JDatE 2 Excerpt
“We counted 964 stab wounds.”
John bent over and examined the corpse. He asked, “Did you find a cell phone on him?”
The detective nodded.
“Okay. Way I figure it, the first thing you do in a case like this is figure out whether the guy deserved it. For instance, I was at a movie last weekend and an hour into the film, the asshole in front of me pulls out his cell phone and makes a call. You understand what I’m sayin’? It’s not like he forgot about his phone and it rang. He actually pulled it out and dialed the number. ‘Franky? It’s me. Yeah, I’m watchin’ that Superman movie…’ I mean, I can see stabbin’ that guy a thousand times, no problem. This guy’s phone, was it crammed up his anus? Because if it was I’m thinking this may be the same guy.”
I closed my eyes and ran my hand through my hair.
“Look,” I said, through a sigh, “they called us here for a reason.”
“That’s right,” said the man in the lab coat, speaking for the first time. “Dr. Boren, we are convinced, was killed because of his experiments. He was shunned by the scientific community as a madman. But we believe the work he was doing, though grotesque, was… evolutionary.”
“That’s more like it,” I said. “Who else was in the building this morning?”
“Just his daughter, Rachel. She also was his lab assistant. Oh, here she comes now.”
I pictured a small, studious type with short cropped hair and glasses riding the bridge of her nose. I could not have expected the vision of sensual womanhood that appeared in the doorway.
Titties. Titties, round and bouncy like the fruit of a titty bush. Rachel strode tittily through the door, shrugging her mane of chestnut hair in a cascade of curls that fell gently over her titties, like a cool flow of water over titties.
“Titties,” said the detective. Or at least, that’s what I heard. “Titties, titties titties. Titties, titties titties titties.”
John leaned over, whispering into my ear. “Titties. Titties titties titties titties titties titties titties. Titties?”
I grabbed a clipboard off the counter and held it in front of my crotch to hide my bulging erection.
“I’m John,” said John, making no effort to hide the engorged manhood that stood upright like the stiff branch of an erection tree.
“And I’m David.”
“Whoops,” said John, from behind me, a smarmy lilt in his voice. “My pants seem to have fallen off.”
I gritted my teeth.
Bastard.
