Slasherazzi (2 page)

The body in question lay behind an outcrop of bushes, its lower half covered with a sheet. Michelle, one of our medical examiners, knelt by the side of the corpse, examining some of the wounds. I took a few steps toward her to get a better look. Just like previous victims his throat was slit and an array of shallow cuts decorated the entire length of his bare skin. Only a few bands of flesh across his chest, stomach and arms about an inch and a half thick remained unmarked, as though something had been in the way. His hair, which was a light chestnut similar to my own, was plastered to his forehead by a layer of dried blood.

Michelle glanced up at me, and I nodded toward the sheet covering his legs. She lifted it up to reveal his genitals attached only by a few threads of skin and ligaments, mutilated almost beyond recognition. Consistent with our killer’s habits. My stomach churned, and I moved my attention back to the rest of the body. His left hand was missing a part of his little finger. I squatted down to examine the ragged skin around the wound.

Michelle shook her head. “The body was moved after death. Maybe it got left behind or misplaced along the way.”

“Or maybe he kept it as a trophy. But all of the previous corpses were intact. Why change his methods now?”

“You tell me,” Michelle said. “My area of expertise is in dead bodies, not live ones.”
“And what is our guy here telling you?”
She pointed first to his wrists, then motioned across

his stomach. “The bruising here, and also the strips of flesh that have been left undamaged suggest he was restrained. My guess would be duct tape, which would be consistent with our findings on the previous victims.”

“What about this hole?” I said, noting a deeper, wider wound below his ribcage. Not something we’d seen on any of the previous bodies.

“Clean cut suggests a sharp implement, though inside appears to be messier. We’ll know more once we get him back to the lab. Perhaps it will give us a better indication of the instrument used.”

“So what was it you wanted me to see?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at Tanya. “Other than the hole and the missing finger, it’s exactly like every other one of his kills.”

I examined the body once more, focusing on the seemingly random pattern of dark slashes contrasting against the ashen skin. The violent spatters of red across his torn flesh made the whole picture seem more horrific than his other kills. They had been cleaner. Less bloody.

“The victim was still alive when these were made,” Michelle said, as if to confirm my suspicions. “On the previous victims, the cuts were all done post-mortem, other than the initial severing of the jugular.”

“He’s getting more confident. Moving out of his comfort zone,” I said, scratching at the day-old stubble on my chin. “He’s experimenting. It means we may have to rethink everything we thought we knew about this guy. This isn’t just about defiling the bodies, or whatever it was, anymore. This is torture.”

