The Butterfly Murders

by Jen Talty

  His eyes rolled back and he dropped his hands. “Fine. But hurry up.”

  She didn’t waste any time removing his shirt. As he rose and lifted his undershirt over his head, she bent down and took one of his nipples in her mouth, toying with the other one.

  He hissed, grabbing her hand. “My turn.”

  “Nope.” She slid down to the floor, on her knees, and began undoing his belt.

  He sat up. “You do that, and it just might end there.”

  “I doubt it.” She pried the belt open, then the clasp on his trousers, before slowly and carefully tugging at the zipper, all the while looking up at him. His chest heaved up and down with labored breath.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s been two years.”

  “I’m sure you’ve done something to release the pressure.” She slid his slacks to his ankles then lifted the elastic on his boxers, releasing all of him.

  “Not… the… same…” he let out a guttural groan.

  Her body shivered at the sound. She took him in her hand, stroking softly, then licking the length of him.

  He fisted her hair and pulled her away as he gasped. “You can’t do that unless that’s all you want.” He looked at her with intent in his eyes. “It’s my turn now.”

  She stood. “Only if you do that one thing that I—”

  “That and more.” He yanked her to the bed, rolling her to her back. His mouth moved from one breast to the other, his hands working on her belt. He paused, raising his head, and caught her gaze. He held it for a long moment before kissing her tenderly. His lips barely brushed hers. His tongue soft and slow against hers. “You’re ready,” he whispered.

  All she could do was pant.

  He smiled, then planted kisses on her neck, down her breasts and stomach. His hands pulling her slacks and thong off at the same time. Part of her wanted to just have him inside her. Forget the foreplay. The other part remembered just how good that foreplay was.

  “That’s different.”

  She lifted her head and looked down. Shane had one hand on her stomach. The other on her thigh. “What?”

  “Last time I was down here you had a landing strip.” He traced his fingers down her stomach to just above the point that throbbed with intense heat. “Now, nothing.”

  “I don’t think you need the strip to find your way around.” She raised her one leg, resting it on his back. His breath hot on her body. He was worried about lasting? She figured the moment he touched her, her body would be quivering with delight.

  He took the other leg and dropped it over his shoulder, then fanned his thumb against her. Wetness poured out of her, ready to take all of him. She watched him gently part her as his tongue gently lapped at her. He inserted his fingers and pressed his tongue harder and faster. She arched her back, pulling his one hand to her breast. “Please,” she begged.

  But he continued to tease her. Stroking her insides slowly. His tongue intimately rolling over her throbbing nub. His fingers barely touching her nipple. Then he’d pick up the pace a little, bringing her so close, but not over the edge. “Yes,” she whispered as he stroked faster again. Sucked harder. His thumb and forefinger twisting and plucking at her nipple.

  Her body bucked and shivered. She clutched his head, squeezing her legs tight, trying to make him stop, but he continued. Her body convulsed in sheer ecstasy. “Shane.” She let her legs fall to the side. “I’m begging.”

  He slid his fingers out slowly, then kissed her intimately, making her throb again. He stood, reaching for his wallet. She watched him wrap himself with the condom. “Turn over,” he demanded.

  She smiled, rolling over to all fours, pressing herself against him. He leaned over, slamming himself into her, over and over. She arched her back, pushing against him as he reached around and rubbed his thumb against her again. “Oh, God,” she moaned as her body quivered, convulsing in a million spams as he continued to pound her. It wasn’t rough. But it was raw. Desperate.

  He groaned as he clutched her hips, holding himself deep inside for a long moment before he moved in and out, but this time slowly, until he collapsed on the bed, drawing her back to his chest and holding her tight while kissing her neck. Part of her was home. The other part was stuck in a place where the past didn’t exist and there was no future.

  They lay there for a long time, catching their breath. His knees tucked in behind hers. His arms completely wrapped around her body. She held his forearms with both hands, not wanting to ever let go again.

  “Are you cold?”

  “A little.”

  He adjusted himself, holding her with one arm, pulling the comforter over their bodies. His lips pressed against her earlobe. “I wish I could stay here all night with you.”

  “But you can’t,” she said. It was going to be hard to watch him walk out of this hotel room. To sleep in this bed alone after what they’d just shared.

  “I could if I let Theresa know.”

  “No.” She twisted her body, rolling to face him. “I wouldn’t feel right about taking time away from Kevin.”

  Something buzzed on the nightstand.

  “My phone,” he said. “Mind handing it to me? Just want to make sure it’s nothing important.”

  “You don’t have to stay here now.”

  “I want to stay,” he said. “Hoping I can regroup and act like a horny teenager who can do it more than once in an afternoon.”

  She laughed as she reached for his phone. “As I recall, you never had a problem with that.” When she handed him the cell, the screen lit up with a picture of Janet and their son.

  “Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll change it.” He took the phone from her hands, quickly tapping at the screen.

