Martia stood dumbstruck, scarcely daring to breathe, as she looked at the body. Hotchnisson had been his usual unpleasant self when she’d last seen him, but very much alive. The wound in his chest was still oozing blood, so the death must have occurred just recently.
A silly thought popped into her head: Had the person who killed the legate also taken the front staircase to keep the body from being discovered?
Too silly for words, perhaps, but it disturbed her. It also disturbed her that the missing staircase bothered her more than the death of this very unpleasant man who was her boss, even if she could scarcely tolerate him. What kind of a person did that make her?
Still staring at the body behind the desk, she took a step into the office...and nearly tripped over something on the flo
