Free Demon Accords 10: Rogues by John Conroe

interest.
     
    “Sorry to meet you this way, Sheriff, and yes, Mr. Alcombe was murdered by a werewolf.  I’m pretty sure this man was too,” she said, continuing to study with her eyes to back up what her nose had already told her.
     
    “That quick?  One glance from a doorway?” the sheriff asked, incredulous.
     
    “If you know what to look for, a werewolf kill is really obvious, Sheriff.  Natural carnivores kill to eat or defend.  Weres that kill humans do it for usual human reasons, like greed, fear, the thrill of the kill, or in this case, anger.  Enormous anger,” she said, moving a step into the garage and looking around again, even glancing back at the doorframe, doing a double take and then back to the sheriff.
     
    “If I had to guess, I’d say the victim brought that bag of garbage out.  But the lights didn’t work so he set it down near the garbage cans and grabbed that yellow worklight that’s currently on the floor there, from his tool bench.  Then he got killed.  The killer pretty much crushed his ribcage with its jaws while shaking his body so hard that his head eventually ripped itself off and flew over there.  See that pile of sawdust by that machine there?  It looks like it fell out of the machine when the victim’s body was slammed into it.  See how it’s shaped?  Like a paw print?”
     
    “But the lights work?” Buck asked.
     
    “There’s a smudge of blood on the wire just above the switch.  I think the killer pulled the wire loose, Changed into his wolf form, and waited for the victim.  Then when he was done, he switched back to human form and repaired the wire before leaving.  You should dust it for prints.  And check outside for footprints.  Ground’s not frozen yet.”
     
    Sheriff Grable cocked his head a bit sideways and studied her, his expression hard to read but if she had to guess, he didn’t believe her.  He smelled of anger and fear, a dangerous combination.  She thought back over her words and realized she could have been more circumspect about her delivery.  That was too rapid fire, and she hadn’t pretended to study the visual cues long enough.  She was used to working with Chris and Tanya, all of whom could smell as well as she could, with the exception of Declan, but he had a whole range of senses that she and the others couldn’t experience.
     
    The sheriff didn’t speak, instead walking closer and bending to look at the exposed white wire and its red smudge.
     
    She stepped back out of the doorway and flashed her small LED light at the ground just outside the garage door.  She could literally smell where the killer had stepped, in bare feet, but there wasn’t a track until she turned the back corner of the garage.  There, in a small patch of grass and moss, mostly moss, was a bare human footprint.
     
    The sheriff and Buck moved up near her and spotted the track, illuminated by her flashlight.
     
    It was maybe a size ten or eleven, she guessed.
     
    “Son of a bitch,” the sheriff said quietly. 
     
    “I’ll get the casting kit,” Buck said, heading back out front.
     
    That left her alone with the sheriff, who continued to study the track, playing his own beam of light further ahead toward the treeline.
     
    “He could be watching us right now, couldn’t he?” he asked.
     
    She studied the line of trees, the shadows much less of a hindrance to her eyes.  The wind swirled, gusting from that direction before settling back toward that direction.
     
    “Maybe.  I doubt it.  Although with young rogues, anything’s possible,” she said, not willing to assure the sheriff that nothing currently lurked in those woods.
     
    “Buck says you know them,” he commented.
     
    “Them, sheriff?”
     
    “That Gordon and the vampire girl,” he said, clearing his throat a bit uncomfortably as he did.
     
    “I know lots of vampires, Sheriff.  Lots of werewolves, too.  But if you mean Chris and Tanya, then yes, I know