Breach of Peace (The Lawful Times #0.5)(3)

“You couldn’t have been far behind us,” Khlid said. “We’ve barely been here half an hour.” After going over her observations, she asked, “Any clue what could have been taken?”

“Soil knife, I would guess,” Samuel said. “Nobles are all taught to defend themselves with knives, even if they carry a gun. I don’t see a soil knife in here, and if I was going into a house with one or more murderers, I would want something I was familiar with. I believe it was the patriarch, Lord Pruit, himself who came here. Any of the young dead men inside would have already had a knife on them. The older man probably stopped carrying one, even a decorative one, ages ago.”

Khlid smiled. Damn, her man was good.

“How many dead inside?” Samuel asked.

Smits looked up from his notes. “The whole family, plus what appear to be two guests. Six in total, but the family was killed… differently.”

“How were the guests killed?” Khlid asked.

“Both killed in their sleep with knife wounds to the heart. Two young noblemen. Very efficient kills.” Smits paused. “Have you been inside yet, ma’am?”

The image of the boy swinging in the breeze invaded her mind.

Khlid swallowed before saying, “No. I only got as far as the foyer before I had to handle the staff.”

“So, you saw the… the daughter?” Smits’ face contorted at the memory. The girl, in her late teens, had been splayed across the foyer floor, extra steps taken to brutalize the body after death.

“Yes,” she said. “Any word from the medical team?”

“No, ma’am. And the entire family was handled in a similar fashion.” Smits' voice cracked. “The killers took their time. Only the guests died peacefully.”

Samuel cleared his throat. “Someone with a clear vendetta, then. First, kill whoever is in your way so you can take your time with the family.”

Khlid shook her head. “Disagree.”

“What have I missed?”

“More than one killer. The guests in bed. Each killed by a direct stab wound to the heart, but no disturbance? And those are the least involved kills. One person could do what was done to the boy, but the daughter? That requires more.”

The image of the teenager’s splayed rib cage danced in her mind. “Plus—a house full of victims and no escapees.”

Samuel cocked an eyebrow. “So, why not a vendetta?”

“I’m fine with the vendetta theory.” Khlid raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just not so sure it was aimed entirely at the family.”

Smits and Samuel exchanged looks. “Does that not look like an extremely personal attack on the family to you?”

“Yes and no.”

Smits spoke up. “I’ll bite, why?”

“Because you don’t leave a display like that for people who are dead.”

“Oh…” Samuel’s eyes drifted. “This was left for us.”

“It must have been,” Khlid agreed.

A stillness hung over them, the thrill of the puzzle overtaken by Khlid’s revelation.

She touched her husband's arm. “What are you thinking?”

Samuel remained still. He always did when mulling things over. “I think this is a rebel attack. Like what we’ve seen in the city.”

Color drained from Smits’ face. “You think it’s related to the attack on the market last year?”

Khlid answered, “What happened here was clearly meant to send a message. This will spread. No matter how hard we try and stamp out the rumors, eventually the people will know the royal class has been hit. Hit in an extreme way.”

Smits ran a hand through his blond hair, lost in thought.

This was going to be bad. Recently, several attacks had been made against the Empire, all to send one message: a powerful resistance still lived. They worked in the shadows, sowing doubt in the sanctity of the Empire. Explosives had been set off in crowded city streets. A shooter had walked into a market within the very capital, and with the help of unknown conspirators, massacred dozens. Last month, four priests of the Ministry of Faith had been lynched on their own land. This all fits the rebels’ bloody pattern.

“Smits,” Khlid said.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“When we get back to the precinct, I need a report on our theories. Mark your missive top priority and confidential, and send it to the Ministry of Defense.”

Smits nodded and turned toward the manor, but Samuel grabbed his arm. “No word of this to the other officers. Not until we know more.”

Smits hesitated, as if he took offense at the order. “Of course, sir.”

Samuel released him.

Khlid drew her husband's attention. “That wasn’t necessary. Smits knows to keep quiet.”

Samuel grimaced. “I just know how officers can fucking gossip.” He gestured towards Smits’ receding figure. “The new ones might as well grease their lips every morning.”

“Hey.” Khlid pulled Samuel’s chin towards her. “What’s gotten into you today? You love the fresh recruits. I’ve seen you put your reputation on the line to back even the freshest recruit’s theory.”

Samuel met her gaze with his black eyes, a rare genetic trait that accompanied equally dark hair that clashed with his pale skin in a stunning way. Wrinkles now creased his face, and his hair showed the slightest thinning at the edges. But Khlid loved that. Those lines were the fulfillment of his promise that they would grow old together. Besides, Khlid now sported a few wrinkles of her own.