“We’ve got ourselves a real sadistic one this time,” Tanya said.
I nodded my agreement and then lifted my head to take in the surrounding area. “Where’s Lieutenant Boyd? I figured he’d be down here to deal with the media.”
“He went off with Sergeant Maloney to canvass the area for any witnesses. We’ve already scoured most of the scene, and as usual, we’ve found no clues. Not much left to do, but pack up and hit the drawing board.”
Michelle lifted her head at that moment and glanced in our direction. No doubt she was eager to get the body inside before it ripened from the heat. “All yours,” I said, before standing and turning to Tanya. “Do we have a name for our John Doe?”
She shook her head. “Same as all the others. We’ll probably be waiting for a relative to ID the body before we get a name.”
“Alright, well, you call me the second you find anything.”
“Why? Where are you going?” Tanya asked.
“Crime scene’s already mostly processed, right? Not much we can do until we get a name for our vic. Oh, and it’s my day off, remember? For once, I’d actually like to not spend the whole of it working.”
“Oh, I get it. You probably have a hot date with Vincent, right? Well, don’t let me keep you. I’ll be working my ass off, while you’re off flirting with that nogood journalist.”
“It’s just coffee.”
“When is it ever just coffee with you two? You say it’s that, then next thing you know you’re at it like rabbits in heat, and a couple of months down the line you’re breaking up again.”
I glared at Tanya, who held her hands up.
“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” she said. “Maybe the two of you aren’t meant to be. There’s gotta be a big reason why you keep splitting up.”
“And maybe there’s an equally big reason why we keep getting back together,” I replied.
“Yeah, I wonder what that could be.”
“I wish I knew,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I wish I knew.”
Tanya laughed. “I’ll give you a clue. It’s in your pants, and it’s overriding the sensible part of your brain. Now go on, get lost before the lieutenant gets back and spots you, or you’ll be losing your day off again.”
I smiled. “Call me if there’s any news, you hear?”
“Will do. Have fun with your ‘just coffee’.”
“Have fun chasing your tail,” I replied and shook my head gently as I made my way back to where I'd parked. They wouldn’t find anything, just like all the other crime scenes. Whoever our killer was, he was smart and very, very careful.
I climbed into the car and drove around to the front of the park, close to where the media had gathered in the hopes of getting a peek at the body or to be the first to report any new evidence.
Idiots.
All they wanted was a story, and they didn’t care what damage they did in the process. They would trample the crime scene and destroy any clues, if it weren’t for the uniformed officers standing guard. If a new lead showed up, they’d do anything to get their hands on it so they could share it to the world and let the killer know we were possibly onto him. And that was the problem with Vince. He was a great guy, but the second there was a story to be found, he became a different person.
I beeped my horn twice, and Vince emerged from the crowd to wave at me. A couple of heads turned and saw him walking toward me. Of course, as soon as they saw a fellow journalist leave the heaving throng, they figured I must be someone important, and like a pack of sheep, they descended upon me. Vince jumped into the passenger seat as they started firing questions.
“Can you confirm that the Slasherazzi has killed again?”
“Are there any new leads in the case?”
After that, the questions bled into each other, creating an incoherent droning.
“If you want a statement, then shut up and listen,” I shouted. The clamor died down into a quiet murmur as microphones and Dictaphones were extended toward me. Cameras flashed, leaving spots blinking in my vision. “You’re all a bunch of soulless vultures. Someone died out there today, and all you give a crap about is your goddamn story. That is my statement.”
After the initial shock wore off, the noise picked up again. I revved the engine a few times, and the reporters that had positioned themselves in the front of the car had enough brains to scuttle out of the way.
“Your captain is gonna be livid,” Vince said as we turned onto Hillsborough.
“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta put them in their place.”
“Does that include me?” he asked.
“Don’t even get me started on you. Where do you wanna go?”
“Changing the subject,” he muttered. “How about Reed’s?”
“Sounds good.”
