Chapter 2
"So he was strangled?" Greg said to the coroner who shook his graying head.
"Well, yes. But that's not what killed him," Dr. Robbins stated firmly. He indicated the corpses mouth. "Blue around the lips, water in his lungs..."
"He drown. On his front lawn." Nick rolled his eyes. Why couldn't people who drown stay near the water source in which they drown, he thought, as his memory flashed back to the woman who drown in the desert. Or conversely, the scuba diver who didn't drown, but ended up in a tree, dead from blunt force trauma.
Greg grinned at Nick. He knew where his friend's thoughts were going. Nick didn't have to say a thing.
"I've sent a sample of the water to the lab for analysis as well as a blood sample for a tox screen but bets are that he wasn't killed on his lawn."
"Body dump, not the scene of the crime," Nick surmised, rubbing his tired eyes.
"So the perpetrator drowns the guy, strangles him for good measure, hauls him into a vehicle, drives to the vic's house and dumps him on the front lawn," Greg listed off. "Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go through to kill someone."
"Strangled him, or tried to, then drown him," the coroner corrected. "Like what they were using wasn't doing the job, so they had to choose an alternative."
"Perp's making a statement," Nick stated.
"Saying what?" Greg asked the coroner.
"Don't look at me, but the ligature marks on the throat aren't deep enough to have killed him. They were made by something soft, like a small cord of some kind. I can also tell you that these are not the clothes he died in. His back and the back of his legs are all scraped up, like he was dragged over something rough, but his shirt and pants would show no signs of damage. There were tiny pieces of cement embedded in his skin as well as a few slivers of wood. Help me with this," Dr. Robbins gestured to the body.
Nick nodded to Greg so Greg grabbed the body's legs and helped Dr. Robbins roll him onto his side. They could clearly see all the scrape marks. Especially down the legs and feet.
"But you see how they stop here?" the coroner pointed to the middle of the back. "If you grab someone here under the arms…" The coroner let the body back down.
Nick nodded and positioned himself, then grabbing the body just under the arms, he lifted.
Greg squatted down next to the steel table and looked up at the corpse. "Yep. Scratches start right about there and go down the rest of the body."
Nick gently lowered the body to the table. "So he was dragged, and not over the grass of the yard, but over concrete and wood."
"Not so much wood. A lot more concrete. The wood slivers were mostly found in the calves along with quite a bit of post-mortem bruising."
"We got a name yet?" Nick asked.
"Yep." Dr. Robbins picked up his chart and his single crutch. "Steve McQuiston. 28 years old. That's all I've got so far. I'll get to your newest vic tomorrow."
"Okay! Thanks a lot Doc!" Greg said as he headed for the door.
Nick followed him out the door and toward the locker room. "Hey, what's up, Grego? Where you headed in such a hurry?"
"Shifts over. It's my turn to take off on a hot date," he bragged as he shoved open the door and headed for his locker.
"Really? Do tell," Nick coaxed.
"Nope. Not kissing and telling this time. But it's your own fault you know. She said she asked you out once and you turned her down." Greg threw his lab coat into the locker, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off and threw it in after, then quickly pulled out another shirt and sniffed the armpits before pulling it over his head.
"Well, then she can't be all that if I turned her down," Nick grinned, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.
"Oh, I think you were drunk at the time 'cause this girl is hot!" Greg crowed, licked his finger and touched his butt with it. "Smokin'"
"No way! Even if I was drunk, if she was that hot, I would've at least got her number," Nick defended himself.
"That's not what she says." Greg slammed his locker then scrubbed a quick hand through his hair, ruffling it up. "See ya!"
"Hey! Greg!" Nick called as Greg hit the door. "Did today feel better? You know, out in the field?"
Greg paused. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, rumor has it that you feel we're babysitting you too much," Nick paraphrased cautiously. "So I tried to give you a little more space today."
Greg frowned. "It was fine. It's always fine. I don't remember saying anything like that. I mean, sure, I'd like to solo but I know I have to pay my dues. It's cool."
"We're cool then?"
"Yeah. We're cool," Greg replied then disappeared out the door.
Bethany met Greg at her place again. They lounged around the pool for a while, Greg watching as Bethany did a few laps. When he asked about the trophies he'd seen in her apartment. She told him about how she'd almost made the Olympic swim team last year.
