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“Mutilation?” Fletch frowns. “You said they violated him. Now you’re saying mutilated?”
“Can’t it be both?” she asks in response. “Mr. McGregor’s penis was flayed, Detectives.”
“Flayed?” With a feminine squeak, Fletch drops his hand to cup his cock. “Like, his skin was—”
“Peeled back,” she makes an ‘uh-huh’ sound in the back of her throat. “I’ve not yet ascertained what blade was used for that, but I find it extremely difficult to believe they used anything larger than a pocket knife.”
“So now we have three weapons.” Fletch looks at me with a pale face. “Flayed!”
“Three weapons,” Minka confirms. “Which is more evidence to suggest more than one killer. I don’t yet have an official cause of death; he could have died from any one of his injuries. So Aubree and I will go back through it and try to figure out which put him out permanently. Though I’m not entirely sure you need that, at this point.”
“Not particularly.” Fletch continues to hold his cock. “So, what weknowis that we have at least one unknown person who was, we assume, extremely angry at Paul McGregor. So angry, in fact, that they chopped, skinned, and dismembered a man. Yes?”
“Looks that way, Detective. I’ve still got Paul McGregor’s body in my autopsy room. I stepped away to get coffee and take a minute to sit, then I’ll go back and keep working the case.”
Translation: her knee hurts and her stomach is empty.
“Where’s Aubree?”
“I sent her home for a couple hours.” Minka’s breath comes out on a tired sigh. “There was no need for her to be awake. We already know the guy is dead, and mostly, we know how he died.
“I sent off for tox and labs,” she continues. “They won’t come back for a couple more hours—though, to be completely honest, I don’t expect to get much from them except what he ate for dinner last night. That basically means I have time to read these stupid reports from accounting, since the new mayor won’t stop nagging me to get on top of that. And since numbers use a different part of my brain, I figure I’ll do it now with a cup of coffee, while I let McGregor rest and Archer is being a stubborn pig.”
“Oop. There it is.” Fletch’s gaze swings to me as he sniggers. “Wanna tell me why you’re fighting, Delicious? Because he’s not talking, and you’re currently available, so maybe we should put away your accounting brain and head out on a breakfast date instead. I’d be willing to comfort you in your time of need.”
“No thanks.”
She says it so baldly, so calmly, Fletch visibly deflates, and in my chest, my heart swells.
“Guys annoy me in general,” she murmurs. “I knew that before Arch, but there he goes, reminding me why there are people in this world flaying men.”
“Harsh,” Fletcher exhales. “Damn, girl. I never hurt you.”
I never hurt her either!I want to shout it. I want her to knowourhurt right now is ofhercreation.
But that would mean opening a door I’m not willing to step through yet. So I shut my mouth and wrap my hands around the steering wheel in front of me.
“If, and when, I get more on McGregor, I’ll forward it to you. But until then, I’m taking a minute to move other work off my desk. Aubree will be in around ten this morning, and I’ll be back with McGregor in about twenty minutes. Other than that, I’m not sure we have anything left to discuss.”
Before she hangs up, I bring my arm across and smack Fletch’s shoulder to get his attention. Angry, his eyes come to me in question.
So, like a fucking idiot, I rub my stomach and hope he understands.
Rolling his eyes, he says to Minka, “I ordered some food for you just before calling.”
“For me?”
“Well, for Aubree, actually.” He grits his teeth, and lies as well as I do. “Just some eggs and shit to keep her going. But since she’s not there, you should eat it. I’ll call Aubs and make sure she’s getting something at home.”
“I can just save her food for when she arrives.”
“It’s scrambled eggs, Mayet. Nobody likes cold eggs. They’ll be delivered to you soon, so help yourself and fuel up. How’s your knee feeling?”
“Fine.” Her tone turns immediately dismissive and short. “I’m hanging up now. I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and Archer?” She falls silent for a moment. Commanding and bewitching. “Thanks for breakfast. And if you want to know about my knee, ask your damn self.”
The call ends, and the car fills with a loaded silence. Then, barking out a laugh, Fletch tosses my phone into my lap and shoves out of the car.
I follow him, sliding the keys and my hands into my pockets. “Stop laughing at my expense, asshole.”
