Page 18 of The Devil's Embrace

“Who?” Amory frowned.

“Effy Gar. He’s a Fly Ball player. Calix loves him.”

“Not anymore,” Cal corrected.

“Come on,” Bruce clicked his tongue at him. “You can’t keep letting the past control your life like this.”

“He’s right,” Amory surprised them both by agreeing. Until she looked him dead in the eye and added, “Only the guilty can’t let go.”

“Officer Paige,” Bruce scolded, but she merely shrugged, hands resting on her belt buckle.

“I mean it. He’s innocent, right? It’s about time he acted like it. That’s all I’m saying.”

It was obvious Bruce didn’t believe her, but he chose to pretend, turning back to Calix. He slapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “That’s the right idea. Get back out there and live a little. You’ve worked hard these past seven years. It’s time for you to have a little fun. Take a break, go on some dates—”

Cal brushed him off. “I am not going on a date with your forensic scientist, Bruce,” Calix stated dryly, only for someone to clear their throat behind them.

A man dressed in gray slacks and a buttoned navy shirt stood there holding a black case in his left hand. His hair was an interesting shade of silver that seemed to sparkly yellow and purple when it caught the light. The badge dangling from his neck by a violet lanyard explained who he was with a photo and his name, and he smiled politely once he had their attention.

“I typically prefer to be introduced to the men I’m being volunteered to go out with, but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception—After my date with that guy over there." He motioned toward the tree and then held out his free hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective. I’m Mitri Meadows.”

It was on the tip of Cal’s tongue to reply with, not interested, but that wouldn’t be entirely fair to the other guy. He’d walked in on them talking about him behind his back, after all. “Calix Valimir.”

N.I.M. finished up and sent a report to Calix’s multi-slate, the ding interrupting whatever weirdness had been about to transpire. He pulled away and clicked the screen on the small rectangular device, scanning through the information just collected.

“There’s something under his tongue,” he announced, moving toward the head. One of the other lingering officers held out a box of gloves and he took a pair, slipping into them as he crouched down in front of the grotesque remains of Williams Gorty.

Since the lips were sewn shut, it wasn’t as simple as sticking his fingers in there to recover the object, but he took a close look at all of the visible marks.

“According to N.I.M.,” he explained once he felt the others step up behind him, “the lips were sewn first, then the lefteardrum and the right were punctured in that order. Finally, the eyes were taken. His throat was cut last, meaning he was alive throughout all of that, though it’s unclear if he was awake for it or not.”

“Let’s hope not,” Amory stated. “Poor bastard.”

“Poor bastard that liked touching his children behind closed doors,” Mitri drawled almost absently, snapping a pair of gloves on himself with a bit of flourish.

Cal glanced at him over his shoulder with a frown.

“What? You haven’t heard?” Mitri glanced between them. “Seriously? It’s all over the news.”

Bruce swore and stormed off. He could be heard making a call as he disappeared back down the path, no doubt on his way to check if what the scientist was saying was true.

Calix stood. “Fill me in.”

“Sure thing, Detective.” Mitri switched places with him so he could get to work while he spoke. “According to the reports, it was discovered that our friend here liked to take the edge off by playing games with his youngest daughter. Games that typically involved the removal of clothing and inappropriate touching.”

“What about the oldest?” Amory asked.

Mitri shook his head and swabbed Gorty’s ears. “There’s no evidence he did the same to the oldest, but reporters are coming up with theories.”

“His oldest was in and out of the hospital frequently,” Calix said. “She wouldn’t make for an easy target.”

“The youngest, however, would have been swept to the side by the rest of the family and medical staff. Attention always falls on the sick one,” Mitri agreed. “They were given proof in the form of photographs taken on hidden cameras. Obviously the worst of it is blurred since they weren’t about to post that on national television.”

“You trying to say reporters have souls?” Amory made a shocked sound.

Mitri chuckled. “Just telling you what I saw on my way here, that’s all.” He stood. “I’m all set. Have this bagged and moved to the station. I’ll go on ahead and prepare for it.”

“You heard the man.” Amory motioned to the two officers standing nearby who quickly got to work. “Anything important you think you should tell us now?”

---