TnT Ch. 05

* * * *

June knew she did not want to see the mess that awaited them in the hotel room. But she told herself that this was her job, and she had better get used to it. Eventually, she figured, she would grow the cast-iron stomach Riaz seemed to possess.

Riaz ignored the bystanders and reporters as he led his partner to the hotel entrance. The lobby was abuzz with a dozen conversations, and more reporters were within, attempting to get information from the police or hotel staff. A couple of them all but pounced upon seeing Riaz, but he brushed past without a word.

Two uniformed police officers stood guard outside the hotel room on the second floor. They gave quick nods as Riaz and June revealed their badges. For a moment, Riaz paused, giving June and look.

"You can stay out in the hall if you want to."

She shook her head. "Want to, but not going to," she affirmed. "You're not gonna be around to hold my hand forever."

Her comment actually made him smile. "Okay, let's go."

He entered the room carefully, instantly noting the large black body bag upon a folding metal gurney beside the bed. Blood was everywhere, soaked into the sheets and pillows, splattered across the walls and floor. That so much blood could have come from a single human body was astounding.

Crime scene photographers were still busy taking pictures. Another man clad in the unit's blue jumpsuit stood to one side, jotting on a tablet with a stylus. "Manny," Riaz called, gaining his attention.

"Detective Parande," Manny responded with a wry smile. "Haven't seen you in a while. 'Course, I was on vacation in the Bahamas. Sure wasn't easy coming back to something like this."

"I know not of this 'vacation' of which you speak," Riaz remarked dryly. "That is a foreign word to me."

Manny chuckled and looked past the seasoned investigator. "Hiya, Barret," he said, noting the younger woman's pale face as she looked about the scene. "If you're gonna throw up, I've got an evidence bag you can use."

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she said in a strained voice.

"Tell me something I want to hear," Riaz prompted the man.

The crime scene investigator took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Think I'm fresh out of that," he said. "But I can tell you what happened."

"I'm all ears."

Manny gestured to the bed. "Two perps," he said. "They left plenty of footprints around the bed and going in and out of the bathroom."

He moved to the ichor-soaked bed and took a plastic bag from one of the tubs that had been placed nearby. He handed the bag to Riaz; within was a driver's license.

"The victim is a black male, presumably Hollister Quincy James, 26. Judging by the presence of – I think, anyway – what appear to be breast implants, I'd say the vic was a pre-op transsexual."

"You 'think?'" June asked.

Many leveled his eyes on her. "I've seen car crash victims who hit a truck going seventy that were more recognizable as human beings than this mess."

June winced. "Okay. Go on."

Manny indicated another plastic tub, holding two bags containing the weapons. "Your weapons. Garden-variety claw-backed hammer and a standard woodsman's hatchet. You can buy those at any Home Depot. I'm not even going to guess how often the vic was struck, but the damage was massive. Exposed bones, penetrated internal organs, one hand was severed, the corpse was almost beheaded . . . you get the picture."

Riaz stepped carefully around the bed, squatting down to inspect numerous smeared footprints left in blood on the carpet. "You sure there were two attackers?"

"I can even tell you what size shoes they wore," he said.

Riaz narrowed his eyes dubiously as he stood. "Already? Just from these footprints?"

"Nope," Manny said, then indicated the open bathroom door. "Take a look inside."

June jumped to it, stepping through the doorway. More evidence bags, larger ones, lay stacked inside a plastic tub. She picked one of them up and returned to the main room. "Adidas," she said. "Look brand new, too."

Manny nodded. "That's what I figured," he agreed. "Two sets of shoes, mens' size ten. Also, two full-body diving suits, two pairs of black socks and two pairs of gloves. All nicely soaked in bleach."

Riaz breathed out. "Son of a bitch."

Manny nodded again. "These guys knew how to clean up."

"Prints?" Riaz asked.

"Loads," Manny responded. "But this is a hotel room. There are prints all over the place, from the vic, the staff, former tenants--"

"I want every one of them checked and double-checked."

"We'll be thorough, Riaz. I promise."

Riaz took a breath and let it out. "These guys aren't going to kill again," he vowed.

