Drawn to Darkness #SYTYCW15 #Intrigue

Chapter 1

  Special Agent Dante Wyly snapped a glove over his right hand and surveyed the scene. He'd known the minute he'd hit the building that the scene was messy. His nose hadn't deceived him. The body lay sprawled across the bed, one wrist dangling from a cuff attached to the headboard. Blood pooled dark and thick beneath the man's hips and the room reeked of old pennies and bad meat.

"Special Agent Wyly, glad you could make it," detective James Ramiro said. "I didn't know if you were next on rotation or not, but I asked for you when I called the SBI."

Dante pulled on the other glove and nodded at Ramiro. "I was next, but they would have bumped it to me if you asked for me. Tell me why you called."

Dante stepped around the paper scattered between the door and the bed, conscious of the need to keep the scene clean. He glanced down and stopped dead, eyes widening. Sketches of the body in various stages of mutilation appeared to float on the thick carpet. Placed by an expert hand interested in showing the work to its best advantage, the sketches demonstrated a disturbing level of artistic skill. The shadows and light played over the paper giving the subject depth and detail. If the artist hadn't been a psychopath, the art might have graced the walls of a big city gallery. Instead, they littered the floor of a room soaked in blood.

"Two reasons. First, the drawings," Ramiro said nodding toward the scattered paper. "This is the second scene where we've found them. The first happened two weeks ago in in Vanstory Hills. Wife came home and found her hubby sliced up and sketched just like this one."

"Sexual assault?" Dante asked. He'd caught a faint whiff of sex as he'd crossed the threshold.

"Not assault in that case, but there was evidence of sexual activity. Appears to be the same here, but we won't know for sure until the autopsy."

Dante surveyed the room, forcing his gaze past the ruined remains of a human that screamed for his attention. He focused on the framed photographs scattered around the room. Two handsome young men cavorted in the ocean, on the slopes, in a pool. It was easier to see the victim alive than to try to find the features of the handsome young man in the blood-soaked body. "Where's the boyfriend?"

"Sobbing in the living room. Says he was away on business for a couple of days and came home to this about an hour ago."

"I'll want to talk to him before I go. Get one of the uniforms to call someone to take care of the boyfriend. I don't want to have to deal with the histrionics. I need a clear statement. "

"No problem. Do you want the techs to join you in here?"

"Yeah, send them in so we can get started. Is the medical examiner on the way?"

Ramiro nodded. "You got here a lot faster than I expected. I figured I might have to wait for you so I called you first and the ME second."

"I live not far from here," Dante said. He made a slow turn and let himself examine any details that leaped out at him before closing his eyes and letting his other senses take over. He heard a dog barking from a nearby house. "Ask the neighbor with the dog what time it started barking last night. Would have been late and out of the ordinary."

"I'll send a uniform over."

"Good. And keep a low profile outside. I don't want the neighborhood in an uproar while we work."

Dante made a circuit of the room while Ramiro relayed the orders to the uniforms. His eyes kept sliding over the body. Over the blood. His hands flexed as he walked. Scenes like this always made him want to beat something to a pulp. The kid on the bed didn't deserve what had happened to him, no matter what the killer might have thought.