"In a town like this, I expect even the demons know that an unexplained disappearance is an unexplained death. They may be able to track you by your arrows, I suppose, if they get their hands on the right magic somehow or other."
Bella solves that problem by collecting the bolts. She wipes them off on the nearest patch of grass to the point where she's willing to have them in her messenger bag, and stows them.
"That should be all right," he says critically, casting a final glance over the bodies. (The night he dug a bullet out of his shoulder, he also got a new coat. This one has come this far without getting bloodstained.)
"Okay." Bella skips crossing the rest of this block; she doesn't want to be observed nonchalantly wandering around in easy view of a pair of corpses. She turns the corner and starts working her way down Santa Clara Avenue. "...Thanks," she adds. "Thanks a lot."
"All in a night's work. I'll just go back to being unobtrusive again, shall I?"
She checks on the demons again, on her way home.
The bodies are gone.
"It is. There was a window of -" She looks at her watch. "About an hour. Do you happen to know what kind or kinds they were? Do those just disappear or dissolve or get assumed into another dimension on death?"
"There are so preposterously many..." she mutters. She doesn't go down that block; she keeps going and takes the next left instead.
Bella gets the rest of the way home without incident. Before approaching near enough to turn the lights on, she says - "Thanks again, Sherlock. I am - really not convinced I would've been able to beat them alone."
If he is running some kind of con she is at a complete loss for what it could be, unless he's particularly fascinated by getting victims to deliver themselves into his hands with full knowledge of his species and he likes difficult targets.
Just a few more days and then she can let herself act like she believes what she's already pretty thoroughly convinced of.