Murder by Design

by J. P. Bowie

  Sam sighed and his heart most definitely skittered against his ribs as he gazed into Justin’s eyes. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt the warmth of another man’s affection. Apart from Martin maybe, but he thought, with a wry twist to his lips, that Martin probably wouldn’t want to be with Sam where he was right now…in this man’s arms, with this man’s lips on his and the heat of their bodies an intoxicating arousal that Sam swore he had never in all his life experienced. For sure not with Daryl or the one or two other men he’d had an intimate moment with. No, this was different. Was it love? Or was that just a foolish fancy—a longing for something he’d never had?

  I love you… He wasn’t going to say the words, not yet. Those three little words might spoil everything, if Justin wasn’t ready to hear them. But nobody could stop him from thinking them, now could they? He’d say them at some point because he knew in his heart it was true…he was in love with Justin.

  “You are so lost in thought,” Justin murmured, caressing Sam’s face with his fingertips. “Am I coming on too strong?”

  “No, God no,” Sam said at once. “Has it been only two weeks…less maybe? I feel as if I’ve known you longer.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good. I feel like we’re so in sync, you know? In bed we fit so well and like now when we’re just talking, it’s easy…no awkward moments. Martin and me, we have the same kind of rapport. I didn’t think I’d ever find it with another man.”

  He tried without success to cover the yawn that came out of nowhere.

  “You’re tired.” Justin kissed his cheek. “Let’s go to bed.” He took the ice pack off Sam’s ribs and ran his hand gently over the bruise. “This time, sleeping together will mean just that.”

  * * * *

  Sam awoke to the delicious sensation of a slick warmth enveloping his cock. He moaned and ran a hand down his torso, encountering thick curls between his legs. Justin. He raised the sheet and revealed twinkling eyes and a mischievous smile. Justin held the base of Sam’s erection in his hand and swirled his tongue over the head, paying close attention to the slit, licking it over and over.

  “You devil.” Sam pulled him up until their faces were level then kissed him long and deep.

  “You were already hard when I woke up,” Justin said when at last they stopped to breathe. “It was poking me in the butt. So, I guess you’re all better?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. I slept good. Having you next to me all night is something I could get used to.” Oh, shit, my early morning brain is saying stuff it shouldn’t…awkward much? “Uh…”

  “Me, too.” Justin snuggled into Sam’s body and kissed his neck. “You going to work today?”

  And just like that the awkwardness was gone. “Yeah, lotta stuff going on. Reports to finish. Follow up on a couple of things. You?”

  “I don’t want to, but I started a project, and I’d like to complete it before she forces me out on one pretext or another.”

  “Silly woman. Doesn’t she know what she’s got in you?”

  Justin chuckled. “She knows, but she thinks she can do better. She’s most likely looking for a replacement even as we speak. But I don’t want to talk about the bitch when I have the hunkiest detective in all the world in my bed. “I’m not silly…” He trailed his lips down to Sam’s left nipple, licking and nipping at it while he coaxed Sam’s erection back to fullness with his hand.

  All right then…another hour or so won’t matter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Captain Hoskins was waiting for Sam when he entered the precinct later that morning. “’Morning, Sam. Come in and close the door.”

  “Morning, Captain.” Sam sat opposite Hoskins.

  “There was an incident last night in the parking lot of the Southland Hospital. It involved you and a gang of kids, one of whom was Detective Sanders’ nephew. How come you didn’t call it in?”

  Sam sighed. “I should have, of course, but I really didn’t want to add to Sanders’ problems. It’s the nephew that’s causing more trouble for him. They were wearing masks, so I didn’t know it was Kirby until I took it off him. How did you find out?”

  “Hospital security sent the CCTV recordings of the incident. Those kids were lucky you didn’t pull your gun on them.”

  “Yeah, I suppose there are worse things than a busted ankle. Sanders say how the kid’s doing?”

  “Not really. Sanders resigned this morning.”

  “Voluntarily?”