We turned off the highway at North Twentieth, then left onto East Wilder. I parked the car down the street from the diner, and we walked the rest of the way. Stepping through the door was like taking a wrong turn and ending up in the sixties. The floor was tiled in black and white squares, and the walls were covered with an assortment of posters advertising products that had long since gone out of production. The seats and ceiling were a deep red, and an old jukebox sat in the far corner, lit up in neon purple and blue, playing the Kinks. The diner was almost empty, save for a few couples sitting at the window booths.
Behind the counter a young woman stood waiting, wearing a hideous, bright-pink uniform dress. We sat down at one of the booths, away from the rest of the patrons, and the waitress approached us, smiling as she looked at Vince.
“Can I take your order?” she asked.
“Two coffees, please,” I said. She jotted it down on her notepad.
“And some chocolate cake,” Vince added.
“Little early for cake, isn’t it?” the woman said. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin your figure with all those calories.”
“Oh, I plan on working it off later…if you catch my drift,” Vince said with a grin. The waitress blushed as she scribbled down the rest of the order. She turned quickly and was soon back with our drinks and cake, smiling shyly at Vince as she placed the cake in front of him. The edges of my lips crept upward, and I struggled to hold back a laugh as she gave him a quick wave and went about her work once more.
“If only she knew,” I said, sipping at my coffee. “You’re evil, getting her hopes up like that. She’d have a better chance of getting me to take her home.”
“I can’t help being irresistible,” he said, laughing.
“Modesty never was one of your strong points.”
After the initial conversation died down, we sat in awkward silence for a minute or two. I played with the silver bracelet on my wrist, twisting it. A small round charm hung from one of the links, with an angel embossed into its surface. Another minute passed, and still, Vince didn’t speak. He shuffled in his seat and scratched at his cheek. I knew what he was preparing to ask me, and I’m sure he knew I knew. A couple of times, I saw the words form on the tip of his tongue, but then he’d look down at his plate and scoop up some of the sponge cake.
“You’re not getting anything out of me,” I said.
“Come on, Alex. Off the record.”
“There’s never an ‘off the record’ with you, Vince,” I replied. “You remember why we broke up the first time?”
“The Maria Westwood case,” he said, before shoveling another mouthful of cake into his mouth. His emerald eyes caught mine as he slowly drew the spoon from between his lips. I fought the urge to smirk back at him.
“I can’t tell you shit without it ending up on the front page.” The Maria Westwood case had almost cost me my job and my promotion. Dating a journalist was a nightmare, especially one as determined as Vince.
“That’s not true. Your favorite ice cream is vanilla. You like the original
Halloween
better. You cry whenever you watch
Ghost
. In 2003, you—”
“What’s your point?” I asked, interrupting him.
“You’ve told me plenty of stuff that hasn’t ended up in the paper.”
I laughed. “My life isn’t exactly newsworthy. And the answer is still no.”
“Please,” Vince pleaded. “The killer sent in pictures again this morning, and I need a good story to back them up. You know how much this case means to my career.”
With every new murder, a set of photos would show up at the local newspaper, depicting his latest victim after he had finished playing with them. Hence his nickname, the Slasherazzi; a moniker that Vince himself had come up with.
“No.”
“Okay. How about we go back to mine, and I’ll see if I can’t loosen you up a little?”
“Tempting,” I admitted. Vince’s foot brushed past my leg under the table.
“You got your handcuffs with you?” he asked, leering at me.
“Yeah.” The first drop of sweat trickled down my back, and it had nothing to do with the mild April weather.
“Then arrest me, Officer Alex,” he whispered, leaning slightly over the table.
“Detective,” I corrected him with a smile.
“Sorry, Detective Alex.” He grinned.
“What’s your crime?” I asked, standing and pulling my car keys from my pocket.
Vince cocked his head slightly to one side and sucked in his bottom lip. A few seconds later, he replied, “Trying to corrupt an officer of the law.”
I smirked. “Oh, the punishment for that is very severe.”
“I’m hoping so.” Vince brushed past me, squeezing through the narrow aisle of the diner, his hand brushing lightly past my groin. I stopped at the counter to pay our bill, then followed Vince outside.
We walked to the car, and I popped open the trunk to fish out the handcuffs I had there with the rest of my gear. Vince was waiting on the sidewalk, his back turned to me. I crept up behind him and threw him over the hood. He gave a surprised gasp, his cheek connecting with the hot metal. A few heads on the street turned, curious to see what was happening.
I slapped the handcuffs on and leaned into him, pressing my body flush against his. “You have the right to remain silent,” I whispered.

