They both shook their heads, faces tight and eyes haunted. “No one else,” one said. “House is clear.”
Crawford blew out a gusty breath as he moved to the door. I stayed on the porch while he entered and moved to within about five feet of Brian’s body. I watched him take in the sight of the blood and the gun. The hard professional mien was in place. He was doing the same thing I was—doing what needed to be done and promising himself that he could fall apart later. He peered down at the note, then came back outside and looked to the two officers. “All right. String tape up, please, and get a scene log going.” After the two departed, he looked back at me. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”
“Not your fault,” I said with a shrug I didn’t feel. “Someone had to be the first to find him.” I glanced at my watch. It had been only ten minutes since I’d found him. It felt like an eternity. “I don’t think he’s going to make that meeting with the witness.”
“Fucker,” Crawford said, a ghost of a smile on his face. He knew I was trying to break the awful tension. “I’m gonna have to write him up after all.” We both gave stupid little giggles, then in the next breath Crawford had me enveloped in a big man-hug. I returned the embrace, knowing he needed the comfort as much as I did. A heartbeat later we stepped back, neither one of us the slightest bit embarrassed about the display of emotion.
“I need to make some phone calls,” he said with a sigh. “Crime lab’s already on the way.”
“And we need to find his wife. Does anyone know where she worked? Does she have family around here?”
“We’ll find all of that out,” he said, the growl in his voice a promise. Then he stepped away to make his calls.
I was saved from slipping back into agonized ponderings about Brian’s missing essence by the sight of the crime-scene van pulling into the driveway. It parked behind Crawford’s car, and Crime Scene Technician Jill Faciane hopped out—a petite woman with short red hair and an elfin face, dressed in blue fatigue pants and a Beaulac PD T-shirt. She headed toward me, pausing only to scrawl her name on the crime-scene log before ducking under the tape that had been hastily strung.
“I hate to say it,” I said when Jill reached me, “but I’m really glad you’re the tech on call.” We’d worked together extensively during the Symbol Man case and had become friends in the process. I’d grown up fairly lonely and isolated due to my penchant for summoning demons, so having a female friend was something new and rewarding.
She gave a sharp nod of understanding. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
She shook her head, blue eyes dark and angry. “I hate it when one of our own dies. Even when it’s some sort of stupid accident at home.”
I knew what she meant. Police were a family, a brotherhood—no matter what the gender.
Her scowl deepened. “But a suicide. God damn it.”
“The note says that he killed his wife,” I said, voice grim.
She jammed her fingers through her hair. “It’s just so hard to believe. I’d heard they were having some problems, but shit. Everyone goes through rough patches.”
I shook my head. “The way it’s worded makes it sound like it was an accident, but I did a quick sweep and couldn’t find her.”
“And so he killed himself? How the fuck could he do this to us?” I could hear the anger in her voice, and I understood it.
I sighed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve lost anyone.” Then I winced. “I mean—”
“Other than you,” Jill said quietly. “But at least you came back.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Those two weeks were awful.”
I didn’t know how to respond. After the showdown with the Symbol Man, it had been assumed that I was dead. There’d been plenty of evidence to support that assumption, including eyewitness accounts of me being eviscerated and a few gallons of my blood on the scene—though no body. A cover story had later been spun to explain my disappearance and surprising reappearance, but there were only two people in this world who knew what had actually happened, who knew that I really had died. For two weeks, at least.
“But your funeral,” she said, forcing a grin, “man, that was some shit! The procession was five miles long!”
I made myself return the grin. “Everyone just wanted to get out of work.”
Jill snorted and thwapped me on the arm. “You are so stupid.” Then she gave a sigh. “Well, lemme get my shit so I can start processing this scene.”
Crawford walked back over to me as Jill trotted to her van. “The rank will be making their way out here in due course, and the search is on for Carol.” He gave me a penetrating look. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing fine.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll let myself feel it all later.”