“I didn’t. I modeled, but—”

“But now you see dead people, right?” I say dryly. “You’re too pretty to do this job. Go back to modeling.” I kneel next to the body, missing Beth right about now, who would be here if she wasn’t still in Paris, playing footsie with one of Kane’s men. He was protecting her when the Umbrella Man, Roger, targeted her. Now they’re just having fun. And I’m searching for the source of the blood.

DD, as I decide to call the supermodel medical examiner, kneels across from me and she’s still talking about all the wrong things. “Modeling was a college thing. It paid for my tuition. And you’re pretty too, you know? And from what I hear, I might see dead people, but you see killers, very, very clearly.”

My gaze lifts sharply to hers, with what feels like some sort of Society-driven insider information. As if she knows I’ve killed. They know I’ve killed. They sent my first kill to me. The man who raped me and meant to kill me, but Kane got back into town early. He saved me, pulled him off me. No. I saved me. I killed that monster. And then Kane buried the body or whatever he did with it. I open my mouth to ask her if Pocher placed her in my path, but bite back an attack. Sometimes I do like to play it smooth. “Don’t hit on me. I’m not into girls, but more power to you and all.” For me, that’s smooth.

She laughs nervously. I’m good at making people nervous. It works for me, especially if I think they’re linked to the Society. Nerves make people ramble. It makes them tell me things they don’t mean to tell me. “Neither am I,” she says, “but Jesus, you really are intense.”

I don’t comment. I’m back to looking for the source of the blood, which seems to be some sort of eruption in the woman’s throat. “Poison?” I glance at DD again. “Or an aneurysm in her neck?”

“I won’t know until I get her back to the lab, but I’ve never seen anything like this.” She waves a gloved finger above the rupture. “This doesn’t read like poison or an aneurysm doing this. It’s almost as if she had a sharp object explode from the inside out.”

My brows dip. “An explosion from the inside?” I glance at the water bottle and back to her. “Like she swallowed needles or something along that line?”

“A pin wouldn’t cause this kind of rupture. A razor would be too big to swallow. Like I said, I need to get back to the lab and see what I find.”

“When will you do the autopsy?”

“Friday.”