  “You don’t have to change it.” She snuggled into the crook of his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his strong body. “She was your wife. Kevin’s mother. You loved her…still love her.” Closing her eyes, she kissed his chest. “I’d think there was something wrong with you if you didn’t have pictures of her on your phone.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?” He ran a finger up and down her arm.

  “I’m not jealous of her or her memory,” she said. “I respect it.”

  “You used to be jealous.”

  She laughed. “No. You wanted me to be jealous. But I never had any reason to be. And I still don’t. I’m glad you were able to find someone like her to give you such a wonderful life and family. I know if she were still alive, we wouldn’t be in this bed.”

  He reached down, tucking his thumb under her chin and tilting her head. “You know what’s really weird?”

  “What?”

  “As odd as this conversation is,” he said, smiling, “I’m really glad I stopped this morning to buy condoms,” he said. “And not just one. I have more in my wallet.”

  She laughed. “Look in the nightstand drawer.”

  He reached over her and pulled the drawer open, looking inside. “Well, what do you know? A box of condoms.”

  “Last night on the way home.”

  “Great minds think alike,” he said, caressing her thigh as he kissed her shoulder. “I was so hoping when you invited me in that this is how we’d end up.”

  “I needed help carrying my portable file cabinet.”

  “Right.” He laughed. “So, that thing I stopped you from doing. I think I can handle it now.”

  Her heart fluttered. The ease she felt was like they’d never stopped loving each other.

  But he had. And it didn’t bother her.

  Chapter 15

  SHANE SPREAD OUT IMAGES from the three crime scenes on the conference room table, then on the far side of the table, he put images from the crime scene from Boston that Kara had brought to his attention. The victim was a twenty-five-year-old male who had gone to Boston College, then worked at a local marketing firm. He’d been born and raised in Rochester, a fact that was too close to all the other cases to be a coincidence.

  Across from the table w
ere two large corkboards filled with suspects, possible connections, timelines, and other information. Kara had used the whiteboard to draw a diagram of victims to persons of interest, but it all led them to no one in particular. He leaned on the table, putting his weight on his knuckles. His gaze went from Emily, bound with rope, gagged with duct tape. Face up. Her eyelids closed over empty sockets. Hair perfectly styled. Clothes folded neatly next to her. He compared that to the crime scene at Gregory’s apartment. Still difficult to see such a badly-decayed body. Shane wasn’t sure what was worse that, or a fourteen-year-old girl. Then he glanced at the case in Boston. His stomach churned looking at the young man with his gut sliced open and his intestines pulled out of his body.

  Shane turned his attention back to Gregory’s crime scene photos. The body was laid out on his belly. His wrists pulled overhead, held together with duct tape. Ankles crossed, also held together with duct tape. His clothes folded neatly next to his body.

  Shane shifted his gaze to Iris. The only real difference in the crime scene was the stained carpet. He glanced back to the case in Boston. The body propped up on the bed. Blood everywhere. Hands and feet tied with rope. There were no candles. But his clothes were folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. Shane leaned in to get a closer look.

  A light tap on the door jerked Shane from his thoughts.

  Captain Morrell leaned against the doorjamb. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “I told you I was when I agreed to be lead.”

  “You didn’t agree,” Morrell said. “You were assigned, and I didn’t really give you a choice.” Morrell was a good cop, but he was better at being a leader than in the field.

  “Then why ask me now?”

  “With everything that has happened—”

  “Are you worried I’m going to be distracted? Unable to do my job?”

  “I wouldn’t have given it to you if I thought that,” Morrell said. “But after everything we’ve been through over the years, I owed you a private conversation.”

  “I appreciate that. But I’m good to go. I’ve got full-time help and Kevin is in school.” Shane looked back down at his images. “You good with the team I put together?”

  “I approved it,” Morrell said. “I’ve got to head back to my office. Kara is prepping Cleary for the press conference.”

  “Is Cleary sober?”

  “Probably for the first time since his daughter was murdered. His hands are shaking. Not sure we really want to put him in front of a camera.”

  “Kara told me they’re going to give the press conference together.”

  “Almost rather the Feds do it alone. Kara is quite impressive.” Morrell pushed off from the doorjamb. “But, then again, it shows Cleary is backing all of us. On board. We need that in the eyes of the public.” With that, Morrell disappeared into the hallway and Shane scanned the images once more, slowly blinking once between photographs, hoping something would jump out at him.

  Shane heard more footsteps approaching. So much for spending some alone time with the victims.

  Pollack and Benster stood at the door. “Iris’s apartment was clean. No prints other than hers, her kid, and the kid’s father, whose alibis checks out.”

  “I figured,” Shane said. “What about the candles?”

  “They come from all over the place. We’ve got requests in to get batch numbers to see what stores,” Pollack said.

  “We’ve got the BrightLite candles narrowed down to two consultants in this area,” Benster added. “One in the city and the other consultant is in Fairport. We’re going to talk with them today.”

  “After that,” Pollack continued, “we’re going to head out and interview some of the soccer coaches and refs again. See what else we can dig up.”

