold plaque—
SUPPLY CLOSET
.

I followed him inside as the zombie advanced toward us. It was one of the creepier ones I’d seen. She looked like one of Santa’s elves after it got left under the broiler just a little too long.

The door slammed behind us, leaving us in pitch-blackness. “Weapons,” I muttered, groping around for something defensive. My hand searched the shelves to my right. Toilet paper. Lots of it. Something told me it wouldn’t do much good to pelt the zombie with rolls of Angel Soft. I heard a clatter and a muffled “Crap,” from Jonah. He evidently wasn’t having much better luck than I was.

Finally, I found a broom and held it out in front of me in a pseudodefensive position.

The door swung open. I didn’t wait; I gave that crispy critter a face full of bristles. “Go away, zombie!” I yelled. Jonah had my back; he pelted her with rolls of paper towels. One bounced off her forehead. She yelped and backpedaled. Then I noticed the
uniformed cop standing by her side. It was the same guy who’d asked for my autograph earlier.

“Stop that!” the zombie said irritably, trying to shove the broom away from her face.

Zombies don’t talk like normal people. It was hard to believe that this woman was a regular old human, but all evidence pointed in that direction. Unfortunately, Jonah had already launched another paper towel missile at her face. I swatted it away with my broom.

“Um, sorry,” I said. “We thought you were …”

“A zombie. Yes, I heard.” Her leathery face screwed up with distaste. “I’m the hotel manager. Is that why you’re ransacking my supply closet? I thought you were trying to loot us.”

“No, ma’am,” said Jonah, laying on what little charm he had. “We’re sorry, but it was an honest mistake. We’ll clean up the mess.”

“You’d better,” she said. “Or I’ll have you arrested. No one vandalizes my building while I’m on the job!” Then she lurched back down the hallway, muttering to herself.

The cop leaned against the doorframe and watched as we straightened all the shelves, chuckling the entire time. I wanted to pelt him with toilet paper, but with my luck, I’d probably get arrested, so I didn’t.

I
showed up at the morgue the next day with circles under my eyes and a cup of coffee as big as my head. Sandi-with-an-
i
had tried to take the coffee away from me when I got on the bus, but one look at my face scared her off. I got way more satisfaction out of that than I should have.

One step through the door and I knew Dr. Burr hadn’t been released from jail yet. Sebastian sat in the middle of the tile floor, letting out little goatlike bleats of panic every five seconds. I felt a sudden wave of pity. Yeah, he was annoying, but his boss had been arrested for murder. I remembered how horrible it had felt when I’d learned that someone I respected had betrayed my trust.

So instead of biffing him on the head with a notebook and telling him to suck it up, I sat down cross-legged on the floor and chucked him on the shoulder.

“Come on,” I said gently. “It’ll be okay. We can handle things until someone shows up to help.”

“But there’s nobody to help! Dr. Grundleford-Pluta is unreachable, and Dr. Burr is gone, and we’ve got two murder victims, and three bodies from the hospital, and we’re going to run out of spaces in storage, and I don’t know what to do, and—”

I patted his back, maybe a little more forcefully than I should have, but the effort had to count for something.

“That stuff is out of our control. Let’s focus on what we
can
control.”

“I wish Dr. Burr were here.”

“Me too.” We sat in companionable silence for a minute. “So what’s it like working with him, anyway? He seems like such a gentle, patient guy.”

“He’s not a murderer, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Sebastian snapped, his panic morphing abruptly into anger. “It’s what you really want to know, isn’t it?”

“Chill, okay? I find it tough to believe too. He just doesn’t seem like the type.”

I used my nicest voice, but it didn’t have any effect on him. Sebastian had suddenly turned into a thug in geek’s clothing. It was almost laughable, except he seemed serious.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you’re an expert on crimes of passion,” he said, glowering.

“I’m agreeing with you, Sebastian. Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

This time, I went for logic; I was better at that than the
touchy-feely garbage. It seemed to get through too. I watched all the fuss and bluster melt away. I could actually see him shrink back to normal size. Kinda like the Hulk, only less colorful.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I’m just … pissed, I guess.”

“Pissed why?”

“I like Dr. Burr. And I know for a fact he didn’t kill anyone.”

“For a fact?” I raised my eyebrows.

He looked down at his shoes. “Just a figure of speech. I’m not talking hard evidence.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. “Well, come on. Why don’t you get in touch with all the docs who sent us bodies from the hospital and let them know about our situation? I’ll handle the murder victims.”

“Okay.”

He picked up a few files and trudged to the middle office like I’d asked him to take on a monumental task. I didn’t really care as long as it got him out of the way so I could do a little investigating. As soon as the door closed behind him, I grabbed my phone and dashed for the cold room.

The room was pretty minimalistic; there was a long row of stainless steel cabinets and a gurney pushed against the wall with a full body bag on top. I knew who was in that bag, so I didn’t even bother looking. It was the guy they’d delivered yesterday, the one I’d signed for. The bag had a big bleachy-looking stain on the side, so it was pretty distinctive.

Another clipboard hung on the wall; it took only a few seconds to figure out where Holly was stored. I opened the door to
her storage unit and slid her out. This time, it was easier to look at her. Somehow, seeing her in the lab setting made it feel … less real, maybe. But still, I felt almost reverent as I used my cell to take pictures of the scrollwork on her face; it was a little smudged on one side, probably from the bag rubbing up against it. I photographed her clothes. Her hands were bagged, and I wasn’t about to mess with that, so I contented myself with looking for any stray evidence. Coconut bits or something. But I didn’t see anything. At least the damage didn’t look quite as bad as it had before. Her arm was much less question-marky than I’d thought it was.