
"Detective Kylowski," he identified himself, holding out an ID badge. "Sorry to drag you down here at this time of night."
Sure he was. "What happened?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," he said. "Neither vic has any ID, and we haven't been able to track them down."
"The woman came to my apartment tonight," I told him, deciding to skip over the fact that she'd already been there when I'd arrived. "She said she was in trouble and asked for help."
"And you said …?"
"I told her to call the cops or try the women's shelter and sent her on her way."
"After giving her one of your guns?"
"I didn't give her anything," I said. "Obviously, she helped herself."
"Without you noticing?"
"I was very tired," I said. "I still am."
"Uh-huh," he said, looking closely at me. "And you're sure this is the same woman?"
"I recognize her clothing," I told him. "I doubt there are two women dressed that way who've had access to my apartment lately."
"Don't you think you should at least take a look at her face?" he persisted, gesturing me toward the bodies. "It'll only take a minute."
"If you insist," I said, frowning as I walked over with him. Usually homicide cops weren't so eager to foist the details of their gory little world on people.
"This might shock you a little," he warned as he crouched down, his fingers getting a grip on the edge of the preservation cloth, his eyes locked unblinkingly on my face.
"Thanks for the warning," I growled. Did he think the sight of a couple of dead bodies was going to shock an ex-Westali agent? "Go ahead."
He flipped over the cloth.
And I nearly lost my dinner.
Lorelei's face above and in front of her ear was blood-spattered but mostly intact. Her head and neck below the ear, in contrast, were effectively gone, shattered into a mess of blood and shattered bone and pulp.
I twisted my face away from the sight, keeping my stomach under control by sheer force of will. I was still standing there, staring at a storm-sewer grating, when Kylowski took my arm and steered me away. "You all right?" he asked.