  “I suggested it might be his best move under the circumstances. He didn’t give me any argument.” Hoskins smiled wryly. “So, how are you? Looked like you took a hit to the back of your head and a couple of kicks to your ribs.”

  “Bruises mostly, but no concussion.” He didn’t think the captain would want to hear about Justin’s ministrations. “Honestly, I don’t know what those kids were thinking apart from getting some revenge for Kirby’s uncle. Kirby needs some psychological help in my opinion, but with Sanders as his hero, it’s unlikely he’d agree to it.”

  “Wish I could say he’ll be missed, but between you and me and no one else, he wasn’t a good cop. Way too much bias, which in our line of work can go against you real quick.” Hoskins paused to look beyond Sam through the glass behind him. “What would you say to partnering Mackie? Only until McCready comes back, of course. Mackie’s a good man.”

  Sam nodded. “Yes, he is, but you better ask him before I say yes. I have no problem with him, but I’ve found it expedient not to try and second-guess people.”

  “Good idea. I’ll talk to him when he gets here.”

  “What’s going on with Dwight Rothman?” Sam asked.

  “The deputy DA has the case. Once he’s satisfied we have enough to put Rothman away, he’ll ask for a trial date to be set. You’ll be called as a witness and the arresting officer, so don’t go planning any vacations.”

  Sam chuckled. “Damn, there goes my trip to Hawaii…again.” He said it with humor but couldn’t help but think it would be great if he and Justin could take a real trip, like to Hawaii or Cancun. “Anything else, Captain?”

  “No, that’ll do for the time being. You going to see McCready today?”

  “Oh yeah. I’d most likely get hate mail if I didn’t show up.”

  Hoskins grinned. “Well, tell him I said hi, won’t you?”

  “Will do, Captain.”

  * * * *

  Martin grinned when Sam entered his room. “Hey, kids, look who’s here.”

  Abe and Sara immediately ran to him and he knelt so he could take them into his arms.

  “Unca Sam, Daddy was shotted,” Sara told him solemnly after kissing his cheek several times. “Have you been shotted?”

  “No, honey, I’m happy to say I have never been shotted. Your daddy’s been very brave though, hasn’t he?”

  “Daddy’s always brave,” Abe said, puffing out his little chest.

  “That he is.” He winked at Martin. “And how is big brave daddy today?”

  “Smart a— I mean smart fella. I’m doin’ okay. What’s new?”

  “Well…” He looked at the kids, not wanting to say anything in their hearing, but they were intent on the games Liz had brought for them. “Last night after I left you, guess who was outside ready to clobber me?”

  “What? I mean, who?”

  “Your buddy, Kirby grip. He and three or four of his fairweather friends jumped me. Only got one real hit ’cause they snuck up on me, got me on the back of the head. Poor Kirby came out of it badly and his friends skedaddled, leaving him with me. I mean, what kind of friends would do that?”

  Martin scowled. “Sanders put them up to it?”

  “Don’t think so. More like a vendetta against the fag cop. Sanders resigned, by the way.”

  “And a good riddance was said by all who knew him.” Martin shook his head. “Takes all kinds, I guess.”

  Sam looked around as Liz breezed in, carrying a tray with cups on it. “Hi
, Sam. How’s Justin?”

  “He’s good, Liz.” Sam chuckled.

  “You should be askin’ Sam how he is,” Martin said, frowning at his wife.

  “He looks fine to me, but then he always does.”

  “He was mugged last night outside the hospital.”

  “What?” Liz paused in the act of handing the kids their cups and Abe stamped his foot impatiently. “Abe! Don’t you dare do that again, y’hear me? What happened, Sam?”

  “Just a bunch of kids on a hate-the-cops spree,” Sam told her. “No damage done, at least not to me.”

  Sara tugged on Sam’s sleeve. “Who’s Justin?”

  Sam laughed and picked her up for a kiss. “He’s a friend of mine. You’ll like him.”

  “Bring him to see Daddy.”

  “I might do that.”

  “He the one makes you all goofy lookin’?” Martin asked, grinning.

