Page 17

While Gregory probably would have preferred a traditional quick burial, I had the feeling that he’d rather we catch his killer even more, which meant waiting for the postmortem.

Andthatmeant that we had to talk to the Shawano County Medical Examiner’s Office, so we needed a case number from Shawano PD.

At least I didn’tsoundinhuman, so I had a chance of convincing the police to give me what I wanted. At some point, though, they were probably going to meet me, so I really tried to make the phone call count before they saw my pointy ears.

A woman with the most midwestern-sounding voice I’d ever heard—and I’mfromShawano—answered the phone, and I spared a half-second to hope that I didn’t re-acquire my northern Wisconsin accent while I was here. One, I hated it, and, two, Ward would give me shit about it until I lost it again.

“I need to speak to someone about releasing the body of Gregory Crane,” I told the woman.

“You family?”

“I’m calling on behalf of his son.”

“You a lawyer?”

“He’s retained my services,” I replied, hedging my bets. I wasn’t about to lie to her—or anyone in the Shawano PD—but I also didn’t have to fully disclose. Legally speaking.

Sitting on the bed going through the papers Gregory had left in the folder in his magical safe, Elliot raised an eyebrow at me.

It wasn’t a lie. I was letting him retain mepro bonoas a private investigator, even if I hadn’t actually bothered to tell Elliot that. Ihadgotten Ward’s permission to do it under the auspices of Beyond the Veil Investigations. Sure, I wasn’t alawyer, but I didn’t say that I was, and if she assumed, that wasn’t on me. Legally speaking, anyway. It was definitely still a dick move, but I’m not above making dick moves, especially in the name of justice.

The woman on the other end of the phone either didn’t notice or didn’t care. It rang again after she patched me through to someone else.

“Detective Smith.” I wondered for half a second if he was bullshitting me, then decided that Shawano PD probably wasn’t in the habit of randomly lying about their names to people they didn’t know yet. Give them a few days of my annoying ass, and they might, but I hadn’t actually done anything to piss them off. Yet.

“Detective. My name is Hart, and I’ve been retained by Elliot Crane.”

“Crane?”

“That’s right.” I was trying to be polite. “I’m calling to inquire about the timing on the release of Mr. Crane’s body.”

I winced when I saw Elliot flinch. Right. I’d have to watch what exactly I said. I was used to being direct—that’s how we got shit done in homicide. I’d figured it was likely going to be the best way for me to get the information I wanted out of this detective. And it probablywas, but it would have been a lot more tactful of me to at least have gone outside to do it so Elliot didn’t have to hear me being a cold bastard. It wasn’t that I didn’t care that Gregory Crane was dead—I did. But I can compartmentalize like nobody’s business when I have to, and I was compartmentalizing like fuck now.

I heard Smith shuffling through papers, his voice the kind of muffled you got when you’d tucked a phone against your chin. “Yeah, okay. Crane’s autopsy is tomorrow afternoon. Should be able to have the funeral home pick him up day after that, since it’s open and shut.”

Although I had considerable doubts aboutthat, now was not the time to get into it. Much.

“I don’t suppose I would be able to also get a complete copy of the file, since it’s being closed?” I tried to sound polite-yet-disinterested. “For the family’s records.”

Smith paused, sensing something wasn’t what he was expecting. “They want the crime scene report?”

“I understand there are some—” I tried to think of phrasing that wasn’t going to piss off either Detective Smith or Elliot. “—strong emotions in play. The complete file might help to alleviate some of the… tensions around them.”

I hoped that was bullshitty enough to signal to Elliot that this was about manipulating the Shawano PD into giving me what I wanted, but not quite bullshitty enough that Smith was going to refuse me.

“Who did you say you worked for, again?”

“I’ve been retained by Elliot Crane,” I repeated.

“What firm, Mr. Hart?” He was starting to sound annoyed.

“BTV Investigations,” I replied smoothly, as though he should know what that meant.

“Investigations?” There was the suspicion. Damn.

“You understand that all avenues need to be explored regarding manner of death for… insurance purposes,” I replied, trying to make it sound like I was simply doing a job, not that I was about to unleash unholy hell on him for writing off Gregory Crane’s death as a suicide.

“You do insurance investigations?”