Shock Treatment Read Online Free Page B

prop,” Brass reported. “All bark, no bite.”
    Catherine took a closer look at the chainsaw, wanting to quickly eliminate it as the murder weapon. A gloved finger gingerly touched one of the jagged teeth, which bent backward when she pressed on it. The teeth weren’t metal at all, she realized, just rubber painted metallic silver. Guess that explains why the carpet isn’t all chewed up. The harmless prop would have generated lots of noise and smoke, but no real danger. Not that any frightened “victim” was likely to notice.
    The CSIs gathered around the body, like mourners at a wake. Novak’s bloodshot eyes stared blankly at the ceiling; a thin film had already formed over the lifeless orbs. Catherine looked at David, curious to hear his conclusions. “David?”
    â€œCOD appears to be a single GSW to the chest.” He pointed at the hole in the wall she had noticed earlier. It was right by the door, about six inches to the left of where they had entered the office. “Possibly a through-and-through. Rigor and body temperature puts the time of death at approximately eleven p.m.”
    Brass nodded. “Which agrees with the initial reports from the witnesses.”
    That makes life easier, Catherine thought. Maybe this would prove to be a straightforward case of death by misadventure. She put herself in the place of the alleged shooter, suddenly finding herself face-to-face with a masked, chainsaw-wielding assailant. Catherine could see why she might have shot the actor in self-defense. Under the circumstances, I might have fired, too.
    â€œDo we have a weapon?”
    Brass produced a Smith & Wesson revolver, already sealed inside a plastic evidence bag. Catherine raised an eyebrow. “You doing our job for us now, Jim?”
    He shrugged apologetically. “One of the witnesses, a tech guy on the film crew, had already secured the gun before we arrived. He turned it over to the first officer on the scene.”
    Catherine frowned. She would have preferred to have collected the weapon herself from its original location, but she couldn’t blame the bystanders for not wanting to leave a loaded weapon lying around. Especially after what they had just witnessed. Maybe it won’t matter, she thought. From the sound of it, there was little question as to who pulled the trigger.
    â€œAnybody else touch the victim?” she asked. “Aside from David, that is?”
    â€œâ€™Fraid so,” Brass answered. “A couple of crew members tried to help Novak before he kicked the bucket. Took off his mask and everything.” He knew this wasn’t what Catherine wanted to hear. “Sorry.”
    It was starting to look like half of Las Vegas had handled the evidence before they’d got here. The chaotic scene, with the panicked film crew desperately trying to save the dying actor, explained the flurry of bloody footprints. She sighed in resignation, accepting the situation for what it was. This wouldn’t be the first time would-be Good Samaritans had messed up her crime scene.
    â€œBut here’s the good part,” Brass added. “We’ve got the entire thing on film.” He gestured around the room, pointing out the location of the various hidden cameras, including the TV screen, a small mirror, and a smoke detector on the ceiling. “From multiple angles, they tell me.”
    â€œOkay, that’s convenient.” She welcomed the windfall. Archie in the A/V lab had some work ahead of him. “I’m going to want every frame of that footage.”
    â€œWay ahead of you,” Brass said. “I’ve already told these folks not to erase a thing. We’ve got all the cameras locked down.”
    Catherine expected nothing less. “Great.”
    Taking possession of the gun, she turned her attention to the body. Flashbulbs strobed the office as Nick and Greg took numerous photos of the late Matt Novak. Shutters clicked