I’d left the station in my own car, so I didn’t have crime scene forms or tape. I was improvising, standing in the doorway with a notebook. Mainly, I was working at not revisiting all the decisions I’d made over the last few days. They kept coming at me like a blurry nightmare. I’d been awake for over twenty hours. I desperately wanted another patrol car to come spell me. Given the complications of my connection with this case, I would have thought there would have been someone here by now.Instead of my relief, the next to arrive was Buchanan. He had a second detective in tow, an older guy I hadn’t met before. Buchanan looked at my notepaper crime scene form as if I’d personally insulted him, but he signed. The second guy signed as Nunez, and stayed while Buchanan went into the living room to get in CSI’s way.“You called it in as the same MO?” Nunez asked.“Yeah, from what I heard,” I said. “Throat torn up. Not as much blood as expected.”“Was the body moved here?”No.
