A Smudge of Gray by Jonathan Sturak Read Free Book Online Page A

used his Filofax Classic Black Pen to point to Max’s
fingers. The nail on his right hand was ripped off, the result from his bout
with the wall. A fly landed and feasted on the blood. Lt. Foster shifted toward
Max’s intact nails. Brian positioned his head.
    “Right here, his fingers are smudged
with some sort of gray grease. We have the lab analyzing it,” Lt. Foster said.
    The wall in front of them blocked the
morning sun, which prevented Brian’s view. He glanced behind him and saw two
crime scene investigators photographing the area. “Hey, can I get some gloves?”
    One of the investigators offered him a
pair. “They’re latex. Is that kosher?”
    “He’s not putting it on his dick,” Lt.
Foster said.
    “It’s fine,” Brian said.
    Brian donned the gloves and grabbed his
flashlight from his keychain. He looked at the blue tint of the skin of Max’s
hand, which was drained of the blood that had once pumped through its veins.
Brian flipped the hand over and checked its groomed nails. He saw the subtle grease
embedded between the keratin and the skin.
    “Hmm, interesting.”
    Lt. Foster removed some photographs from
his folder and showed them to Brian. While Brian loved perusing pictures of his
family, these printed pages of pigments were far from picturesque. They were
pictures of a man, not Max, even though the same look of death covered him. A
small, delicate hole was carved between the man’s eyes as blood seeped from the
orifice.
    “These pictures were from a murder two
weeks ago on the north side, a Dante Lopez. This matches the perp’s M.O.” Lt.
Foster showed another picture with a one-inch smudge of gray on the side of a
metal container. “Also, we found this same substance on the ground near Lopez’s
body. But there wasn’t enough of it for the lab to analyze accurately.”
    Lt. Foster took a moment and shook his
head. “Looks like we have a fuckin’ serial killer. Excuse my fuckin’ French.
That’s why I called you, Detective Boise.”
    Brian suddenly felt uncomfortable as his
eyes shifted to a stone on the ground. He thought he would be glad the lieutenant
had thought of him, but a knot tightened deep within his gut, a knot on a rope
made from the hair of his family.
    “I’ll need all the details from the last
murder,” Brian uttered as his wife and son filled his mind.
    Lt. Foster patted him on his back. The lieutenant’s
hand felt overpowering to the detective. It felt as if it were made of concrete
that had cured for a hundred years. The jolt rattled Brian’s body as Lt.
Foster’s words overwhelmed his mind. “It’s already on your desk.”

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
    Bees carrying bags consumed a hive made
of stores. Many men meandered through the magnificent mall as their wives
window-shopped. A couple walked from Bath & Body Works carrying a sack full
of watermelon lotions; a group of old veterans swallowed stale coffee and
watched; a cute Asian woman at a purse kiosk gave her sales pitch to a passing
shopper. Chaos filled the mall, yet everyone seemed to know exactly where he or
she wanted to go.
    A large indoor play area was in the
middle of the east wing. Kids glided down the slide and jumped into a ball pit.
In the crowd, Katie chased Kevin around the monkey bars.
    “You can’t catch me!” Kevin yelled.
    “Yes, I can!” Katie shouted back.
    Kevin ran behind Trevor and giggled as Katie
tried to reach around and tag him. Trevor smiled as he watched his kids play.
He wore a casual Chaps long sleeve shirt tucked into a pair of navy Dockers. Trevor
spun around as Katie reached between his legs. Kevin jumped back. The happy
father burst out laughing and tried to hold Kevin in order to help Katie win
her tag.
    “She’s gonna get you!” Trevor teased.
    “Those kids are just filled with energy
today,” Laura said as they all turned to her.
    A low-cut tunic and a fitting pair of
jeans, the kind that most mothers shouldn’t wear, covered her figure as she
carried a