Page 131 of Rest In Pieces

“Good, thank you.” He rushes over to his desk and starts digging through the papers. I smirk as I watch him, wondering how he can be so damn smart and yet so absent-minded.

I met him about ten years ago when he was roughed up by a loan shark he owed money to. I never asked him why he borrowed the money, and I didn’t care. I figured he’d be a good person to have in my pocket, and I was right.

“So, what’ve you got for me, and why couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“Phone calls can be recorded, and I didn’t know if you needed me to keep this quiet.”

I can’t be pissed at that, even if it meant having to leave Amity’s warm, willing pussy behind.

“Ah-ha.” He finally finds the papers he’s been looking for and settles into his desk chair.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t corn syrup if you weren’t willing to say it over the phone.”

“Ah, no. Definitely not.”

Looks like my hunch about Monica faking this whole stalker thing was wrong.

“At first, I thought there was a problem with the lab results, so I re-ran the tests myself. The CBC panel yielded consistent findings, revealing significantly decreased levels of hemoglobin, RBC, and WBC compared to the established reference ranges.”

“In English, Bruce.”

“Huh? Oh, the red and white blood cell counts are lower than typically found in normal blood samples.”

“And that means?”

“Normal hemoglobin levels are usually around sixteen grams per deciliter. The sample you provided showed only two grams per deciliter. Based on these findings, I have to assume this is menstrual blood.”

I blink, surprised. Of all the things I thought he might say, that wasn’t it. “Are you telling me someone smeared period blood on the note?”

“In my professional opinion? Yes.”

I fight back a gag. If Amity started bleeding while I was fucking her, it wouldn’t bother me at all, but this is very fucking different.

“Does this help?”

“Yeah, Bruce. As gross as it is, I think you’ve just solved a mystery that’s been bugging me.”

He grins, looking proud of himself.

“Can I take the results with me?”

“What? Oh, of course.” He hands me the file, and I slap him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Bruce. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Genesis.”

“You know where I am if you need anything,” I call over my shoulder as I leave.

“I… um… yes. Thank you,” he splutters, flustered, making me chuckle.

I retrace my steps, folder in hand, as I make my way back to the reception desk to return my guest pass. This time, the woman must hear me coming because she’s standing there waiting for me.

“Sign out and add the date and time,” she tells me.

I do as she says, pulling the pass off over my head and handing it back. She takes it from me, and then hands me a folded piece of paper.

“This from Dr. Horton?” I ask, opening it up and finding a phone number.

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