Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues (White Trash Zombie 2)

Nick was grossed out by tofu, but not at the fact that I was eating my dinner not twenty feet from a cooler full of dead bodies.

I grinned and continued on. We’re all monsters here.

Chapter 10

It was tempting to sit back and consider Dr. Leblanc’s words to me and daydream about doing more with my life, but right now finding out about the stolen body was a shitload more important. As dorky as it sounded, my fucking honor was at stake, and unless I got this shit figured out I was going to have a helluva hard time having any sort of decent future.

Therefore, I headed straight for the investigator’s office. Derrel was there, painstakingly pecking out a report on the computer. He gave me an absent-minded wave with barely a glance up from the screen.

“Angel, why can’t you be more like Nick?” Derrel said with a black scowl.

I could only stare at him for several breaths before I found my voice. “Wh-what? Why do you say that?”

He gave a hmmphing sound. “Because Nick is a godawful fast typist, and Allen has managed to convince the little shit that if he types up all of Allen’s reports it’ll improve his chances of getting a promotion.” He lifted his head and grinned at me.

I returned the grin with relief. “Well, I can’t type, but I can be more of a suck-up if you want.”

Derrel shuddered. “No, please don’t change a damn thing. I’ve already had to fight off a hostile takeover from Monica.”

“A what?”

“Monica wanted to change the shifts so that she was paired with you. I told her to back the hell off. You’re stuck with me, chick.”

I plopped into a chair. “I’m glad to know you love me so much. Now I need you to prove your love by helping me out with something.”

Derrel clicked on something on his screen, then gave me his full attention. “You want to know everything there is to know about the victim from the lab.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Nah. I just know how I’d feel if someone pulled that shit on me.” He gave a rude snort, shook his head. “Frat prank? I don’t know about that.”

“It wasn’t a frat prank,” I said. “Derrel, that was no college punk. I know the cops have no reason to believe me, but I’m not making this up.”

“I don’t believe for one second that you’re making any of this up.”

“I know, and you have no idea how much that means to me,” I said earnestly. “Here’s what I was thinking: The dude who wrote that damn article was getting off on how horrible it was for the family when the remains of their loved ones weren’t cared for and guarded properly. But…has the next of kin for poor Mr. Norman Kearny shown up?”

He leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head. “Y’know, funny thing, that. I’ve been trying to track them down, and it’s looking more and more like Mr. Kearny didn’t have any. Next of kin, that is. Widower, no kids as far as I can tell. Not a peep from any of his coworkers, either.”

“There’s something weird about this whole thing,” I insisted. “There has to be a reason that asshole stole that body.”

“I’m with you, Angel, but I don’t think there’s much doubt that this victim was simply a security guard who tripped on some stairs. I have all of the background checks and info that the lab had on file, and it all says that this guy really was Norman Kearny.”

“Well, what if the personnel file was tampered with?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You don’t think that’s veering hard into conspiracy-theory territory?”

I made a sour face. “I know how it sounds, but I think that there has to be some sort of thing going on for it to be worth holding me up at gunpoint to steal the body.”

Derrel grimaced. “True. Unfortunately I have no idea how we could find out if the personnel file was altered. If we still had the body we could run the prints or check dental records, but…” He spread his hands and shrugged.

I sat up straight. “Derrel, I’m fucking brilliant.”

He gave me an amused smile. “Well, I’ve known that for a while, but what makes you think so?”

“I put his watch in the property safe,” I said with a grin. “We can have that fingerprinted.”

He nodded slowly, an approving gleam in his eye. “That could work, since we don’t have the actual body to verify the prints.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. Two p.m. “I have court in half an hour, but I’ll talk to the folks in Investigations in the morning.”