Page 23

TWENTY-THREE

Liam

I feel like I’m on cloud nine. Even Michaels’ face can’t knock me down. Matthew’s pestering bounces right off me. There is literally nothing that can get me down. I survive an entire day with these lesser humans without a single thing annoying me.

Even going down to Jesse’s office doesn’t make me hesitate.

“Jesse, I have arrived,” I announce. “And today, I will not allow your irritating face to dampen my mood.”

“You act like I give a shit,” he says.

The lady who works with him scowls at his colorful language. Sadly, I came down alone since Gabriel is upstairs dealing with Michaels who wanted something that I didn’t care about at all.

“How’s it going down here surrounded by the dead?” I ask, especially eyeing the woman who’s glowering at me.

“Weirdly better company than you.”

“Did you forget that you’re the one who called me down here? On no day would I willingly choose to come down here to be with you.”

“I meant that message for Gabriel. Didn’t you see how I put: ‘Gabriel and Liam but hopefully just Gabriel. Please, I’m begging you, only send Gabriel’?”

“I read that as you being shy and secretly wanting me.”

“Shy? Excuse me? What reason do I have to be shy around you?”

I watch the annoying man and question where I’ve gone wrong that I can’t bully him into being like the rest of the people who interact with me. “Just looking at you makes me want to call you Jerard again,” I say.

“So did you really know my name all that time and just pretended you didn’t? I mean… the more I get to know you, the more I realize that you are semi-intelligent. I’m now convinced you knew my name but refused to use it.”

“Semi-intelligent? I probably know more about you than you know about yourself. I know that you’ve been fretting over your indecent thoughts of Matthew by chewing on your fingernails. I would also rather chew my nails off than be with Matthew.”

Jesse quickly hides his fingernails. “Just… it’s… no.”

“No? There’s a whole new world out there for you to explore, and as long as you don’t whip that spider of yours out, I think Matthew is more than prepared to explore it with you.”

“I do not… need relationship advice from a man who buys someone a house for their one-month anniversary.”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not… but… I…” He sighs. “Let’s focus on work. I have two things for you. A new John Doe that was brought in earlier and some information on that tattoo.”

“Oh?”

“Which do you want to see first?”

“John Doe.”

He leads me over to a body of a man lying out on a table. Jesse’s clearly already performed the autopsy, but there’s always the chance for more to find. I pull on some gloves and walk around the body as I try to see if anything stands out.

“He matches both Jane Doe and Liz Marsh,” I say.

“Does he?” Jesse asks as he examines him. “Different race, different gender, different eye color than Jane Doe.”

I stare at the body. “Not like that.”

“I know… I get what you’re saying. The clothes he was wearing were expensive, and he also looks like he takes great care with his appearance like they did. The connections aren’t as close as one would suspect, but there’s something similar about him.”

“How long has he been dead? Not long, right?”

“Four hours before we got him.”

I tap my finger on the edge of the table while I think. “The killer’s not too worried about hiding the bodies. Almost like they want us to find them. Or maybe not us, exactly… they want others to see their work. They’re like pieces of art to them.”

“Why do you say that?” Jesse asks.

“I stated it at Cameron’s farm, but since you weren’t there and don’t seem to be skilled enough to decipher it yourself, I’ll repeat it. I believe Cameron was supplying someone with these people.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t chastising me for not having the ability to read minds and ask what makes you think that?”

“I have a theory that some of the people didn’t fit the bill, so he was trying to dispose of them, like Jane Doe. But I believe that whatever is happening is being documented in some way, seeing as there was something on Cameron’s computer that his wife was trying to dispose of.”

“So she knew?”

“Seems like it.”

“That’s unusual.”

“Unusual, but not unheard of,” I say. Hell, Gabriel knows about my ways. “So… we have an injection site, looks like into a vein… they’re not hiding this one… are they killing people in different ways? No track marks… an injection of a drug to kill him? Seems… off course.” I move around and examine the back of his head. “The impact looks like it’s from a fall. Without flipping him over to see if he has any other bruising, do you feel like it was a fall?”

“Seemed to be.”

“His hands are red… but the sides of his hands… beating on something? Possibly a door?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“So he’s beating on a door… falls… someone could have pushed him, I suppose. But he doesn’t seem to have tried to catch himself, does he? I think it was a fall.”

“Are you sure?” Jesse asks.

“I’m always sure.”

“How? The bruising from a fall versus someone being shoved can appear different, but not always.”

I don’t know how to explain why my brain just assumes things one way even if there were other ways the same incident could have occurred. “It’s just what my mind is telling me. So what else do you have? We have many things that could have been injected in him. Drugs are likely, but you could also inject something like air into the vein.”

“So you’re talking venous air embolism… air in the vein which causes a cardiovascular system blockage… that’s what you think?” Jesse’s eyebrows lift up in surprise.

