Relaxing in understanding, I tucked it in my bag. “Yes, thank you,” I said, then touched his shoulder so he’d know it was okay. “Thank you very much.”

“Can we go in now?” Glenn grumbled, and Iceman gave me an embarrassed smile before returning to his desk, steps fast to make his open lab coat furl. Sighing, the FIB detective pushed open one of the double doors for me.

Actually, I was really glad to have the toe tag. It had been made with the intent for use and therefore was imbued with a strong connection that a ley line charm could use to target me. Better I have it than someone else. I’d get rid of it safely when I had the time.

Past the door was another, to make an airlock of sorts. The smell of dead things grew, and Jenks landed on my shoulder, standing right by my ear and the dab of perfume I’d put on earlier. “Spend a lot of time down here?” I asked Glenn as we entered the morgue proper.

“Fair amount.” He wasn’t looking at me, more interested in the numbers and index cards slid into the holders fastened to the people-size drawer doors. I was getting the creeps. I’d never been to the city morgue before, and I dubiously eyed the arrangement of comfortable chairs around a coffee table at the far end that looked like a reception area at a doctor’s office.

The room was long, having four rows of drawers on either side of the wide middle space. It was storage and self-repair only, no autopsies, necropsies, or assisted tissue repair. Humans on one side, Inderlanders on the other, though Ivy had told me they all had pull tabs inside in case of accidental misfiling.

I followed Glenn to midway down the Inderland side, watching him double-check the card against a slip of paper before unlocking the door and yanking it open. “Came in Monday,” he said over the sound of sliding metal as the tray slid out. “Iceman didn’t like the attention given to her, so he gave me a call.”

Monday. As in yesterday? “The full moon isn’t until next week,” I said, avoiding the sheet-draped body. “Isn’t that early for a Were suicide?”

I met his deep brown eyes, reading a sad understanding. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Not knowing what I would see, I looked down as Glenn folded the sheet back.

“Holy crap!” Jenks exclaimed. “Mr. Ray’s secretary?”

A sour expression fixed on me. When had being a secretary become a high-risk position? No way had Vanessa committed suicide. She wasn’t an alpha, but she was pretty damn close.

Glenn’s surprise turned to understanding. “That’s right,” his low voice rumbled. “You stole that fish from Mr. Ray’s office.”