concluded that would be insensitive toward her newfound healthy lifestyle.
Once we’d demolished lunch, we turned to the grislier subject of autopsy reports. Sahana passed out several sheets of paper for us to review. She waited about five seconds before jumping in. Excitement lit her usually serious features, an excitement that was contagious. She has something! Finally, a break in the case.
“So I went back and double-checked, but you were right that neither of the previous Jove Does had their tongues removed or catnip placed into their mouths. However ,” she drawled à la Trinity, a satisfied smile playing at her lips, “when I viewed the magical makeup of the catnip while in Raga song, I noticed something ve-eee-ry interesting. It matched the makeup of an unknown substance, traces of which had been found in the blood of all three Cats.”
I blinked. Hadn’t been expecting that. “Wait, are you saying they were all poisoned?”
Scott shook his head emphatically. “The Bastai may hate catnip for what it symbolizes, but it’s not poisonous to them.”
Sahana set a paper with a chart full of bars and text on the table. She tapped one of the lines. “Normally, no. But this was no ordinary catnip. It appears to be a magical hybrid that I can’t find in any of the books.” She raised a finger in the air. “True that none of your vics died from this toxic-to-them catnip. The dose was way too low for that. However . . . ”
She let her voice trail off dramatically. Hooked, line and sinker, I bit. “What?”
“My theory is that all were drugged with this catnip to first weaken them so they could be overpowered; and second, break down their bodies’ normal abilities to regenerate upon death.”
My pulse picked up speed. “Wait. Are you saying that this catnip is not only some kind of Kitty Cat Kryptonite, it automatically takes them from ninety-nine lives to game over ? ”
“Well, I’d have to test it on a volunteer to be a hundred percent sure—but I don’t think anyone’s going to rush in for that case study.” We couldn’t help chuckling at that visual. “I was hoping you might see if Special Agent Cruz would be willing to donate some blood and tissue samples so I could compare how her samples respond to the catnip versus the samples from the corpses I’ve already tested. I don’t have any Cat friends myself or I would ask them.”
I jotted a reminder in my notebook. “No, Sahi, I’m sure she’d be happy to do that. And you’ve done great ! We’ve been stumped on how the perp put their lights out permanently without decapitation or incineration.”
Trinity nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, great work indeed. Although . . . ” She bit her lip and shot me a reluctant look.
Sheesh. Somebody always had to go and rain on my parade. “What?” I sounded much less eager to hear the conclusion to that dramatic pause.
“Well, if someone used the catnip to drug our vics, and the drug weakens Cats considerably . . . ” Ah hell. I really didn’t like where I suspected she was going with this. “Doesn’t that mean that a female could have pulled these murders off?”
Effectively doubling our already-sketchy list of suspects. Yeah, at least she hadn’t disappointed: I hated that conclusion every bit as much as expected.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IF SOMEONE BROUGHT MY IDEA OF HELL TO life and sent me there, it couldn’t have been worse than my debut as Sierra Nieves, Wedding Planner to the Stars and new transplant to Boston, Mass. My first mistake had been trusting Harper’s FBI associates to create my alter ego, which turned out to be even worse than my already-low expectations. She was, quite simply, a Diva with a capital D. Double D’s, actually—which I was reminded of every thirty seconds when one of Harper’s uncles let his gaze fall from my eyes to my overly ample assets.
Remember you’re playing a role, I chanted to myself in the middle of the expensive catering venue, where five dozen
Once we’d demolished lunch, we turned to the grislier subject of autopsy reports. Sahana passed out several sheets of paper for us to review. She waited about five seconds before jumping in. Excitement lit her usually serious features, an excitement that was contagious. She has something! Finally, a break in the case.
“So I went back and double-checked, but you were right that neither of the previous Jove Does had their tongues removed or catnip placed into their mouths. However ,” she drawled à la Trinity, a satisfied smile playing at her lips, “when I viewed the magical makeup of the catnip while in Raga song, I noticed something ve-eee-ry interesting. It matched the makeup of an unknown substance, traces of which had been found in the blood of all three Cats.”
I blinked. Hadn’t been expecting that. “Wait, are you saying they were all poisoned?”
Scott shook his head emphatically. “The Bastai may hate catnip for what it symbolizes, but it’s not poisonous to them.”
Sahana set a paper with a chart full of bars and text on the table. She tapped one of the lines. “Normally, no. But this was no ordinary catnip. It appears to be a magical hybrid that I can’t find in any of the books.” She raised a finger in the air. “True that none of your vics died from this toxic-to-them catnip. The dose was way too low for that. However . . . ”
She let her voice trail off dramatically. Hooked, line and sinker, I bit. “What?”
“My theory is that all were drugged with this catnip to first weaken them so they could be overpowered; and second, break down their bodies’ normal abilities to regenerate upon death.”
My pulse picked up speed. “Wait. Are you saying that this catnip is not only some kind of Kitty Cat Kryptonite, it automatically takes them from ninety-nine lives to game over ? ”
“Well, I’d have to test it on a volunteer to be a hundred percent sure—but I don’t think anyone’s going to rush in for that case study.” We couldn’t help chuckling at that visual. “I was hoping you might see if Special Agent Cruz would be willing to donate some blood and tissue samples so I could compare how her samples respond to the catnip versus the samples from the corpses I’ve already tested. I don’t have any Cat friends myself or I would ask them.”
I jotted a reminder in my notebook. “No, Sahi, I’m sure she’d be happy to do that. And you’ve done great ! We’ve been stumped on how the perp put their lights out permanently without decapitation or incineration.”
Trinity nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, great work indeed. Although . . . ” She bit her lip and shot me a reluctant look.
Sheesh. Somebody always had to go and rain on my parade. “What?” I sounded much less eager to hear the conclusion to that dramatic pause.
“Well, if someone used the catnip to drug our vics, and the drug weakens Cats considerably . . . ” Ah hell. I really didn’t like where I suspected she was going with this. “Doesn’t that mean that a female could have pulled these murders off?”
Effectively doubling our already-sketchy list of suspects. Yeah, at least she hadn’t disappointed: I hated that conclusion every bit as much as expected.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IF SOMEONE BROUGHT MY IDEA OF HELL TO life and sent me there, it couldn’t have been worse than my debut as Sierra Nieves, Wedding Planner to the Stars and new transplant to Boston, Mass. My first mistake had been trusting Harper’s FBI associates to create my alter ego, which turned out to be even worse than my already-low expectations. She was, quite simply, a Diva with a capital D. Double D’s, actually—which I was reminded of every thirty seconds when one of Harper’s uncles let his gaze fall from my eyes to my overly ample assets.
Remember you’re playing a role, I chanted to myself in the middle of the expensive catering venue, where five dozen
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