  “That’s the one.” He looked down as Abe crowded in against his legs, his game forgotten. “Why don’t I take you guys to visit the garden outside? There’s swings and things, and Mommy and Daddy can have time to talk about stuff.”

  “Yay!” Abe jumped up and down and Liz mouthed ‘Thank you’ as they headed for the door.

  “See you later,” Sam called. “Don’t do anything I would.”

  “God forbid,” Martin said, laughing.

  * * * *

  Justin was more than a little annoyed with Maria Esteban. Once again she’d been over-critical of some of his designs, saying they weren’t imaginative enough, but this time she’d demanded he work on them until she was satisfied with the result.

  “What a bitch,” he muttered, glancing at his watch. He and Sam had texted earlier, Sam wanting to know what time he thought he’d be through so they could plan their evening, and Justin having to give him the bad news that he was working late.

  Around seven he took a break to stretch and relieve his butt, which was aching from sitting too long. He wandered down the hall to the coffee machine. It looked as if he was the only one left on the floor. All the workplaces were in darkness, the only light apart from the kitchen and his office being Maria’s.

  Shit, she’s hanging on till I’ve got something to show her…the cow.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed a leftover donut from the morning’s supply and went to sit at one of the tables in the breakroom. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the sewing machines and the chatter of the seamstresses. He walked over to the television set and switched it on, changing the channel rapidly from Fox News to MSNBC. He was not in the mood for right-wing propaganda tonight.

  He went back to the table and munched on the donut, which was still surprisingly fresh. Over a commentary by Steve Kornacki he was suddenly aware of other voices…loud, angry voices coming from down the hall. He sighed. Maria. It seemed she was always angry at something or someone. Was she on the phone? No, there were two voices, one was a man’s.

  Maria’s voice screeched loud enough to drown out a Boeing 747 engine at maximum thrust. Jesus, girl, you’ll have no voice in the morning…if we’re lucky. It sounded like she was totally out of control and the man, whoever it was, had stopped shouting. Most likely he’s had it with her. Sighing, Justin took his mug over to the sink to rinse it out then turned off the TV.

  After all that screaming and shouting, the silence had returned to its peculiar eeriness. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of a door slamming. He walked out into the hall and saw a tall man hurrying away from Maria’s office door. He was surprised that there was no high-pitched Hispanic invective coming from behind the door, nor was it swung open to reveal a fuming Maria stomping into the hall.

  Hmm…not like her to let it go that easily. Maybe he should go check on her, although if she started in on him he might get mad enough to storm out. At least then he could text Sam, I’m free! He hesitated outside her door. No sound of the heavy breathing or sobbing Maria was prone to when in a temper.

  “Maria? It’s Justin. Are you okay?” There was no reply so he pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Maria?”

  She was lying on the floor in front of her desk. Her lifeless eyes stared up at him from a discolored and bloated face. Justin stepped back in horror. He had never seen a dead body before, but there was no doubt in his mind that Maria was gone, and by the looks of it strangled by the brightly colored scarf around her neck. Frowning, he recognized it to be one of his designs. Should he loosen it? Was there still a chance she’d recover? He knelt by her body and gingerly untied the scarf from around her neck, but there was no responsive breath.

  “Oh, my God.” The guy he’d seen leaving must’ve killed her. Who the hell could it have been? He stood and pulled his cell out of his pocket and punched in Sam’s number. He almost sobbed with relief when he heard Sam’s deep voice.

  “Hey, Justin. What’s up?”

  “Sam! Thank God you’re there. It’s Maria, my boss, someone’s strangled her, Sam. I saw a guy leaving her office and I don’t know why but I went to check on her. They’d been screaming at each other so I guess I was kinda worried…and she’s dead, Sam. What should I do?”

  “Okay, stay calm. I know that’ll be hard but try to just keep it together until I get there, and don’t touch anything.”

  “All right, but please hurry.”

  “I will, babe. I’ll be there for you in a few minutes.”