“I’m not leaning one way or the other just yet, but I noticed that he also has scratches on his chest, which could be in line with chest pain. But that could be drugs too. There are plenty of drugs that cause the heart to race or pain in the chest…”

“He also bit his tongue,” Jesse says as he shows me.

“That could be a sign of a seizure… again, could be a symptom of either… you already did the autopsy, you couldn’t find anything that stands out? Are you waiting for toxicology?”

“I saw that he died from venous air embolism, which I identified when examining his heart.”

I stare at him. “Why did you ask me if you already knew?”

“Because I like seeing how you see things,” he says with a grin. “How did that even come up? What made you think that?”

“Because… if it is the same killer, I don’t see them using drugs to kill him. It’s… not right for the situation. What’s fun or unique about shooting someone full of enough heroin to kill them?”

“This is fun?” Jesse asks, unsure.

“Obviously for them, it is. It’s the thrill of it. They’re hunting, but they’re not a person who could hunt the same way every single time. It’s an art form to them. Something worth recording. Something to view. That’s why we have videos or something to remember the deaths somewhere. Things were removed from Mitch’s house. The laptop was destroyed in Cameron’s.”

“You think they’re the same person? The one who killed Jane Doe and John Doe and the one who killed Cameron and Steven is the same killer?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know their tie. One of them is doing it for the enjoyment of it. The other is…” Is what? Are they like Cameron and working for the killer? Did Cameron fuck up, so the killer sent someone to dispose of him? Or is the person who shot at me someone else entirely?

“So Steven, who had his eyes cut out, doesn’t match the profile,” Jesse says.

“No, but neither did Abby’s friend Mitch who was also killed. He falls more in line with Steven and Cameron than John Doe, Liz, and Jane Doe.”

“I see what you’re saying.” Jesse heads over to his desk. “Anyway, by referencing your beautiful artwork of the tattoo, I did find something interesting. Well… actually, I didn’t find it, but Marge did.”

“Isn’t Marge the one who died of old age?” I ask.

Jesse raises an eyebrow before giving a nod to the old lady in the corner. “No, she’s right there.”

“Oh shit, didn’t we sign an RIP card for a Marge not that long ago?” I ask.

“I’m pretty sure that was a get-well card.”

“Oh…” I grimace. “No wonder she glowers at me every time I enter the room.”

“Anyway, she said she remembered a couple of girls coming in with this tattoo years ago. It was the only thing that linked them, but the one died of intoxication and the other was a suicide.” He slides some photographs over to me and I pick them up. “Is this the tattoo that was originally on Abby?”

“Sure as shit is,” I say, recognizing it immediately. “Fascinating. How long ago were these pictures taken?”

“I think it said around twenty years ago? I can give you the file to look over. One was named Margaret and the other was Zoe.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah? What’s so interesting?”

“Huh.”

“Come on, man. Spill.”

“You’re unworthy,” I decide.

“See if I show you shit again,” he says. “The next time something of interest comes through my doors, I’ll give it to Donna.”

I glower at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I sure as fuck would.”

“We’ll see how shitty you want to be after I find your dirty secrets. You know Matthew will do whatever I ask because I saved him from deep throating a bomb.”

“Oh? A bit kinky,” Jesse says.

“I told him it wasn’t a good idea, but he was still?—”

“He was still what?” Matthew growls.

I turn to look before feigning surprise. “Christ, I thought one of the dead had risen when I saw your face.”

“You’re in an awfully chipper mood,” he grumbles.

I grin as I pat his face. He seems to enjoy it based on the way he glowers and squints with each pat. “I was just telling Jesse here about your deep-throating skills. Wingman of the century standing right here.”

“I didn’t fucking deep throat the bomb. I was going to answer the phone and somehow, I allowed Liam to save me from having my face blown off. A part of me questions if it was worth it.”

Jesse is all grins, loving every moment of this. “I didn’t know Liam could be that kind.”

“I can’t be.”

“Well, I kind of like your face and am very glad it didn’t get blown off,” Jesse says, which makes Matthew perk right up.

That’s rather ghastly, so I say, “Jesse, I really think your coworker has galloped over the rainbow bridge.”

“She’s gay or she’s dead?” Jesse asks as he glances over at Marge, who is dead asleep. Her mouth is hanging open and it weirdly makes me want to toss something into it. I feel like Matthew is having similar thoughts, judging by the way his fingers twitch.

“You can make that decision,” I say. “Well, unlike you guys, I have real people work to do.”

“Didn’t you literally show up hours late, and are now chastising us for being done with our work so we can head home?” Matthew asks.

“You two heading home together? I did that once with Gabriel, and look at us now. Now we have a house and two kids together.”

“You do not beat around the bush at all, do you?” Jesse asks. “Like no one ever taught you the fine art of discretion.”

“I beat around a lot of bushes. Just ask Gabriel.”

Then I laugh while no one else does and head for the stairs with the file Jesse gave me in hand. Seems like he was useful after all.