* * * *

Interviews with the staff yielded practically nothing. The room had been booked over the phone by a man and paid for in advance using a Visa card. The clerk on duty at the front desk said the pass card to the room had been picked up by a man in a long black coat, wearing glasses and a baseball hat. He'd had a mustache and seemed a little hefty, the clerk remembered, but that was all the detail she could recall. The ledger had been signed "Will Smith."

Cute, Riaz thought darkly.

The hotel had pitiable security cameras. They only watched the lobby and back loading dock. Riaz watched the footage of a man in a black trenchcoat as he approached the desk. It could easily have been one of the twins, he knew, padding his shoulders beneath the coat to appear more bulky. Likewise, hair could have been tucked up inside the baseball cap, and the mustache could have been fake.

But none of that mattered. Trials weren't won by 'could haves.'

Tracking the Visa revealed it was a pre-paid card purchased at a convenience store down the street at eight o'clock the previous night. That store's security footage showed the same obscured man in a black trenchcoat and baseball cap. He had purchased the card with cash.

Lead after lead was dashed. The Tolomeo twins had been meticulous.

"How old are these damn kids?" June asked in exasperation as they once again sat at their desks. "Twenty-three? And they've just committed the perfect murder. Three of them, in fact."

"Nothing's perfect," Riaz said, stifling a yawn. He glanced to the old digital clock on his desk; the red numbers glowed 6:13. For most people in the same time zone, it was dinner time, yet he was still working. "These kids are amateurs; they slipped up somewhere. We just have to find out where."

His hip vibrated briefly, making him frown. He retrieved his phone, seeing that he had a new text message. He took a quick glance, surprised at what he saw.

"Hot date with the wife?" June asked, reading his expression.

Riaz snorted, but his lack of a direct answer made June wonder. Instead, he said, "You know, it's been a long day. We really can't do anything but wait to hear back from forensics, so . . . why don't you head home? Take Sophie out for drinks or something."

June shot up from her desk. "Don't have to tell me twice," she declared, heading for the stairs.

"Keep your phone on!" Riaz called after his partner. Then he looked back to his own phone and the new message.

It had been sent by Susan.

"Was thinking about your call the other night. I'm free tonight if you want to get together. Just like old times."

Riaz tried not to be helpful. "Old times" could have just been an innocuous turn of phrase, or it could mean . . .now who's sending who a booty call?

Riaz hesitated only a moment. It was strange to be recalcitrant about meeting up with his former lover now, since the divorce was practically final. He supposed it was the lingering sense of awkwardness; it was Susan he had been with when the private investigator hired by his wife took the incriminating photos.

But that had been months ago. The embarrassment was gone, or should be. She was just a lovely young woman, and he was just a lonely older man.

He dialed.

* * * *

Riaz had been a little surprised at the genuinely excited tone in Susan's voice when he had called. She sounded as if she actually wanted to meet him, as opposed to giving him a gentle but unmistakable brush-off. After a quick conversation, they agreed that he would pick her up at her apartment and they would go for dinner.

His natural cynicism made Riaz wonder if his former lover's readiness to see him was due to a dry spell in her own sex life. Susan had once told him that she started going stir crazy if she went a week without real sex, and "real" for her meant a living, functional penis. She was an attractive woman, and very outgoing; if she wanted to get laid, she would. So why, after their last conversation, did she suddenly seem so enthusiastic?

Don't question it, Riaz,he told himself.Just enjoy the fact that a woman nearly half your age is willing to spend time with you. Again.

He had thought briefly about picking up some roses on the way, or a simple bouquet so as not to appear presumptuous. But he was too pragmatic for that. Susan had already voiced her interest; he had no reason – yet – to woo her. At the least, he had gone to his apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes.

She appeared in the doorway of her apartment clad in the tightest of low-rider jeans and a long-sleeved half top that revealed her lean, athletic torso. Long brunette hair cascaded down her back, a few teasing tendrils dangling over her oval face. The sultry smile she wore was one he had not seen in quite a while.

The effect of her appearance made him blink. "Uh, am I at the right address?"

Susan rolled her eyes playfully. "Been a while since you've seen me like this, huh?" she asked. "Not since our first date, really."

Riaz nodded, reminding himself to look at the stars later that night and count the lucky ones. "It has been a while."

She stepped close, as if the intimacy between them had never been broken. He noticed her eye shadow was the same color as her jeans. "Been a while for a lot of things," she said suggestively.

