Having climaxed, and finding the sun up, Dr. Darryl Loughlin pulled up his scrubs, took a shower, changed into street clothes and got into his truck and drove down to the port to take the car ferry back to his Fisher Island condo. He rarely got to go home, though he did live close. But, it just seemed unreasonable to ask the harbormaster to rouse the ferryman at 4am on a Saturday morning. While he may have been an heir to a $90 Million cattle and ranching fortune, his parents told him to respect those that weren't as fortunate. While some of his contemporaries were off spending their parent's money in Ibiza and partying in San Tropez, he decided to join the Navy after finishing medical school. His parents gave him their Fisher Island condo after he honorably discharged from the Navy. He took it as encouragement to keep working in the public service, and Jackson Memorial Hospital was the perfect place for him. He went from general practice to Cardiology and even taught a class or two. All of that didn't leave much time for a personal life, which is why he welcomed the idea of a relationship with Rory Hawkins. She didn't know about his money, and for now that was quite the way he liked it. He didn't want someone slobbering all over him while reaching for his wallet, or fucking him and seeing dollar signs instead of his eyes. His view of the Miami skyline was interrupted.
Here comes trouble, he thought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rory liked working Saturday mornings. The station was quiet, and after that night with Yvonne, she needed calm and quiet to accent the glow she was feeling. The Hurricanes game was not until 7pm, so it left her some time to make some phone calls to the classmates of both the victim and the suspect.
She found that Wilkins was quite the partier, as was DeOca. They didn't know one another, but one or two of DeOca's friends said she was pretty star struck by the football players, infatuated, even. That was not uncommon at UofM, and Rory was unfazed. She was about to resign herself to going down to Coral Gables by herself to check with the sociology professor when Vanessa came in. "Lets go."
"Alright, where are we going?"
"We are going to the interview room to talk to someone who's gonna talk some sense into you about this guy. I did some digging of my own while at the scene. I talked to a cocktail waitress and a room service clerk. The cocktail waitress said that he'd tried to force herself on him before last night."
"Ok. Anything else?" She made the hand motion for her to proceed. Det. Rojas was getting more exited.
"I think this is enough to at least bring him in for more questioning. Listen at least to what she has to say."
"Alright, and after that, I'm picking up the record check and going the hell home." Rory walked to the interview room with Vanessa following. Inside she found an older, but pretty woman staring at the ceiling. Vanessa Rojas stood as Rory sat across from her subject. "Ok, what happened to you on Friday night?"
She darted her eyes from right to left, then looked Rory in the eye. "I saw him come in. He was a little drunk, but then asked for a shot of Courvoisier, and put a $50 down on the table. He smacked my ass as I walked away. After I served him, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the night; I said the same thing I'm doing now. He asked me if I could blow work to come up to his room. When I said no, he broke the glass on the floor and walked out."
Rojas leaned against the wall, a look of triumph on her face. Rory knew her advocacy for Wilkins had taken a hit, but there was still something, Rory thought as she focused on the woman and not her partner.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Darryl looked away, but it was too late. Paris had seen him, and was zeroing in on her quarry. "Hey, Doctor Boy."
"Good day. I admit I'm not much for conversation after the night I've had."
"Why, which nurse did you fuck?"
Darryl rolled his eyes. This was the kind of person that gave rich people like him a bad name, he thought to himself with a slight bit of amusement. He'd met Paris at a charity party, where he helped her up from the floor, where she was passed out drunk, legs spread, pussy just out and seen to the world. From then on, she wanted to see if she could lure him into her bed. He was hunky enough, but her trouble was that he had a brain, and it was on Rory.
"I didn't fuck anyone. I had to replace a pacemaker, aid in an open heart surgery and talk to someone who has a choice between getting surgery and dying, but can't get the transplant. I had to comfort a grieving mother who lost her son to a sudden, unexplained heart attack. So no, no fucking for me tonight."
Paris was a little floored. "Ew. So you were covered with blood and stuff? That IS kinda hot when you think about it."
