Free For a Few Demons More by Kim Harrison Page A

up top, with shoulder-length hair that curled gently where it wasn’t matted. Pretty. No tattoos that I could see. Mid-thirties? She took care of herself, giventhe definition. I wondered what had been so bad that she thought the answer was to end it.
    Seeing me satisfied, Glenn opened a third drawer. “This one was hit by a car,” he said as he unzipped the sturdy bag. “The officer recognized her as being a Were, and she made it to the hospital. They actually had her turned back to treat her, but she died.” Creases appeared in his brow as he looked at her damaged body. “Her heart gave out. Right on the table.”
    I forced my gaze down, flinching at the bruises and skin split by the accident. IV tips were still in her, evidence of the efforts to save her life. Jane Wolf number two had brown hair as well, longer this time, but it curled the same way. She looked the same age and had the same narrow chin. Apart from a scrape on her cheekbone, her face was untouched, and she seemed professional and collected.
    Running in front of a car wasn’t uncommon, the Were equivalent of a human jumper. Most times they weren’t successful, landing under a doctor’s care, where they should have been in the first place.
    I followed Glenn to a fourth drawer, finding out why Jenks was being so quiet when he gagged and flew to the trash can. “Train,” Glenn said simply, his voice soft with regret.
    Coffee and lack of sleep were warring in me, but I’d seen a demon slaughter, and this was like dying in your sleep compared to that. I think I was earning points with Glenn as I looked her over, trying not to breathe in the scent of decay the chill of the room couldn’t stop. It appeared as if Jane Wolf number three was as tall as the first woman and possessed the same athletic body build. Brown hair to her shoulders. I couldn’t tell if she had been pretty or not.
    Seeing me nod, Glenn zipped up the bag and shut the drawer, closing all of them on his way back to Vanessa. Not entirely sure why he had wanted me to see this, I trailed behind him.
    Jenks’s wings were silent as he returned, and I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t tell Ivy I lost it,” he asked, and I nodded. “They all smell the same,” he said, and I felt him hold on to my ear for balance as he stood as close as he could to my perfumed neck.
    â€œJeez, Jenks, they all look the same to me.” But I don’t think he appreciated my attempt at humor.
    Glenn’s steps slowed to a halt, and we gazed at Mr. Ray’s secretary.“Those three women were suicides,” he said, “the first one dying by self-mutilation, as Mr. Ray’s secretary appears to have died. I think she was murdered, then doctored up to mimic suicide.”
    I glanced at him, wondering if he was looking for ghosts in the fog. Seeing my doubt, he ran a hand over his short, curly hair. “Look at this,” he said, leaning over Vanessa and picking up a limp hand. “See?” he said, his dark fingers circling her thin wrist in sharp contrast to her pale skin. “That looks like a bruise caused by restraints. Soft restraints, but restraints. They aren’t on the woman who made it to the hospital, and I know they had to tie her down.”
    Okay. Now I was interested. Maybe Vanessa had been into sex games and it went too far? Leaning forward, I agreed that the soft red ring could have resulted from a restraint, but it was her nails that caught my attention. They had been professionally manicured, but the tips were split and ragged. A woman considering suicide doesn’t pay beaucoup bucks to get her nails done, then tear them up before she can end her life properly. “Where was she found?” I asked softly.
    Glenn heard my interest and flicked me a grin that quickly sobered. “Under a dock in the Hollows. A tour group spotted her before she could get cold.”
    Not wanting to be left