Fraudulent Death, Draft 01, CH 07 (Patreon)

“I can confirm the body died of a broken neck,” Jaxca said, “the twist sheered the vertebrae apart and severed the spinal cord. He was as good as dead before the killer let go of him.”

Marlot looked at the pictures on his screen. “So I’m looking at someone strong. Was there any blood under the claws? Fur, or skin to help narrow down who killed him?”

“No, as far as I can tell he didn’t have the time to put up any resistance.”

Marlot frowned. “That’s unusual. Even prey defend themselves once you corner them. Anything in the blood to explain why he let it happen?”

“No, came back normal, he was fighting a cold, but it’s that time of the year. He ate a few hours before dying, but the contents were what I’d expect with a predator, meat, some greens, nothing fancy.”

“Any other injuries that would justify not putting up more of a fight?”

“Nothing that happened close to when he died. He got roughed up a week ago, give or take. Healing bruises, cuts, but it’s all superficial. It might have impeded running away from his killer was in better health, younger. But it wouldn’t have kept him from defending himself. Maybe he wanted to die?”

“And leave someone hanging for his tax? Why not pick someone who’d take his body and eat him?”

“I can’t help you there. I did run his DNA, which came back negative. So I made a cast of his dentition. Negative on that too.”

“Both?” That was unusual. Not every predator was in the DNA database, since the government hadn’t made it mandatory yet. They’d used the “don’t you want to be sure your family will know you have passed?” slogan, and last he’d heard, ninety-five percent of prey had registered. But Predators didn’t often think about their death, so it was only close to forty percent who had.

“That just means he didn’t have any dental work done in the last three years.”

“And has he?”

The frog chuckled. “I can tell you he had work done at some point. Repairs, fillings. Again, normal things I’d expect on a predator who hunts. Prey will get in a lucky shot.” He looked at something off-screen. “Or a dozen.”

Marlot found the description Jaxca had written up next to the pictures he’d taken. Head, each extremity, and full body. Wolf. Brindled coloring, height, and weight. Mid to late thirties. The bruises were indicated, as were the cuts, only two sets were visible on the pictures. Larger claws, so more likely a fight with another predator than a prey defending themselves.

“Anything else I need to know?”

“No. On the medical side, everything is as it looks. Someone strong took him by surprise, broke his neck and took his possession.”

“Thanks, Jaxca.”

He disconnected and looked at the message. I love you. He’d left it visible because after the way their evening ended, he needed the reminder it hadn’t ruined all their chances.

After a hesitation, he called.

“Hey,” Trembor answered.

“Hi.” Marlot smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m bored. The cubs did their morning questioning, although this time it was all about my few hours in a cage. From their question, they think I had this big adventure while there.”

“Everything was an adventure when we were cubs.” Marlot smile faltered. He didn’t like to think of his lion in a cage.

“How are things with you?”

“My body looks to have let himself be killed. And he’s not in the DNA or the dental database. Since the killer took his ID, I’m going to have to walk around and show his picture.”

“Not going to check the cameras?”

“I will, but the construction site didn’t have any and the whole area has this low tax feel to it so I don’t expect the city cameras will be maintained. I could use the company while I’m walking and talking to people.”

“Marl, I don’t have my license.”

“I’m not asking for you to work. Just be with me. Just us, being together. We don’t even have to talk. We can silently bask in each other’s love.”

Trembor chuckled. “Okay. I’ll message you after lunch. Bo wants to talk.”

“You think it’s about Nikal framing and kidnapping him?”

“That, or his gambling problem. I’m hoping he’s going to finally ask for help dealing with the problem instead of dodging it.”

“Whatever it is, you’re going to help him. I know you.”

Trembor was quiet. “I’ll do my best,” he finally said.

“I’ll let you know where I’m at when you message me.”

“Alright. Good luck in tracking the killer down.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your brother.”

Neither of them disconnected. Marlot listened to his lion breathe. Imagined himself resting against him.

Trembor chuckled. “You do have work to do.”

“I know. He’d be easier to do it with you here.”

“After we’re done asking around. I can come back to the office with you. I should say hi to Hela’han, if nothing else.”

“Okay, see you soon, then.” Marlot ended the call and set to work. If Trembor was going to come back here, he wanted to have as much ready as he could. Trembor might say he wouldn’t work, but they could still bounce ideas.

He started his tracking program and inputted what he had on the body; it was so little Marlot worried it might just die on initiation, but it began working. Marlot was curious what, if anything, it would find, but while it worked, he needed to do his part. He printed the pictures and headed to the neighborhood where it was found.

Hopefully, someone had seen him before he died and Marlot would be able to track his movements back to his home.