Chapter Nineteen
By the time that the clock on the wall ticked over to five o’clock, Lamar and Genov were staring at a conference room table neatly lined with rows of police department identification photos, each one with a sticky note underneath assigning them a task or duty at theAfter Ninecrime scene. Ranging from crowd control to lead detective, each was marked with a correlating arrival at the scene on theAfter Ninesecurity footage.
“That’s the last one,” Genov sighed as he pressed the sticky note reading “visiting detective” under his own picture. “Now will you tell me what you were looking for?”
“Sure.” Lamar pointed to the laptop screen that was frozen on a picture of the evidence technician bagging the victim’s hands. “Who is that?”
“Um,” Genov scanned over the pictures and pointed to one of a serious man with mousybrown hair. “That would have to be Winters, wouldn’t it? He was the only tech there, wasn’t he?”
“According to the log, yes,” Lamar agreed. “But check out the time stamp on these two pics.” He pulled a couple of printed photographs from the pile and passed them over.
“Fuck.” Genov looked from the image of the technician outside, helmet off as he talked with the lead detective to the one that showed Lamar and Genov walking down the hall to the crime scene. “He never passed us. How’d he beat us inside?”
“Couldn’t have,” Lamar said grimly. “The one in the headgear is the killer. They must have been hiding inside and seen the opportunity.” He clicked through several frames on the monitor until he found the footage of the fake technician calmly walking out of the building and blending into the crowd outside. “We had the fucker and just let’em walk away.”
Genov sighed in disgust. “Not good, man. Not good.”
Lamar nodded and scribbled some notes on his pad. “You want to clear these up? We might as well call it a night.”
~*~
Pulling into the driveway, Lamar frowned when he saw that the house was dark. Aeren had still been sleeping when his alarm rang, so he’d slipped out silently, fully expecting Aeren to still be there when he got home. Lamar could tell from the feel of the air around him as the door swung open that he’d been wrong.
Tossing his leather coat over the back of the recliner, Lamar stalked through the house, checking each room before dropping onto the sofa with a disgruntled sigh.
Aeren was gone.
Hitting the search function on the cell phone, he typed inAfter Nineand hitcallwhen the number popped up. He waited impatiently as the line rang seven times, then growled under his breath when the generic after-hours recording picked up and reminded him of the business hours followed by a beep.
With almost three hours left before the club would open, Lamar stripped out of the slacks and dress shirt he’d worn into the precinct and stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot water streamed over his tired body.
Leaning back against the still-chilled tiles of the shower wall, one soap-slick hand drifted down to wrap around his dick as Lamar’s eyes drifted closed. The hot-as-hell memory of Aeren’s pink-flushed dick spurting up onto his chest as he rode Lamar’s mouth, his tight hole convulsing around Lamar’s tongue was all it took for his dick to spring to life, unloading thick white stripes across the gray tile after only a couple of strokes.
Shaking his head at how little it took for him to get off to thoughts of the slender blonde, Lamar rinsed his hand and reached for the body wash to finish up.
Stepping out of his personal SUV, Lamar glanced around the well-lit parking lot and took notice of the heavy security presence. Ms. Clauneot clearly wasn’t taking any chances of a repeat once the crime scene was released. Stepping to the back of the short line, he shifted his weight subconsciously as he waited for his turn to speak to the door attendant.
“’I was hoping to see Aeren,” Lamar said quietly when a buxom young blond greeted him with a warm smile.
“I see,” she said, her smile faltering. “You have a membership?”
Oh.
Right.
“Ah, no,” he murmured. “I’m, ah, a friend. I wanted to check on him.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her smile remained fixed. “Of course. You have identification?”
Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he opened it to display his driver’s license, which, not coincidentally, also revealed his detective shield pinned to the leather opposite it.
“Mr. Cooper,” she read aloud. “If you would have a seat in the parlor?” She gestured to a large, muscular man who was stepping forward. “Marco would be happy to accompany you.”
“Thank you.” Lamar followed Marco to the same entry where he and Genov had waited for Ms. Clauneot on their first visit and seated himself on one of the dainty cushioned benches that lined the wall. He was remarkably unsurprised when it was the owner who appeared instead of Aeren.
“Detective,” Mandy greeted, cool amusement coloring her voice. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Lamar swallowed a sigh. “Nice to see you, ma’am.”