He swallowed. "I was thinking Italian for dinner," he said quickly.

She smiled cattily, settling her hand to his chest as she breezed past. "And I'm thinking Indian for desert," she answered, before bouncing past.

How many times do I have to remind her that I'm Pakistani,he thought. He watched after her a moment as she headed down to his car, before realizing he should be following.Right. As if that really mattered . . . .

* * * *

Their conversation was surprisingly easy and light. Neither of them made mention of the divorce, Riaz's family, or anything else that might have been even remotely painful. Instead, they spoke in general terms about what they had been doing the past few months; work, school, friends, events.

They shared seafood alfredo and baked orange roughy at a locally-lauded restaurant, followed up by a slice of turtle cheesecake and accompanied by a few cocktails each. As their forks dueled over the last few bites of dessert, the alcohol they had imbibed finally got the better of them. While neither was drunk, they ceased to be careful with their words.

"This is just like our first date," Susan said, her soft face colored slightly from the banana daiquiris she had imbibed. Her green-brown eyes flashed decadently. "You remember that?"

Riaz chuckled. "You say that like you think I've suddenly gained twenty years," he said, scooping a bite of cheesecake away from Susan's fork. "Do I really look that old?"

She frowned and pouted. "No, I didn't mean it like that," she said. "You don't look old. Youneverlook old. Shit, half the guys my age aren't anywhere near as built as you."

He studied her pretty face. "You're looking pretty good yourself," he said.

She sucked off a bite of cheesecake from her fork in a very suggestive way. "You remember what we did that first time?"

Riaz stared at her, his natural cynicism making him wonder why she would bring it up, if she wasn't prepared to repeat the experience. "Well, let's see. We had dinner, went looking for a bar that, according to my GPS, was right in the middle of the highway, then, um, parked somewhere for a while, then I took you home."

She stared at him, eyes glittering mischievously. "I was thinking of the 'parked somewhere for a while' part," she said.

Riaz breathed in, feeling a stirring in his groin which was almost like and alien sensation. His gaze dipped and he put down his fork. "I hope you're not just teasing me, Susan," he said.

She sat back, leaving her fork on the table. "Have I ever teased you without following through?"

He laughed softly in self-admonishment. "No, actually, you've always been . . . refreshingly direct. It's just that, after I called you the other day . . . ."

Susan rolled her eyes. "I was tired," she explained dismissively. "Grad school's a bitch. And it was the first I'd heard from you in, what, three months? What was I supposed to think?"

He nodded. "You're right. It was out of the blue. Sorry. I'd had a hard day, and I wanted to talk to someone, and I'd been thinking about you . . ." he exhaled heavily. "God, have I been thinking about you."

A slow smile spread across her face; the sultriness returned. She leaned forward across the table and scooped up a piece of creamy cheesecake with the tip of a finger. He watched as she sucked it into her mouth, then licked her lips in a seductively protracted way.

"I've been thinking about you, too," she said huskily.

Their eyes met. Dinner was over. Susan's eyes blazed. "Take me somewhere and fuck me," she whispered. "Just like the first time."

Riaz cleared his throat and sat back, making a fierce effort to appear collected. He searched for their waiter and caught the young man's attention. "Check, please."

* * * *

With his knowledge of the city, it constituted little effort for Riaz to find a suitable spot for their imminent coupling. He drove up the highway to where a new business complex was being built. The parking lot was spacious, yet deserted, with towering lamp posts that cast harsh light across the fresh asphalt below. Knowing that Susan was something of an exhibitionist, and wanting the light to better see everything in detail, Riaz parked at the base of one such post.

They practically grappled, sharing heated kisses, nipping at one another, as they struggled to remove clothing. Riaz's shirt ripped open, exposing his muscular chest, while Susan jerked off her top to allow milky breasts to bounce free. Riaz groped them before pulling the young woman against him, latching his mouth to a stiff pink nipple. She hissed with passion and clutched his head against her chest.

He suddenly pushed her back while reaching down to lower his seat. "Get those jeans off," he growled.

Susan grinned, also reclining her seat. With the euphoric look of expectation on her face, she unsnapped her jeans and curled her legs back to her chest. The garment slipped off in short order, along with her black pumps. Everything fell to the floor. Proud of her nudity, Susan stretched out, casually parting her legs to reveal her smooth-shaved sex.