"Wow. That's impressive," Greg smiled encouragingly. "Are you going to try again?"
"No," she replied sadly. "I had an accident. Really messed up my trapezius. It's healed well enough for normal things but I'll never compete again."
"I'm sorry," Greg said, reaching up for her. She eagerly straddled his lap and dropped a kiss on his lips. A three year old girl standing nearby, sucking her fingers, said, "Ewwww!"
Greg looked at Bethany ruefully. "Maybe we should go inside. It's getting awfully hot out here."
Bethany kissed him again, grinding her hips into him. "It's going to get awfully hot inside as well." She hopped off him and offered him a hand up off the lounger.
Greg eagerly accepted and they ran back to her apartment hand in hand, laughing. Once inside they hit the bed and began making out immediately.
At some point Bethany's swim top disappeared and Greg was slowing kissing his way down her muscular stomach with a very interesting destination in mind when his cell went off.
He swore as he paused, forehead resting on her belly button. "You have GOT to be Kidding Me!" he said angrily.
Bethany looked none too pleased. "Thought you said no calls next time!"
"I'm sorry! I thought we had everything taken care of!" he swore to her as he slid off the bed and grabbed up his phone.
"Greg. We just pulled up two more murders from two months ago that match the MO of the two guys you and Nick are working on. We may have a serial killer on our hands. I need you to come in and check it out," Catherine ordered.
"Catherine! Two months ago and the killer just struck again? We have plenty of time," he argued.
"Maybe, maybe not. What if the killer is choosing his next victims right now? It could take us a while to figure out his signature. So stop whining and get in here! I promise I'll try to get you out of here early."
Greg sighed. "Fine. I'll be right there."
When he tried to kiss Bethany she turned her face away. "I'm not happy."
"I understand. I'm not real happy either. Please forgive me?" Greg pleaded.
"Now I think I understand why Nick called you immature," she snapped peevishly.
Greg froze. "Nick. When did you see Nick?"
She shoved herself up on the bed and leaned against the headboard. "I'm talking about a while ago. He was in the restaurant with some friends and they were laughing about something. There was a problem with one of their credit cards, so I was going back over to discuss it with them. That's when I overheard them talking about you. But I didn't know you then."
"What'd they say?" Greg demanded, his face growing warm.
Bethany slid her hand up Greg's thigh. "You sure you can't stay?"
Greg grabbed her hand before he lost concentration. "What did they say?"
"Well, it was mostly just Nick," she said as she slid into his lap and began kissing his neck. "I remembered him from before, when he'd turned me down. He said he was tired of babysitting you." She kissed his collar bone. "That if you weren't so immature you'd catch on faster and not make so many mistakes and that he's going to make sure you earn your designation. Emphasis on the earn." She kissed his ear and began running her tongue around the delicate edges. "But Greg, he was drunk at the time and bragging to friends, so I wouldn't read too much into it. You know how guys blow things out of proportion when they're drunk. You've told me many times that he's your friend and friends don't talk like that. I'd put it down as the scotch talking if I were you."
"Yeah," Greg nodded solemnly. "You're probably right. Nick can be an arrogant ass at times."
"Absolutely!" she agreed. "He turned me down, didn't he?" Her hands slid up and down Greg's bare back, nails scrapping lightly against his skin.
"I can't image...wait…Nick said he doesn't remember turning you down," Greg stuttered.
Bethany buried her glittering gaze into Greg's neck so that Greg couldn't see the look in her eyes. "So you did mention me to Nick. I told you guys talk."
"It wasn't like that!" Greg protested. "I wouldn't do that to you!"
She nipped at his throat. "Hey, it's okay. I told you that. It's part of being with a guy who has friends. They talk. I understand." She pressed her body into his. "Stay," she moaned as her hands began to slide under the waist band of his swim trunks.
He leapt backwards off the bed. "I can't," he snapped, his breathing uneven, his head swimming with adrenaline. "I have to go!"
She flopped backward onto the bed as he stripped of the trunks and quickly dressed. "Nick was drunk at the time. I'm sure he doesn't remember me. You'll call me, right?"
"Yeah. I'll call." He grabbed his things and left, slamming the door on the way out.
Bethany just smiled.