He gives her shoulders a gentle squeeze at her words, and reluctantly lets his hands fall away from her. He draws in a breath and moves to kneel down beside the body, no emotion flickering over his face at the sight of the beautiful dead maid. He's a lot more used to dealing with things of the supernatural variety than the normal criminal variety, but he's dealt with that a couple of times, too. It's just not his specialty.
Stiles focuses momentarily on the knife sticking out of the woman's chest. He hesitantly reaches out and presses his fingers to her throat just in case -- even though he knows better because Lydia screamed and that definitely indicates death. He purses his lips and glances up at her.
"It just happened. She's still warm." And the blood isn't congealed yet.