Full Release by Marshall Thornton (free novel 24 TXT) 📗

away the awful feeling left by the interview, but at least I’d be clean. Somehow, I had to prove my innocence, not just to the police, to everyone. I couldn’t live like this. I couldn’t have Eddie’s murder cutting off my opportunities.

Climbing out of the shower, I heard pounding on my front door. What now? Wrapping a towel around my dripping body, I ran to the front door. I swung it open and came face to face with Detective Tripp. Fortunately, he was alone. The last person I wanted to see was his unpleasant partner. Not that Tripp had been much nicer to me lately, but at least he was fun to look at.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said angrily.

“I think I’m standing here in a towel.” It was one of the few truthful responses I could come up with.

“I went to see Sylvia Navarez this morning. All she could talk about was a missing massage table.”

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” I lied. It was in the trunk of my car, of course. I wondered how long the search warrant was in effect.

“Your movements over the last few days have been very erratic. Out of pattern.”

“My movements?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a murder suspect. You’re under surveillance. The men you see are being questioned.”

“Oh,” I said. I probably should have realized they’d do something like that, but it hadn’t even occurred to me. Didn’t budgetary concerns prevent them from following people around? Of course, with pressure from someone like Carlos Maldonado, they were probably putting more money into arresting me than they might usually.

Tripp opened the screen door and stepped into the house. I wasn’t sure I wanted him in the house, so I didn’t move out of the way. We stood very close.

“We need to talk about this,” he said. He kept his eyes on mine, almost as though he didn’t want to look down at my damp body.

“Look, this isn’t really any of your business.” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized how silly it was. He was investigating me for murder. Everything about me was his business.

“I found your ad on massageformen.com. What do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?”

I shrugged. “You won’t look for the killer, so I have to.”

“So you’re doing massage to try and meet him?” There was a condemning tone in his voice.

“Bingo.”

“That’s so stupid.”

“Why stupid? You and your partner seem to think it was some kind of sex crime. If I can attract the killer, then I can tell you who he is.” I was acutely aware that he was standing inches away from me, and I was wearing only a towel. I knew I should move away from him, but I didn’t want to.

“My partner thinks you’re looking for victims.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “She thinks I’m a serial killer?”

“She thinks you got a taste for it, yes.”

“What do you think?”

“I think you made a mistake that you’re not willing to own up to.” He paused for a moment. “Or you might be innocent.”

Relief flooded through me. I know he only said I might be innocent, but still, it was something. After facing the fact that everyone in the world just assumed I was guilty, the idea that someone might think I was innocent, and that that someone one was Detective Aaron Tripp, was an amazing sliver of hope.

“Why do you think I’m innocent?” I was curious. It seemed like something had changed.

“I don’t have anything solid yet. Maybe I’m being an idiot, but something’s not right with the Navarez woman. There’s too much money there, and she won’t say where it comes from. I called the priest to see if you were lying about him telling you to get out of town, but he won’t call me back. And I think if you were a serial killer the last thing you would do is set yourself up as a masseur. You’d visit them. You wouldn’t become one. The only logical reason to do what you’re doing is to find the killer.”

I liked listening to him. His voice was deep and molasses thick. When he finished, I said, “Thank you.”

All at once, I felt ridiculous blocking his way into my house. I took a step away from the door, meaning to let Tripp into the house, but he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me close to him. I looked up at him. What was he doing? Why had he--

Then he was kissing me. His lips were as soft as I’d fantasized they’d be, but somehow the experience was so much stronger, so much more intoxicating then I’d imagined. Tripp reached around me, his hands caressing my back, sliding down and groping my ass.

The towel began to slide off. I was so close to him that I could feel his dick stiffening in his slacks. My own cock stood erect, slipping out of the towel and saluting. He reached down and took my cock in his hand. He kissed my neck, licking behind my ear as he flicked the head of my dick with a finger.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of my house. I turned to look out the screen door. “Shit,” Tripp said.

I didn’t know what was going on until I saw Detective Hanson getting out of the beige Crown Vic. Clearly, Tripp wasn’t expecting her. I scrambled to pick up my towel and wrap it around my waist,

When she got to my front door, Tripp asked, “What are you doing here?”

“You don’t get to ask that. I get to ask that. This is my lead. What are you doing here without telling me?”

I saw real anger between them. This wasn’t some good cop/bad cop show for my benefit. This case had driven a wedge between them.

When Tripp didn’t answer, Hanson turned to me and said, “We found Eddie’s suicide note in the glove compartment of