Chapter One
Lamar Cooper yawned and stretched before slamming the lukewarm coffee in his mug and rising to refill it. Leaning against the dingy beige wall while the new pot finished brewing, his eyes wandered over the new cases pinned to the board awaiting assignment.
A break-and-enter at the local liquor store. An attempted smash and grab at a mall jeweler. A group of teenagers had dined and dashed at Antonio's Pizza.
The usual weekend crap.
Lamar keyed in on the only red-tag on the board. A suspicious death had been reported the night before. As the on-call homicide detective for the weekend, odds were that it would be landing in the backlog of cases already sitting on his desk.
Shit.
Filling his mug with fresh coffee, Lamar returned to his desk to finish typing up the report on the murder-suicide he'd wrapped up a day earlier, hoping for a few minutes peace before the new assignments were handed out.
An hour later, Lamar was back at his desk, flipping through the scant file he had been handed in the briefing.
The as-yet-unidentified middle-aged man had been found deceased in the alley behind a cheap motel that did double duty as a notorious drug and prostitution hub. He was reasonably well dressed – overdressed for the area, actually - but carried no identification, money, or credit cards.
Well familiar with the crime-infested motel, Lamar chuckled to himself. Even without the crime scene photos showing the man with his pants and boxers rucked down, he could have guessed why the victim was there.
“Something funny?”
Lamar glanced up to see Balthazar Genovsauntering up.On loan from a neighboring precinct, Genov was filling in while Lamar's usual partner, Vic Trask, was on paternity leave with his Omega and newborn son.
Lamar shrugged and kicked the spare chair towards him, but Genov declined it with a shake of his head. “Victim died behind theTramp On Inmotel even though he apparently wasn't a guest. I’m shocked that the manager called us instead of just propping him up against the dumpster.”
“Wasn’t trash day and the city has been cracking down on littering,” Genov deadpanned before breaking out in a grin. “Want a hand working it?”
“No, man.” Lamar waived him off. “It’s your weekend off, enjoy. Autopsy isn’t scheduled until Monday morning, and we don’t even have an ID yet. Nothing is gonna happen on this one that can’t wait until Monday.”
“Deal.” Genov snapped a quick salute and headed for the door.
Lamar settled back in his chair and began reading through the meager collection of information on his latest case. Twenty minutes later, Lamar had read everything twice and left a voicemail message for the coroner’s office to find out when they thought the autopsy would be completed. He had to admit that the cops responding to this one were right: this death was not only suspicious – it was downright weird.
~*~
The coroner’s report was waiting in Lamar's email when he and Genov met at the precinct Monday morning. Genov detoured past the coffee pot and filled two cups. Lamar downloaded the attachment and printed three copies - one official copy for the file and one that each of them could scribble notes on.
Genov slid one cup of coffee over to Lamar, grabbing his copy of the report as he dropped into the vacant chair beside the desk. Several minutes passed in silence as they perused the report. Brows furrowed in identical disbelief, they read and reread the papers before Lamar finally tossed his copy down on the desk, took a long drink of his coffee, and sighed.
“Doesanythingin this report make sense to you?”
“Well,” Genov glanced over the first page again. “Saturday was the third and the motelislocated at the address listed. Other than that? No. Not a damn thing.”
Pulling up the computer file from the server, Lamar downloaded and printed the requisite three copies of the initial police report. Handing one copy to Genov, he stuffed one into the folder in front of him and scanned the third. He referred back to the coroner’s report and then read it again.
“If this is correct," Lamar said slowly. "This middle age man shot up with heroin before blowing himself in the alley where he died from unknown causes as he came." Running his fingers through his short hair, Lamar sighed. “I guess this one was tagged suspicious for goodreason.”
"You think he got ahold of a hot shot?" Genov asked, his brow furrowed.
"Dunno." Lamar shook his head in frustration. "M.E. seems pretty sure that it wasn't an overdose despite the needle in his thigh. A hot shot should have presented as an overdose, not undetermined." He raised a brow at his partner. "And, again, blowing himself in an alley? Dude doesn't look like he was anywhere near nimble enough for that shit. And if he was, why the hell would he be doing it in a back alley instead of at home or in a car?"
“Fetish?” Genov suggested doubtfully.
Lamar shrugged, and the two men turned back to the pages in their hands.
“That’s interesting,” Genov observed out loud. “Did you see what they found in his pocket?”
“Ummm..” Lamar flipped back to the personal property inventory. “What caught your attention?”