  “Appreciate it,” Shane said. “I’m going to ask you the same thing Morrell just asked me.” Shane turned his head. Pollack stood in the doorway, while Benster leaned against the wall, both hands behind his back.

  “No need,” Benster said. “We know what being part of this task force means.”

  “Pollack? You good? You’ve got a wife and a couple of kids.”

  “My wife has only known me as cop. She’s got my back. I’ll make it up to the kids when I can.”

  “Alright,” Shane said. “But after you’re done with the two interviews, go home. Take a few hours with your family.”

  Pollack nodded.

  “I’m not married. Hell, I don’t even have a girlfriend,” Benster said. “I can come back.”

  “No,” Shane said. “We work in the same teams we’ve been working. Take a nap. Watch a movie. Get laid. We’re all going to need to take time to rest and release.”

  “Just call me if you need anything,” Benster said.

  “Will do.” Shane turned his focus back to the images as the two detectives headed down the hallway. Shane had arranged the images so the bodies were all exactly as they were at the scene. If the head pointed north, he placed the image that way. He studied every detail of each one, trying to match something to each scene. He even measured out the placement of the candles around the body. They weren’t exact, but they were close.

  For the Boston case, he used the notes filed from the detectives to arrange the photos, but there were more differences than similarities.

  The ticking of the clock on the wall taunted him. He didn’t look up. There was something in these images he was missing.

  The alarm on his phone was set for two different times. First was the press conference. Second was when his son would be getting out of school. Until then, he wanted only to focus on these four cases.

  He pressed his knuckles into the wooden conference table. He glanced between the first image of Emily and the corkboard across the room, checking the timeline, the connections to the other victims, and persons of interest.

  Still didn’t give him any insight.

  He decided to rearrange the images, putting the four victims at the top of the table. Below them the different images from the crime scenes, trying to match them this way. He did this for another forty-five minutes.

  He smelled Kara’s perfume before she walked into the room. He allowed himself a reprieve and glanced in her direction. Her hair flowed just over her shoulders. He was glad she hadn’t worn it up. It was a nice distraction for a moment. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He was rewarded with a smile, but it faded quickly.

  “How long have you been in here looking at those?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Going on two hours.” He let out a long sigh and then sat down, tapping on one of the images from the Boston case. “Can you make that out?”

  Kara lifted the image. “Looks like a tattoo.”

  “The report doesn’t mention a tattoo. I want to find out what that is.”

  “I can see if our tech can blow up the image, and I’ll call our Boston office.

  “Thanks.” He leaned back in his chair, taking in the beautiful woman leaning against the corner of the conference table. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  “Just talked to the M.E.”

  “And?”

  “Did you know that the medical school reported five cadavers missing?”

  “Yeah,” Shane said. “Months ago. I think they were found. Some stupid prank a bunch of pre-med students thought would be funny.”

  “Not all were recovered. We just found one.”

  “Where?”

  “Genesee River,” Kara said.

  “What does that have to do with our cases?”

  “The cadaver had new incisions; the medical school checked their records and this particular one was scheduled for a class at the university, so all of the organs should have been inside the cadaver.”

  “I take it this cadaver was missing organs.”

  Kara nodded. “All the ones that can be harvested.”

  Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. His pounding headache returned at full force. “So, you’re thinking our killer also has a thin
g for cadaver organs?”

  “I’m saying anything to do with organs could be connected,” she said. “Most serial killers perfect their kills over time. I’ve seen many where their first kills are so different from what they ended up with that we had no idea it was them.”

  “But why a cadaver?”

  “Profiler doesn’t think it has much to do with the person, but the organ, which brings me to weird item number two from the M.E.: Iris was strangled. But what’s really disturbing is that her liver was taken.”

  Shane had believed Iris had an organ removed, so this wasn’t shocking news. “We’ve got eyes, kidneys, and maybe a cadaver’s organs. What makes a liver more disturbing?”

  She handed Shane a folder. “Because she’d had a partial liver transplant eight months ago.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shane snagged the report and starting reading. “That’s two vics who had the same organ they received as a transplant removed.”

  “Make it three.”

  “Excuse me?” Shane looked up over the report. His eye twitched, along with his right thumb, itching to text his son, but he’d still be in school. In class. With his phone off.

  “I was just in with Cleary, going over the points of the press conference. He informed us that Emily had a cornea transplant in her right eye because of an accident. The transplant was less than a year ago.”

  “Way to bury the lead, Kara.” Shane slammed his fist on the table. “You should have started with that.”

  “I started with a chain of events,” she said calmly. “All important for different reasons.”

  “Whatever.” Shane’s mood didn’t improve with her calm voice. “I can’t believe Cleary is just telling us this now.” Shane stood quickly, dropping his chair to the floor with a loud thud. “His daughter is murdered, her eyes cut out of her head, and he doesn’t think to tell us about an eye transplant?”

  Kara lowered her chin, tilting her head, and raised one eyebrow. “He was certain, after that note, that Haughton killed his daughter in a drunken rage, and frankly so were we.”