All she could do was draw in a breath. Deaths in the line of duty were expected. Random deaths not so much. Actually, the idea of someone in Special Ops dying of natural causes or some accident just didn't compute at all. They were trained killers, all of them. Masters of their respective fields. In peak physical condition according to the doctor's records, so that made any death without an obvious answer immediately suspect.
The first question was of course how, but Pyro answered that for her without the question needing to be asked. Storm let her breath out in a sigh. She was going to have to get up and see about things. The authorities were going to have to placated. The investigation cut off before they could get into it too deeply. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a pissing match with Capital authorities over who had jurisdiction. Technically, the military had no control over civilian affairs. It was the kind of thing that made her want to take up smoking or something else physically harmful in order to hasten her impending demise.
"Don't get involved, John. When the police come, give them no reason to question you or look at you twice." She didn't need to give him that kind of a warning, but she did it anyway. Ororo didn't bother to fight her mothering instinct, not even when it came to grown men who certainly knew their way around dead bodies and police investigations.
Jamie falling off a roof seemed absolutely impossible. Him being pushed was a possibility, but it would have to be by someone who had a chance of actually catching the bastard. That didn't leave many people who would be capable. More and more that made things seem like suspicious circumstances. She needed to call Dr. Milbury and get him to do the autopsy on that body.