I'm a glutton for punishement. This will be a short story, only a few chapters long, but I felt the need to write more of it. I hope you'll give it a chance. Thanks, Danielle.
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The crackle of brush startled him. Detective Tyler "Trip" Grant looked up, spotting the coroner pushing through the brambles and bushes to get to the body.
"Rumor is we've got another one," the coroner, Dr. Wendy Merritt said to the tall, good looking detective.
"I think that's something you should be telling me," Trip said, smiling grimly. He rubbed his fingers over his mustache and down over the small beard he kept trimmed around his mouth. It was something he did when he was thinking, that and running his hands through his dark hair until it stood around his head, giving him a half crazed look.
Wendy knelt next to the sprawled, naked body, her canny eyes noting every detail. "Female, age somewhere between 17 and twenty-one. Left naked. Body was dumped, no staging apparent." She reached out with one gloved hand, lifting the girl's chin so she could see her throat. "Ugh, yeah, we've got another one. Throat was torn out and I'm almost positive cause of death will be exsanguinations."
"But it didn't happen here," Trip said, a statement not a question.
"Nope, no blood pool, only marks of disturbance on the body is from whoever dumped her. No identification?"
"Oh yeah," Trip joked. "It was in her front pocket."
"Smart ass," Wendy snorted. "I'll take her in and mark her special processing. That will hold her until I come back on shift tonight."
"You can't do the post before you leave?"
"Trip, it's Cale's birthday. If I don't leave on time, I'll never be able to wake up to make his favorite dinner. I know this is high priority, and if you'd rather have someone else do it so you can get it fast, so be it. I'll have Chang do her when he comes in."
"No, I want you on it." Trip ran his hands through his hair again, staring at the body. "It's just, this is number six and I have no clues, no ideas, no suspects. The only thing we know is that each of the past victims had been seeing Dr. Steeple before they disappeared. That smarmy bastard has air tight alibis for every murder."
Wendy stood, glancing around the scene. No one was paying attention to them. "You'll get him, Tyler. You know you will. It's just a matter of time." She laid her hand on his arm, feeling the lean muscles tense under her touch.
"It's been two weeks, Wendy. Can't you find a sitter for the kids and come to my place for a couple of hours this morning?" Trip asked, his voice pitched low. "I miss you." His hand stroked over her cheek before dropping back to his side, but the small gesture spoke volumes.
"They go with their father this weekend, Trip," she said as quietly. "Can't you and your libido wait until then?"
"Will you come and stay with me?" he asked, wishing he had the nerve to bend and kiss her sweet lips.
"I'm working Friday but if you can wait until Saturday..." she let her voice trail off. "I'll wear the pink outfit you like."
A mental image of Wendy, with her pert little breasts and her slender hips in the tiny pink bra and panties with matching garter belt and thigh high stockings had parts of him standing at attention. Of course, she noticed, laughing and patting the front of his pants. "I can see that's a yes."
"That's a definite yes," he grinned. "When are you going to move in with me so we don't have to sneak around anymore? You know your kids adore me and my place is twice the size of yours."
"We'll have this conversation this weekend," she hissed, waving her guys in so that they could pick up the body. She watched as the spread the tarp onto the ground next to her, lifting her nude form and turning her upright on the plastic. They bent to start to wrap her up, mummy like so that no evidence on the body would be lost but Wendy stopped them, stooping to unbend the dead girl's fingers and plucking something from her grip. She held her hand out to Trip, feeling him place an evidence bag in her hands.
"We've got hair," she said softly, looking up. "If there are tags attached, like I'm betting there are, we'll have the killer's DNA. Seems this one was a fighter and brought us a piece of her killer with her."
"Good girl," Trip said. He reached his hand out for the envelope, tucking it into his pocket. "I'll get this into the lab. Good eyes, Wendy."
"Thanks," she said, waiting until her guys had finished packaging up the body and placing it into the body bag before lifting up on her toes to kiss Trip's cheek. "Later," she whispered.
"Definitely." Trip watched as the crime scene unit scurried in like ants and began to work the scene. Then his eyes shifted to the jeans that Wendy was wearing and the way they fit her body, moving seductively as she walked away from him.
He'd been attracted to her from the very first moment he'd laid eyes on her in the morgue at the hospital. She'd looked like an angel, with her curly blonde hair framing her delicate features, her blue eyes shining up at him from thick, lush lashes. Her looks had been at such odds with the job she did, dealing with death every day in all its myriad of forms, some so gruesome it caused him to squirm a bit.
But not Wendy. She dealt with them all, treating each body as if that person were her friend. She gave them respect and dignity at a time when most of their dignity was gone. That alone had attracted him enough to want to take her to dinner. But it had taken him months before she'd go out with him and then weeks after that for her to see him as anything but a colleague.
Trip could still remember their first kiss and how she'd tasted. She was like sweet, hot honey when aroused and the little sounds she made when he caressed her breasts had driven him crazy. He'd been so eager for her, he'd almost taken her in the front seat of his car. Instead, he'd pulled open her jeans, exposing soft satin and even softer skin. His fingers had found her wet, hot, needy with her flesh throbbing.
He could feel himself hardening now as he thought of how he'd pleasured her, outside of her small apartment that was in the top floor of a two story house. She'd come on his fingers, he'd been able to feel her contractions even as his mouth found hers.
Afterward, he could remember how flushed she'd been and then the next day, her eyes had met his shyly as if he held a deep dark secret about her. She'd surprised him, coming to his apartment a few hours before he had shift.
Wendy had knocked on his door wearing a trench coat, heels and nothing else. When he opened the door, she'd pushed him back, fastening her mouth to his until he slammed the door behind them and pushed her against the wall. She'd been like a wild cat, ripping at his tee shirt, driving him to madness. Showing little care for her, he'd pushed aside everything he had on a side table, laid her on it and had driven his cock hard into her sopping pussy.
They'd ended up on the floor, him on his back, her riding him hard, making him come until he felt as if he'd been turned inside out.
Now every time was different and he was in love. Tyler thought of the ring he'd bought, the ring that sat in his night table waiting for the perfect moment. A rush of excitement filled him; maybe this weekend was the right moment.
