Page 21 of Crocodile Tears

Finally, Alexander gave in. He put his hand on the top button … and then his manner changed. He looked up at Josiah through his eyelashes and shot him a provocative smile.

“You know, I don’t usually put out on a first date, Investigator Raine. But since you asked so nicely…”

He proceeded to undo his shirt slowly, teasingly, button by button, keeping eye contact with Josiah throughout. Baumann cleared her throat uncomfortably as the act took on an air of intimacy, more like a striptease than a medical exam.

Josiah stared the IS out, refusing to be provoked, although he was amused by the sheer cheek of it.

Finally, Alexander peeled open the garment, eased it off his shoulders, and let it drop onto a nearby chair. He had a smooth, waxed chest and a perfectly toned torso – clearly, he worked out regularly, which fitted his story about seeing a personal trainer.

“Like what you see, sir?” he asked flirtatiously.

Josiah saw through him; that performance had been pure distraction, designed to hide something he didn’t want him to see. “Turn around,” he ordered.

Alexander hesitated. Suddenly, he looked like a scared child, all his bravado gone. Then he lowered his gaze and, very slowly, did as he was told.

Baumann took a sharp intake of breath, and Josiah’s jaw tightened. Alexander’s back was covered in a frenzy of bite marks, red-and-purple bruises, and furious scratches. They were so vivid that Josiah could even make out the shape of fingers around a few of the bruises.

The wounds covered Alexander’s torso from the top of his shouldersto the waistband of his jeans. Now the way he’d been sitting made sense – he’d been leaning forward to make as little contact as possible between his injured flesh and the chair.

“Shit,” Baumann said. “That’s so fucked up.”

“Okay, you can turn back now,” Josiah said quietly.

Alexander swivelled around, his head bowed.

“I want you to do a full physical examination, Doctor Baumann,” Josiah ordered, “Including an internal exam. I want photographs and documented evidence of all his injuries.”

“An internal exam?” Baumann queried.

“If you’d prefer to wait for the duty doctor, that’s fine.”

“I’ll do it,” Baumann snapped, stomping off towards a nearby cupboard to fetch her equipment.

“Alexander, look at me, please,” Josiah commanded.

Alexander raised his head, his pale skin flushed with humiliation.

“You must be in some discomfort. Those are nasty injuries,” Josiah said gently.

“What makes you think they’re injuries?” Alexander challenged. “Maybe they’re the result of some particularly passionate sex.”

He snorted. “A love bite here or there, or the occasional bruise – sure – but what you’ve got there” – he waved his hand at Alexander’s back – “could only be the result of a sustained assault. Am I wrong?”

Alexander blinked fiercely a couple of times, and then dropped his gaze again. “No,” he said quietly. “I’m just not used to anyone defining what happens to me in those terms.”

“Dacre obviously abused you recently – within the past two or three days, I’d say, judging by the colour of the bruises. It would be understandable if you’d snapped and killed him as a result of that abuse. Is there anything you want to confess?”

Alexander shot him a reproving look. “You’re assuming Elliot did this to me. That’s careless of you, Investigator Raine.”

That brought Josiah up short. “Dacre didn’t cause your injuries?”

“No,” Alexander said firmly.

“Then how did you come by those injuries?”

“Elliot liked to show me,” Alexander said unexpectedly.

“Show you?” Baumann returned, holding her medical kit. “What do you mean?”

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