  Sam cursed, called the precinct and asked for the officer on duty. He was directed to Captain Thomason.

  “Hey, Captain, Sam Walker. Reporting a homicide. I’m on my way over to the Arlton Building downtown. Esteban Fashions. One of the employees found Maria Esteban, the owner, strangled in her office.”

  “The employee called you personally?”

  “Yeah, he’s a friend of mine.”

  “His name?”

  “Justin Robertson.”

  “Okay, Sam, I’ll have Detectives Jones and Harrison meet you over there along with the guys from the coroner’s office. Tell your friend to be sure not to touch anything.”

  “I did.”

  “Okay. Report to me when you’re done.”

  “Will do.”

  The building doors were locked when Sam got there. A lot of pounding on the glass and showing his badge eventually got him access from a sleepy-eyed security guard.

  “What floor for Esteban Fashions?”

  “Five. What’s going on?”

  “There will be more cops here in a few minutes. Let them know which floor.” He sprinted for the elevator. Justin was waiting in the hall when Sam exited the elevator. He rushed into Sam’s arms.

  “Oh my God, Sam, I’m so glad you’re here.” He clung to Sam while they walked toward Maria Esteban’s office. “I kept thinking the murderer might come back.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “No, I don’t think so. All I saw was the back of him as he ran from her office.”

  “Okay.” He paused at the open door. “Stay here while I check out the scene.” Justin nodded and Sam walked into the room with careful steps. He would have to wait until Jones and Harrison arrived before making a full investigation, but he could on his own ascertain that the victim was indeed dead and the cause of death if visible.

  He knelt by the woman’s body and felt for a pulse. There was none. From the look of the corpse’s face she had been strangled by the scarf around her neck, but it wasn’t pulled tight.

  Strange…Uh-oh… He looked over his shoulder to where Justin stood in the doorway. “Did you touch this scarf?”

  “Yes, I thought maybe if I loosened it she might be able to breathe.”

  Damn. He stood and looked around the office. It was obvious she had struggled. Whatever had been on top of her desk was scattered across the floor. He turned around as Al Jones and Bob Harrison entered the office.

  “So what we got?” Jones asked.

  “Victim is Maria Esteban, owner of Esteban Fashions,” Sam told him. “She’s been stran
gled.”

  “Put up quite a fight,” Harrison said, eyeing the debris on the carpet.

  Jones quirked an eyebrow. “And the guy in the hall?”

  “Justin Robertson, employed here. He heard an argument, saw a man leaving the office and came to check on Mrs. Esteban. He found her like this and called me.”

  “Called you personally.”

  “Right. He’s a friend of mine. I already told the captain that.”

  “Okay.” Jones knelt by the body. “Strangled without a doubt, but the scarf’s not tight enough to kill her.”

  “Uh, Justin loosened it, thinking she might start breathing again.”

  “So his prints are on it. Shit.”

  “Most likely several sets if it was manufactured here.”

  Jones stood as more men and women poured into the office. The coroner and forensics got to work and the detectives left them to it.

  “We need a statement from your friend,” Jones said.

  Sam bridled. “Al, there is no need to emphasize the word. Don’t you do a fucking Sanders on me or I will file a complaint this time. I’m sick and tired of the bullshit that’s flung around the department. Okay?”

  “Take it easy, Sam.” Harrison put a calming hand on his arm and threw Jones a dirty look at the same time.

  “Well, I’m sure Sam knows the protocol,” Jones sneered. “The witness, or perhaps suspect…we still have to determine which…is a close friend of Detective Walker’s, so he can’t be a part of this case.”

  Harrison rolled his eyes. “Al, for Pete’s sake…”

  “No,” Sam said. “He’s right, Bob. But I will sit in while you take his statement. Just to make sure it’s conducted properly, Al.”

  “What?” Jones’ face darkened.

  “You heard me.” He turned to Justin who was staring at him with wide eyes. “Justin, this is Detective Jones and Detective Harrison. They’d like to take an official statement from you.”