Legal Heat by Sarah Castille Page A

outstretched fingers, and he dropped the perfume bottle inside and sealed it. The scent remained strong. James bent down for a closer look. The perfume had dripped down the nightstand and had been caught by a plastic bag lying on the carpet.
    “Bag.” He put the perfumed bag in the evidence bag and frowned. Another plastic bag. Another swollen body. There had to be a connection. He had been around too long to believe in coincidence.
    “Anyone talk to her boyfriend, Jimmy Rider?”
    “We checked him out,” Mike said, squatting down beside him. “He’s currently in jail for assault, possession and dealing. Apparently, he tried to sell unlicensed pharmaceuticals to an undercover operative and then got away. A beat cop picked him up a few blocks later and he resisted arrest. He said the police had the wrong guy.”
    James snorted. “They all say that.”
    He pushed himself to his feet. “I want a sniffer dog up here and over at Garcia’s place. Check Garcia’s cab as well for any drug residue. I’m going down to the station to interview the two lawyers who found her.”
    Outside the apartment complex, he shed his protective suit and headed for his vehicle.
    “Hunter.”
    James recognized the voice and kept walking. Footsteps rang out behind him. He reached his Crown Victoria and pulled out his keys.
    “Hunter, if you don’t talk to me, I’ll print based on rumors.”
    He spun around and glared at Phillip Keegan, Vancouver’s most irritating crime reporter. Keegan flashed a set of perfect pearly whites and James wondered for the umpteenth time why a guy who looked like a damn blond Adonis had chosen the underpaid life of a journalist.
    “No comment.”
    “I’m hearing rumors about elephant people in our midst. Care to comment?” Keegan held up a small recorder.
    James pulled open the car door and stepped inside. “Maybe there’s a circus in town.”
    “Funny. You’re a funny a cop, Hunter.” Keegan stepped in front of the door, preventing James from slamming it closed.
    “You wouldn’t think so if I held a gun to your head,” James growled.
    “I hope you aren’t threatening me. Someone needs to find out where the elephant people are coming from before they hurt someone. I wouldn’t want one of Vancouver’s finest detectives languishing in jail when the city is overrun.”
    “At least I wouldn’t have to see you.”
    Keegan put his hand on the roof of the vehicle and leaned toward James. “How about I smooth things over with a joke? You used to like jokes when we started our little arrangement.”
    James looked up at Keegan’s hand and then locked his gaze on the reporter until Keegan removed his hand and backed away.
    Unperturbed, Keegan tucked away his recorder and pulled out his notebook. “What do you get when you cross an elephant with a skin doctor?” He flipped through the pages and looked down at James. “You’ll like this joke because it’s relevant to the case. My sources tell me the victim’s skin was grotesquely stretched all over her body.”
    James reached for the interior door handle.
    “A pachydermatologist.” Keegan laughed. “Reporters can be funny too.”
    “You’ve missed your calling.” James leaned back in his seat and sighed. Years of experience trying to dodge the persistent reporter told him he would have to throw Keegan a few crumbs to make him go away. “I have work to do. You can quote this. Accidental death. Possibly an allergic reaction. Times two.”
    Keegan snorted. “I’m not buying it. And if I don’t buy it, my discerning readers won’t either. People have allergic reactions every day. They don’t swell up twice the size and die grossly disfigured. They also don’t all have a common friend.”
    James hissed in a breath. Damn Keegan. Where did he get his information ? “You have a loose-lipped friend, likely in the coroner’s office, who is about to lose his job. But, you have my attention.”
    “Tell me an elephant joke and I’ll give you