Alvarez noticed Wolfe’s arrival and broke away from the group of firefighters.
“Hey, Owen,” she said. “We have one vic down behind the counter. It’s Conner Lynch the owner. Happened, we think, about thirty minutes ago. Looks like a robbery where Lynch either resisted, or the suspect didn’t want to leave a witness.” Wolfe followed Alvarez around the counter. He squatted beside the body to look more closely at the dead man. Alvarez leaned in over him from behind.
The victim was white and looked to be mid-forties. He was on his back in a pool of blood, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. His lips were pulled back from his clenched teeth in a grimace. There was blood on his lips and chin. He had coughed up blood as he died. Blood soaked the front of his white pharmacist’s smock and Wolfe could see what looked like at least three stab wound entry points in his chest. His right leg was folded awkwardly beneath his other leg. He had obviously collapsed on the spot where he had been standing after being stabbed. Wolfe saw someone, maybe a paramedic, had already stepped in the blood on the floor. It annoyed him.
“No murder weapon,” Alvarez said. “The killer must have taken it with him. There is a blood smear there on the thigh of the victims’s slacks. Looks like the killer wiped the blade there before fleeing. He was also smart enough to pull the disc out of the recorder in back so we don’t have a recording from the security cameras.”
Wolfe nodded. He focused on the body and studied the scene quietly. He had known Lynch when he’d run into him on the street, but hadn’t been acquainted with him.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish