“Pig’s blood,” I say matter-of-factly. “That’s not confirmed, but it’s going to be pig’s blood. I know it.”

He doesn’t freak out but then I don’t expect anything but calm, thoughtful contemplation from Kane. He doesn’t even ask why I make that assessment. He simply asks, “Is this Pocher or a Roger protégé?”

Just that easily he’s already in my headspace. And the question spoken at just the right time grounds me in logic rather than the emotion that had me storming out of Emma’s kitchen ready to kill Pocher.

“Logically,” I say, “the dress and the jar could point to either. Of course, my first reaction was Pocher. We just found out he came back. And when I saw that dead woman and then saw the jar of blood, I was ready to kill him.”

“Andrew influenced that. He already believed it was Pocher when he called you to the scene.”

“True. And it could be Pocher.”

“But your gut isn’t reading it that way. I can tell.”

I sip my coffee and add, “With the dress, and without the jar of blood, this would have read like a classic jealousy crime. The groom was already neglecting the bride and she had a side dude. And yet, it wasn’t a crime of rage. We’re not even sure how the woman died.”

“Meaning what?”

“She seemed to have a rupture from her throat, but there was no obvious cut.”

“Poison?” he asks.

“The new medical examiner doesn’t think so.” My cellphone rings with Lucas’s number where it still lays between me and Kane. His jaw clenches.

“I called him to hack for me, and he’s coming to dinner. And before you scowl, he was going to be alone, Kane.”

He downs his coffee, every last drop, and stands up, his spine stiff. Fuck. I answer the call on speaker. It’s better that way, with Kane’s ear where my ears are right now. “Lucas,” I say, and I don’t warn him that Kane is in the room. If he’s not smart enough to figure that out, he deserves whatever he gets. “What do you have for me?”

“I pulled Danica and North’s records. I’m sending them in a secure file by maildrop for you to accept. But there’s nothing exceptional there to see. And before you bitch, I’m digging deeper, but that will take time.”

“What about the victim and the men in her life?”

“Both her dead husband and her fiancé have donated to various Pocher-driven campaigns. That was easy to pull. Her fiancé has actually donated to your father’s campaign. But Lilah, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone in this town who hasn’t pandered to Pocher’s power. And that’s all I have now. I’m drunk. I’m still drinking. No more updates tonight.”

“Yes, but—”