Vince groaned, stretching his arms and legs out across the white sheets of his bed. I lay back down next to him after cleaning myself up, my leg draped over his and the palm of my left hand gently passing over his smooth skin, still damp with sweat.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as my hand ventured down farther toward his firm, round ass. “I don’t think you’ve fully paid for your crimes, yet,” I whispered, his body shuddering against me as I pressed gently into his slick hole, the muscles clamping down on my finger.

He chuckled and turned his head to smirk at me. “What’s got you so horny today?”
“Nothing.” I pushed a second finger inside him, his hips rising to start fucking himself on my fingers. Withdrawing them, I rolled over on top of him, straddling his legs. My cock began to harden, rubbing between his cheeks. I leaned down to lock my lips around the juncture of his jaw and neck, biting down gently and drawing a long moan from his throat. “Hope you’ve got some more rubbers.”
“Middle drawer. I just stocked up, so we can go at it all day if you want.” He leered at me, lifting his hips to rub his ass against the underside of my dick.
“You think you can manage that?” I asked, standing and giving his left cheek a firm slap. He let out a surprised yelp, the smacking sound reverberating through the small room. “I’m not gonna be as gentle on you this time.”
“Who’s asking you to be gentle?”
I walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the middle drawer, rummaging under the layer of socks until my hand closed around a small box. Placing it onto the bed next to the bottle of lube, I retook my position above Vince, pressing my body flush against his.
“Tell me, Vince,” I whispered. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, Alex. Fuck me hard.”
My dick swelled, twitching with anticipation. “Yeah? You like my cock inside you, don’t you?”
Vince nodded, a small whimper passing his lips.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard…ram my cock all the way in. Wanna hear my balls slapping against you. Is that what you want?”
He grunted into the pillow, his fists clenching. “Yes. God, yes. Fuck me, Alex. Fuck me now.”
I opened the box of condoms, taking out one of the foil wrappers and began to tear it when a soft buzzing caught my attention.
“That better be a new toy I’m hearing,” Vince said with a groan.
My phone. “Shit. Hang on,” I said, clambering off the bed to search through the mound of clothes until I found my cell and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Took your damn time. Wait, don’t tell me. You were with Vince, weren’t you? Spare me the details, okay? As much as I love you, Alex, I don’t need those kinda images scarring me for life.”
“Tanya. What’s up?” I sat down on the edge of the bed, doing my best to ignore Vince as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his hard cock against my spine.
“We got a name for our John Doe. Robert Pearson. His wife showed up at the station this morning to file a missing persons report. She ID’d the body about half an hour ago.”
“What do we know about him?” I asked, stifling a groan as Vince’s tongue began to circle my ear. I lifted my right hand to try and swat him away.
“Not a lot, yet. The wife hasn’t exactly been in a talkative mood. What we do know is that he was a pastor at one of the local churches. I’m doing a background check on him now, see if I can dig up any dirt on him.”
“Well, thanks for letting me know. You’ll call me as soon as you find anything, right?”
“Actually, the reason I was calling you is because we’re holding a meeting in about forty-five minutes. The lieutenant wants you there.”
“I don’t know why I bother trying to take days off,” I said with a sigh, then a grunt as Vince’s teeth bit down gently on the shell of my ear.
“That better not have been what I thought it was. Is Vince with you right now? Put me on speakerphone. I want a word with him.”
‘Tanya—”
“Alex, put me on speakerphone, or so help me God, I will whoop your ass, you hear me?”
I lifted the phone away from my ear and hit the speaker button. “Go ahead,” I said, and Vince looked at me in askance.
“All right, you listen here, Fairfield. I don’t know what kinda game you’re playing this time, but if you hurt Alex again, you’ll have me to deal with. I’ve got my eyes on you, okay?”
Vince grinned. “I’ll make sure to wear some tight jeans so you get a nice view.”
“And why would I wanna look at your skinny white ass?”
“Because it’s round, firm and has no tan lines. You can come have a close-up look if you want.”
There was a moment of silence. “I’m gonna just pretend you didn’t say that,” she ground out. “But remember, you’ve been warned. Now, put your dick away before I have to come around there and neuter you. I need to borrow Alex for a while. Official police business. You know how it is.”
“Sorry, Vince, but you heard the lady. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Don’t let them start without me, okay?”
Tanya laughed. “When have you ever known the lieutenant to wait for anyone? You’d best get your ass on over here.” The line went dead.
I stood and bent down to pick up my clothes off the floor. When I had finished getting dressed, I went to leave the room. Vince hadn’t moved from his spot. He was being unusually quiet, which meant he was busy preparing himself to say something. I reached for the door handle.
“Alex.”
And there it was. “Can’t this wait, Vince? I really need to get going.”
“It’s just, I was wondering if I’d get to see you again.”
I let out a deep breath and lowered my head to avoid his eyes.
“Is that a no?”
“No, it’s not. I want to see you again—”
“But?”
But what if Tanya was right? What if all the times we had split up were trying to tell me something? “I like you, Vince. A lot. It’s just that every time we get back together, something happens to tear us apart again. I want things to be different…I really do, but what if this is just something we can’t make work?”
“We can,” he said, jumping up off the bed to wrap his arms around me. At five foot ten, Vince was the right height to nuzzle his nose against my neck without having to hunch at all. “One more chance? Please?”
I let out another long sigh, feeling my will to resist start to crumble once more. Every time was the same. A part of me grew more and more tired of the repetitious nature of our relationship, and yet when faced with him, I couldn’t say no. Why was that?
“I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?” I said, turning to face him. With one hand, I lifted his chin so our lips could meet. His tongue ventured out, pressing into my mouth, and I responded in turn. I reached my hands around to grip his ass, pulling him closer to me. He grunted into the kiss, his cock beginning to harden as it rubbed against the coarse fabric of my jeans. I pulled back, letting out a low growl as his eyes met mine, a wicked grin on his face.
I reached down to wrap my hand around the head of his cock. Vince let out a soft whimper as I squeezed gently and began to rotate my wrist. His body shuddered.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Hold that thought for later,” I said with a smirk, releasing my grip on him and giving him a quick tap on the ass.
“Tease,” he said, opening the door. “Go on, before you blue ball me for real.”
“Now there’s an idea for tonight.” I gave him a quick wave as I left.
I exited the apartment complex and got into my car, where I sat still for a moment. Fuck, it was happening again. Every damn time, I would go into the relationship hoping things would be different between us. And they never were. So why was I still getting my hopes up? I ran my hands through my hair before starting the engine and pulling away. Maybe the drive to the station would help clear my head.