Page 15

Chapter 14

G ordon, after waking up much too early and being denied the naked and very, very handsome man waking him, had felt a little confused. The confusion had set in probably after Adler had left for work, but at that point it had still been early, and because Gordon suffered from chronically slow morning brain, he’d only realized once he’d gotten to the morgue, walked into his office, and sat down at his desk to deal with paperwork and the odd email.

The moment the relationship confusion had hit, Gordon had stopped typing, had looked up, and said, “Fuck.”

It is possible I overreacted about Adler. It’s also possible he’s interested in more than just sex, and I might be interested in more than just sex. The issue with more than just sex was that it bore the potential for a great amount of messiness, and Gordon was beginning to realize that he had, over the past several years, steered clear of all kinds of messiness.

The case that had come in at around the same time Gordon had did exactly nothing to improve his mood, to the contrary.

In the morgue proper, with the bright lights above the table baring everything, Gordon’s mind and memories had no place to escape.

Paula was, what, four years older?

Gordon knew this corpse didn’t need him distracted or confusing this case with another, and he also knew that he had to think of her as “the corpse,” because if he didn’t, he would think of her as a person, and look at her as a person, and he would run the danger of missing what he was trained to see.

So he took a step back, turned away from the memories, and looked at the corpse like someone who wanted to see facts and connections, not someone who wanted to see a person, mourn them, feel sorry for them.

I have seen that before, Gordon thought when he took a closer look at the corpse’s neck and the strangulation marks.

“Corinne! Get me that file Dr. Jackson sent over, the Ripper copycat murder.”

Corinne looked up from a small desk where she was typing up one report or another. “Sheesh, you don’t have to yell.”

While Corinne got the file for Gordon, he took some measurements, double-checked.

“Here you go,” Corinne said. “I printed the whole thing.”

Gordon pulled off his gloves and opened the file while Corinne looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be damned,” he said when he compared his measurements to Dr. Jackson’s notes.

“These are connected? They look nothing alike,” Corinne said, reached around him to flip the page to a photograph.

“I’m not done with this one yet, but I would bet dollars to doughnuts the COD is the same in both cases. They were strangled, and by the same person. Look, the hand size matches. In fact, double-check my work.”

He watched as Corinne pulled on some rubber gloves and measured the imprints the murderer had left on the fae’s neck. She was thorough about it, and Gordon nodded in approval.

“You’re right, Dr. Morris. It matches Dr. Jackson’s notes.”

Gordon let out a breath. “Okay.”

Corinne cocked her head. “Is that good?”

Gordon shrugged. “That depends. I’ll have to call Maxim and let him know. She was found…?”

Corinne pulled off her gloves and grabbed the intake printout from the worktable. “Behind a bar, passed out. They called an ambulance, but they couldn’t do anything for her, pronounced her dead at the hospital and sent her to us because she’s fae.”

Gordon snorted. “And noticed nothing? Fucking hell.”

Corinne looked up from the file. “But isn’t it really difficult to get a pulse on a fae? And determining time of death too, right? Because livor mortis doesn’t present like it does in humans.”

“Yes,” Gordon said and pointed at the fae’s neck. “But she was fucking choked. I can’t believe this.” He tossed his gloves in the medical trash. “I’ll go call Maxim and tell him about this. Keep her company.”

Corinne looked at the fae. “I know how you are with the corpses, Dr. Morris, but—”

“Just stay with her,” Gordon said.

He stormed out of the morgue. He didn’t usually talk down to his interns like that, especially not Corinne. I shouldn’t be thinking of Paula this much. I shouldn’t be angry while I’m at work.

The familiarity of his office was immediately soothing, but even as he rounded the desk and sat, grabbing his phone from the charging station, he found himself wanting to call Adler first. Adler, who had slept next to him, all warm and safe, and—

Gordon nearly toppled the Kawaii Demon Hunter charging station before he could focus and call Maxim.

“Oh, hello, Gordon. What can I do for you? How was your night?” the hunter asked lightly.

Gordon closed his eyes and eased his breathing. “I’m calling because of today’s first corpse.”

“I know for a fact that’s not Adler, and I’m already feeling sorry that you’re calling me about the dead, Gordon.”

“Maxim, this is a fae girl, and she was murdered. Strangulation. Going by the handprint on her neck, by this Ripper copycat.”

Maxim fell silent. It was uncharacteristic. It was creepy. Then, “You don’t say. What’s her name?”

“Linda Finch.” Gordon recited the name from memory. He didn’t always address his guests by their name when they were on his table, but he always knew. It was just common courtesy in his line of work, or so he thought.

“Ill-begotten fortunes,” Maxim said.

“What now?”

“We are looking for a fae. Her name is Gloria.”

“What do you mean, you are looking…wait, you are looking for another fae?”

“Yes. A coed from NAU.”

“Oh, no,” Gordon said.

“Indeed. Gordon, please finish your work on Linda. I will join you when I can. I need to find Gloria first.”

Gordon rubbed the back of his neck. “Good luck, Maxim. I’ll do what I can here.”

He hung up. Yeah, I’ll do what I can, but it isn’t all that much, is it?

More than before, Gordon felt tempted to call Adler. He wasn’t sure he should, wasn’t sure he shouldn’t. In the end, he decided to call Adler after the autopsy, hoping he’d have more to tell him then.

He put the phone back on its charging station. Then he steeled himself and went to work.