“Yeah. I saw him with that tall injun guy. His name is Quinn.”
“And how do you know his name?”
“Well, he used to always pay for the room, and it was on his card. But he wasn’t much of a talker. I guess he was saving his mouth for other things.” Stevie chuckled at his own clever joke.
Jake resisted rolling his eyes. “I see. Did you ever see them fight, or did John ever say anything about Quinn being abusive or that he was scared of him for any reason? Anything you can remember, no matter how small, could help.”
“Nah. I don’t think that guy was using his mouth for talking neither.”
“Okay, Stevie. Here’s my card, and you call if anything else comes to mind, okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a date with a bottle.”
The scruffy guy shuffled away, leaving Jake and Maggie to go and take a look at the body. By this time, the window unit was off, and the flies were rampant in the room. A sickly sweet smell filled the air, and he sincerely hoped that Barry was hauling his ass out to the motel as quickly as possible.
The body was presumably exactly as it had been found. Stevie had sworn to the Sheriff he’d barely stepped into the room, let alone disturbed the body. It was dim inside—the only light was from the blazing sun pouring in about five feet into the room through the doorway. Jake tried the wall switch—after putting gloves on—but it didn’t work. He pulled out his flashlight, not advancing any farther inside to avoid contaminating the scene. Casting his flashlight beam about the room, it landed on the victim’s face. He started with a sudden jolt of adrenaline—John’s head looked more like a grisly Halloween prop than someone who had been vibrant and alive less than twenty-four hours before. A memory of John clutched at his heart.
About a year prior, Jake had picked up John on Main Street on the east side of Mesa. There were several low rent motels there, and it was easy to do a prostitution bust, especially in the summer and on weekend nights. Even though Mesa had swelled in population, and was considered part of the Phoenix sprawl, it was a solid family city, and the intention was to keep it that way.
Jake remembered the young man well. He was a stunning example of male hotness. Almost six feet tall, with longish blond hair and a tanned, built body, he looked like a surfer who had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and had found himself lost in the desert. His demeanour had been like that of a gentle giant, friendly and sweet, but maybe not the sharpest tool in the shed. Jake had tried counselling the man that night, had tried to reach him, but John had been tweaking on crystal, and it had been impossible to connect with him on any meaningful level. It was just so sad for Jake to see someone like that, and he always hoped that the work he did on the force would somehow break through and help at least a few people in a positive way.
They heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel, and turned to see Barry’s beat-up sedan pulling in. Jake had no idea why the forensics master insisted on driving the seventies Buick nightmare. He was always saying, ‘They don’t make ’em like this anymore’. It made him sound like an old man, but he was actually only in his mid-forties, a little thick around the middle and with prematurely white—but lush—hair. Still, he was just as grumpy as if he’d been a hundred and seven and denied a seat at bingo.
“Are you guys fucking up my crime scene? Get the hell out of there!”
“Nice to see you too,” said Maggie, completely unruffled by his growly manner. “We didn’t desecrate anything, your lordship. I promise you we know what we’re doing.”
Barry skidded to a stop and tried to hide a little smile forming at the corner of his lips. Jake imagined he didn’t dare have his reputation as an unmitigated bastard ruined.
“Oh yeah? Are you sure you young ‘uns have graduated from the Academy yet? Aah, never mind all that, what have we got?”
Maggie filled him in, whilst Jake began to look around the property. They had at least a good couple of hours light left, and he planned on scouring the entire area for tracks, dropped cigarette butts or anything else that might give him some clue as to who was perpetrating these killings. Over by the office door, he noticed what looked like a small crumpled piece of paper on the ground. Its orange hue had drawn his eye, so he picked it up and smoothed it out. It turned out to actually be a business card, and it looked as though it had been washed a few times—it was soft and faded.
Maybe it had been living in someone’s jeans for a while, got washed and then came out when a wallet or hand was pulled from a pocket.
Jake visualised everything when he was trying to piece together the puzzle of a crime, and he could imagine this exact scenario. But who had dropped it? He read the card. The front was the name of an establishment in Mesa he wasn’t familiar with. It was called the Lo-Fi Coffee House, and gave the impression of being a somewhat artsy place. Jake turned it over. It simply said, ‘Quinn. 8:00 Tuesday’. Had it belonged to John? There was no question that he had had some type of relationship with him. It didn’t seem likely it was Quinn’s, as it would be silly for him to write his own name on the card. Or did it belong to a third, yet unknown party?
It was time to go back and try to figure out how to corner his number one suspect—Quinn. Because as he stared at the room where John’s corpse lay, he realised something—the time between the murders was diminishing. If his calculations were correct, the next one would take place within a couple of weeks. They were going to need to get a lucky break in the case very soon.
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About the Author
I love all things book. I have a passion for creating stories—the more fantastic the better—and used to spend hours as a little girl drawing pages of pictures and then putting captions to them. I love reading and writing several different genres, but I recently put my more mainstream paranormal romances aside for naughtier tales.
I also enjoy music from Imogen Heap and Nine Inch Nails to Mozart, and love horror and sci-fi films from cheesy to terrifying. I must also confess that I am a huge LOTR (Lord of the Rings) geek.
I currently reside on the northern coast of Oregon, where the constant rain and fog reminds me of my visits to family in England and Scotland when I was a child.
Email: [email protected]
Morticia loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by Morticia Knight
A Spirit of Love
Uniform Encounters: Set Ablaze
Uniform Encounters: Arresting Behaviour
Uniform Encounters: Lust Emergency
Gin and Jazz: Hollywood Bound
Clandestine Classics: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
All Together Now: The Perfect Third
Totally Bound Publishing
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
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