nose.
Lifting a hand to shield his nostrils, he ventured forward into the tableau of pain. The mangled body of the man, now stained with blood and his own body fluids, as well as secretions from his relatives, showed signs of grotesque abuse.
Like children denied the last bite of succulent candy, Aunt Dory and Uncle Myer stood there, silent and sullen.
Her desires not yet fully sated, Aunt Dory still quivered with need.
Uncle Myer, for all his protestations, looked well glutted.
Buffoons.
They lacked all finesse, and neglected all sense of advantageous detail.
Walking past them and the bloodied remains, Oren approached a mahogany cabinet. On the outside, apparatuses of various use hung in arrangement according to size and application. Accoutrements of torture filled the many drawers. The amount of paraphernalia his relatives had procured through the years belied their ability to control themselves.
After searching for the best device to suit his purposes, Oren retrieved a long surgical blade from a golden hook. From a velvet-lined drawer, he withdrew elbow-length rubber gloves. Inside double doors at the base of the cabinet, he took out a long plastic apron.
His mouth trembled. His hands shook. Deforming a corpse added no felicities to his perversion, he assured himself.
But he’d do this.
The end result would bring immeasurable pleasure to him.
It would be the best joke of the century.
Ann sat on the edge of his desk, flirting without meaning, annoying for the fun of it.
“Luther, Luther, Luther.”
“What?” he asked, trying to concentrate on his papers despite her physical disruption.
“After all the women who’ve thrown themselves at you.” She tsked. “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
Laying his pen aside, Luther looked up at her. “Really, Ann? Harassment from the woman who’s sleeping with Morty Vance?”
Umbrage put her shoulders back. “His name is Mort, not Morty.”
“Whatever.”
After a moment, she treated Luther to a Cheshire cat smile. “He’s adorable, isn’t he?”
Not in the least. “If you say so.”
She stood, stepped behind his chair, and rubbed his stiff shoulder muscles. “So what about you?”
“What about me?” God that felt good. Lately, he stayed so knotted up, he felt like a walking lump of tension.
Leaning around to see his face, she specified, “Are you sleeping with little Miss Sunshine?”
He wished. “You’re awfully nosy all of a sudden.”
“There’s a method to my madness.”
“Yeah, and that’d be?”
She went back to rubbing, which kept her out of his view. “Have you seen Gaby lately?”
“No. She wanted a few days to herself.” Gut instinct started churning. But then, he always felt uneasy when thinking of Gaby. “Now why do you ask?”
“Huh.” Stepping to the side of the desk again, Ann lifted a wrist and looked at her watch. “Our shift is up. Are you ready to go?”
Dodging his question? “I don’t think so. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
She wrapped both her arms around one of his and tried to lead him toward the door. “I’ll tell you, but only after we’re outside and in your car.”
Planting his big feet, Luther refused to budge. “My car, huh? Should I take that to mean you’ll be riding somewhere with me?”
“Yup. To Mort’s.” She cleared her throat. “Because that’s where Gaby’s at.”
Oh hell. The way she said that . . . Luther shut down his computer and grabbed up his suit coat. “Let’s go.”
Trotting in her high heels to keep up, Ann said, “Just that easy?”
Where Gaby was concerned, Luther had learned a second’s hesitation could be too long. “Yeah, just that easy.”
“She has you twisted up pretty good, Luther. I’m not altogether sure that’s a good thing.” Once they were in the hallway, she pulled back on his arm. “Slow down, please. My shoes aren’t meant for sprints.”
Luther moderated his pace, but his determination burned. They stepped outside to a setting sun and humid skies. “Okay. So what’s going on?”
“Well, two things, really. And I want you to hear me out, okay?”
“Fine.” He opened the passenger door for her, practically tucked her into the car, and hurried around to the driver’s door.
Ann laughed. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Gaby’s visiting with Bliss. From what Mort said, she’ll be there a little while yet.”
“Unless she decides to leave.”
“Well, yeah. She does make mighty abrupt decisions, and her mood switches faster than light.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware of Gaby’s personality quirks.” Grim, Luther started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “So what specifically about Gaby being at Mort’s made you think we needed to get over there?”
“You won’t like this.”
“That much I already know.”
Ann half turned in her seat to face him. “Given what Mort overheard of the conversation between the girls, Gaby wants to know the particulars of being a prostitute.”
“So? She’s always curious about . . .” Luther trailed off. Ann didn’t need to know about Gaby’s preoccupation about, and inexperience with, sex. “Never mind.”
She waved that away. “I don’t think you’re getting me, Luther.” Ann touched his arm. “Gaby wants to know what she should do, and how she should act, to convince others that she’s a hooker.”
Disbelief slammed into Luther. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Damn her. So that was her harebrained plan?
At least Mort and Ann had done as he’d asked, and notified him posthaste of her foolhardy plan.
Resigned to Gaby’s perfidies, Luther said, “She hopes to set herself up as a hooker in order to catch the cretin who’d killed Lucy.”
“I think so. That was Mort’s impression. He couldn’t think of any way to dissuade her, so he called me, so I could tell you . . .”
Striving for a calm that was well out of his reach, Luther said, “I appreciate it. Thanks.”
Ann sat back. “Well, bravo. And here I thought you’d be up in arms about it.”
“There’s no need to get upset because she’s not doing it.”
“She’s not?”
“Hell no.”
Seconds ticked by as Ann studied him. She settled back in her seat and folded her hands over her lap. “Well, I’m curious as to how you plan to stop her. From what I’ve seen, Gaby is an unstoppable dynamo who does just as she damn well pleases.”
“I’ll stop her.” Luther flexed his hands on the wheel. One way or another, he’d force her to see his reasoning. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Luther . . .” Ann’s hesitation diverted his attention.
“What?”
“You know I love you. As a friend and partner, I mean. I can’t help but worry about you.”
He’d said as much to Gaby; friends worried, and nothing could change that. “What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t want to anger you. But you’re so eaten up with this girl, I’m not sure you’re seeing things as clearly
