Mathias didn’t want to think about what he would need to do if peeling back any of those layers proved her guilt in the killing of the man who confronted her in Ozzy’s shop.
He would be duty-bound to surrender her to JUSTIS and let the system decide her fate.
Somehow, he didn’t think she’d stand by and wait for that to happen.
Nova’s headstrong, defiant gaze in the shop last night had told him that much. No, she would run before she’d let herself be shackled. But would she do anything more desperate?
Mathias dreaded being the one to find out.
His head was still churning on that troubling scenario when his comm unit buzzed with an incoming call. He grabbed it off the counter, recognizing his friend Gavin Sloane’s number.
“Don’t tell me you fished another scarab out of the Thames,” he murmured by way of greeting.
“No,” Sloane said. “But we may have a lead on the seven on ice down at the morgue.”
Mathias’s senses went taut with attention. “How so?”
“They had a visitor early this morning. Coroner’s got surveillance video of a woman being admitted into the morgue by one of the graveyard shift employees. She seemed to know at least a few of the victims, held their hands for a couple of minutes before rushing out of the room like she was going to lose her shit.”
The blood in Mathias’s veins started hammering hard with warning. He’d told Nova about the bodies in the morgue. She had seemed shocked, even troubled. But could she have known those men? Could she be mixed up in not just one slaying, but all seven of them?
Ah, fuck. Everything Mathias stood for demanded that he voice his suspicions to his friend, here and now. Yet there was a part of him that wanted to shield Nova from that kind of trouble.
He wanted to be certain before he tossed her into the fray.
“Do you have a description of this woman?” he asked, his voice sounding wooden, even to his own ears.
“It’s not great footage to work with, unfortunately,” Sloane said. “She was wearing a hat and baggy clothing, no doubt to conceal her appearance.”
Mathias gripped his comm like a life line, despising himself for the relief that coursed through him. “Damn, that’s too bad. It might’ve been helpful to find this woman and bring her in for questioning, see if she can give us any IDs on the dead.”>“Nothing.” She shook her head, forcing herself to hold his knowing gaze. “I don’t want anything from you.”
For the longest time, he just stood there, measuring her. Looking right through her. God help her if he ever saw the truth.
“When you’re ready, I want you to tell me what happened here, Nova. All of it. As for the rest...” His deep voice trailed off, and he gave a weary shake of his head. “You know how to reach me.”
She stepped away from the open door. “Good-bye, Mathias.”
He walked out.
As soon as he had, she closed the door behind him and threw the bolt.
Then she sagged back against the battered black steel and released the shaky breath that had been burning in her lungs.
CHAPTER 5
At barely five a.m. the next morning, Nova stood outside the green doors of the Southwark coroner’s office employee entrance in a baggy gray sweatshirt and jeans, her hair concealed under a knit cap. She rapped twice, her breath steaming as she waited in the pre-dawn chill.
The door creaked open, revealing a reed-thin man in a white lab coat. His graying, dishwater blond hair was caught up in an elasticized plastic cap, baring his neck and the edges of the extensive tattoos that weren’t quite concealed by the collar of his coat.
“Thanks for doing this, Stan.”
“No worries,” her long-time client said. “I’m the only one on shift right now, so come on in.”
She’d called him last night, immediately after Mathias Rowan left the shop. Stan hadn’t asked any questions about why she was interested in the recent arrivals at the area morgue. That she wanted to come down and have a look had been explanation enough for one of Ozzy’s regulars.
Even better, Stan wasn’t going to require her to present ID and sign in, the way she’d have to if her visit had been anything but covert.
“This way,” he said, leading her inside to a cold room of white tile and stainless steel. The place reeked of antiseptic and death. “All of the John Does are in those coolers on the far wall, Nova. Take as much time as you need.”