Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

in the body and sure as hell not in the asshole who had committed this atrocity. If this crime was what it looked like on the surface, then this kid had done nothing except be who he was and some sick prick had robbed him of everything in the most vicious way possible. I'd have to wait for the ID.
    "Seen enough?" The raspy voice scraped over me, course and gritty as sandpaper. He probably had years of scotch and cigars scoring his vocal chords. Everything else about Travis Boudreaux was smooth. He was six feet, one hundred and ninety pounds of GQ perfection. This morning he wore a charcoal gray suit with just a hint of pinstripe and a stark white shirt. His tie was a rough jade green silk, knotted in a full Windsor. Yeah, I noticed things like that. He was clean-shaven, his dark hair perfectly trimmed, and even in the cold antiseptic smelling morgue, there was a trace of bay lime from his aftershave. Bastard.
    I palmed the top of my head, feeling the slight bristle against my palm. I was grungy and ripe with the scent of eau de stakeout. Lieutenant Maxine Dupree had called me herself to tell me to report to the morgue as soon as Walters showed up to relieve me. Apparently, I was going to be number seven on the list of Detective Travis Boudreaux's partners. He'd made it no secret that he preferred to work alone.
    "I've seen enough," I said.
    "Good. The ME is waiting on us." He turned on his leather-shod heel and strode from the room, leaving me flat footed. I took one last long look at the body. "I've got you, now," I said. It was the same promise I made all of them.
    ****
    "The written report contains everything I can tell you for certain, right now," Dr. Mejeda said. "The photographs need to get to forensics, but based on the number and types of injuries, I'd say there were three people involved in the beating and torture. From the volume of semen in his stomach, the injuries to his mouth and esophagus, and the anal tearing, all three were also involved in the sexual assault. The lab reports will take a couple of weeks for the DNA, but we'll get it all sorted."
    "The victim was raped and tortured shortly before his death. Preliminary cause of death is internal bleeding from injuries sustained from being beaten. There appear to have been at least two weapons, probably a baseball bat and a narrower cylindrical object… like a steel pipe. I can identify three distinct shoe treads in the bruising. Jerome Gorman didn't die easy."
    The name hit me with the force of a blow, and I swear I staggered even though I was leaning against the doorway of the too-small office. I blinked rapidly, trying to reconcile that unidentifiable mass on the table with the Jerome I knew and had just seen two nights before. The body had been that of a light-skinned black man or maybe mixed race, like me, but that was about all I'd been able to tell. I flipped back through the report to the physical description. Five ten, shaved head, brown eyes, a small scar on the top lip. Identification determined through fingerprints.
    Apparently unaware of my turmoil, Mejeda looked at Travis. "This is consistent with the beatings from Baton Rouge and Denham Springs from ten years ago. As you suggested, Detective Boudreaux, I also looked at the medical records of the John Doe currently in ICU at the Tulane Medical Center. I spoke with his primary physician. The beating and rape is consistent with his injuries. He's not shown any signs of consciousness in over two weeks. There is still some brain activity, but that's about all that's giving them any hope at the moment."
    "You were correct on the other two beating victims, as well. You're the detective, but everything I'm seeing confirms your theory that this is a serial crime. Given that the last victim died and the one before him is not likely to recover, I would say this pack of jackals, as you called them, is escalating. I'd say the leader of this little group is devolving."
    ****
    I ran the electric shaver over my head and jaw until they were smooth, then stepped into the steamy stall and let the shower beat life back into my tired body. Travis and I had yet to talk about the case. I'd stalled him with a raised hand when we'd gotten into his car, and said I wasn't going to be ready to talk until I'd gotten clean. Bonus points for him, he hadn't said a word, just pulled up in front of the station and let me out.
    I ran the soap over my body, gave an experimental tug on my dick, and shrugged at the tired