Page 59 of Hidden Desires
Blade shook his head, realizing that he was treading in very dangerous territory.
“No. I mean, did the room smell like dude sex when your brother walked in? Maybe that was why he asked what you were up to this morning. Do you think he knows?”
Panic was beginning to set in once again.Fuck, was he going to return home to a big brother stroking his rifle?
“No. I’m sure it just smelled likeman sweatand whiskey.”
“So, in other words, dude sex.”
Ace chuckled and continued checking out the crime scene.
The two of them had come to check out the place where Steven’s body was found.
The dumpster sat around the side of an abandoned structure that had once been a diner, judging by the old, broken-down sign that hung above the door. Today, it was a boarded-up building with a broken window, and miles of desert in every direction.
It wasn’t the most isolated place in all of Nevada, but it was private enough for someone to spend hours torturing Chester’s son without being interrupted. And judging by the photos of Steven’s body, his killer had taken his time.
“So, they found his body tossed in that dumpster, his leg was hanging over the side, perhaps a way for someone to spot the body,” Ace read off his tablet. “Over here, they found footprints. Size twelve men’s. I’m guessing that means the killer carriedSteven over his shoulder. That would indicate significant size and strength.”
Blade followed Ace around the structure, taking note of every surface, every object that looked like it might have been disturbed. Everything seemed in order or as it should look for an abandoned, broken-down piece-of-shit diner that the world forgot about.
Then he saw it.
Hand-drawn on the side of the tool shed, in dark-green marker.
Ace seemed distracted by his tablet, reading his notes and comparing photos against his surroundings.
Blade didn’t say anything. Instead, he let Ace continue on his walk of enlightenment.
Once Ace had turned the corner and disappeared from his sight, Blade stepped up to the shed to examine the surface more closely.
Tracing the ridged edges with his fingers, he recognized the indentations immediately. Entry points from a three-inch blade, most likely the same one used by the killer and left in the man’s eye socket.
Blade reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own blade.
Three inches.
Stainless steel.
Perfect for cutting through the wind as it searched for its intended target.
Knowing the answer already, he slid his blade into one of the notches and watched as the blade stood perfectly straight in the wood when he pulled his hand away.
“Did you find something?” Ace asked, from somewhere behind him.
Blade pulled his knife from the wooden panel and slid the object back into his jeans. He wasn’t about to get Ace involved in what he hoped was just paranoia.
“Nope, nothing. Just checking out the scene.”
He turned back to find Ace staring at him with a skeptical eye. The boy wasn’t an idiot. Whether he called him out on his bullshit or let it slide for the time being was yet to be seen.
“Come. There’s nothing left for us to find here,” Blade huffed, stepping past Ace and heading back to their bikes.
For the next part of their investigation, Blade was going to handle this part on his own. He wasn’t about to risk the lives of Ace or any of his other brothers on the crew.
Once they got back to the motel, Marcus asked Ace to help him with some shit, which gave Blade the perfect opportunity to bug off on his own.
He hopped back on his motorcycle and sped off toward the seediest bars he could find. His answers weren’t in files or in police reports; they were on the lips of the city's seediest people.