"What do you want, baby?" she cooed.

Riaz patted the console between the seats. "I want your ass up here," he dictated.

The woman did not hesitate to pivot in her seat and lift her bare behind onto the console. Naturally, she parted her legs widely, settling on dainty foot to the dash, the other to the back of Riaz's seat. In the stark light of the lamp overhead, her pussy was fully and unabashedly revealed. Pale skin contrasted with brilliant pink inner flesh as Riaz parted her lips.

Despite his almost palpable desperation, Riaz took his time. Susan was a very attractive young woman, brazen, sexual, and uncommonly honest. Her directness was what first attracted him more than a year before. In over twenty years of marriage, Susan had been the only woman enticing enough to give him the excuse to stray.

"You gonna lick my kitty?" she asked playfully, then effected a purring sound.

Riaz paused amid a chuckle, although he did not remove his fingertips from her slick labia. That was another thing he had found endearing about Susan: her playfulness. It had been such an erotic contrast to the soberness of his wife.

He locked eyes with his lover as brought his mouth to her sex. "Yes, I'm going to eat your pussy," he said, then slipped out his tongue.

Susan sighed in passion, groping her breasts, pinching the nipples until they stood out, thick, swollen, and red. She pushed her smooth mound against Riaz's mouth, savoring the feel of his questing tongue as it lapped between her increasingly slippery folds.

He pushed her legs up, becoming more aggressive by the moment. Susan yielded as she always did, and pressed her feet to the ceiling of the car's cabin. This not only opened her pussy fully, but exposed her dark, puckered anus. She gasped, then cooed with a giggle as Riaz rimmed her, swirling the firm tip of his tongue around in small circles against her sphincter.

"Never did that before," she whispered heatedly.

He smiled from between her thighs. "Guess I'm feeling a little dirty tonight."

"I think I like this kind of dirty," she breathed, pressing a hand to the back of his head. Another hot breath escaped her lips as he resumed licking her anus. She tensed briefly, then growled in pleasure when his tongue pushed just inside her ass.

Holding the young woman's firm cheeks apart, Riaz licked from her anus to her clit in long, swiping motions of his tongue. Over and over he did this, as Susan's panting steamed the windows and her thighs tensed with the impending rush of orgasm. He swirled the tip of a finger in the fluid gathered at the entrance to her tunnel and then, while covering her clit with his mouth and sucking hard, suddenly shoved that finger into her ass.

Susan's eyes flashed open, and she gasped loudly at the intrusion. One of her hands slapped to the dashboard, causing the glove compartment to tumble open. The other gripped the back of her own seat. She stared down between her legs. The pistoning of her lover's finger in her rectum, combined with the avid suckling of her clitoris magnified the already mounting rush of orgasm, bringing it on within the space of a mere few moments.

Shouting unintelligible babble that included vague references to dead holy men, Susan bucked against Riaz's mouth. Her feet kicked the ceiling, her hand clawed the fabric of the seat, her nails left scratches across the plastic dash cover. She thrashed back and forth, announcing her orgasm with a banshee's wail.

Riaz sucked her tender, saturated flesh for a few moments as Susan pantingly recovered. He eased his finger from her ass, then sat back to remove his slacks. His cock was at half mast already and thickened with anticipation as he positioned himself upon his knees. He looked down at the contrast between his dark, hooded penis and Susan's pale skin. It had always turned him on.

A few strokes of his hand, coupled with the slick heat of Susan's cunt against the head, and his cock was hard and ready. He pushed into her gently, feeling the snug warm tunnel expand around his girth. He adored the sight of her lips caressing his shaft, like slippery little hands pulling him in.

But after only a few strokes within her, Susan stopped him, a hand pressed against his muscular abdomen. "Wait," she said, giving a sheepish smile. "I'm a little uncomfortable. All the blood's rushing to my head."

He chuckled again and withdrew, then reached down to help Susan into a sitting position. "You want to go to my place?"

She sucked her bottom lip, eyes roaming over his features. In that moment, with disheveled hair hanging about her glowing face, she was the epitome of sexiness for Riaz. "Later," she said lustily. "We're not done here yet."