The housekeeper found him. They always do. There was the smell first, she said, but then she found him under the sheets. His eyes were closed and there was some spittle, he looked peaceful except for the red marks around his neck. He was on his front, one leg bent to the side, the other straight, dried lube around his naked cheeks and balls. The TV/DVD Player had been taken off the dresser and put on the nightstand next to the bed. They were watching something. The DVD and the belt, or whatever it was they had used, was gone.
No tattoos, no piercings, one ring, simple chain and cross, money and wallet still in his pants on the vinyl chair. Christian Hault, twenty.
They signed the register as John Gumby and Jack Pokey. The owner said the license plate was enough, gave a description, said they seemed happy. No surveillance. Won’t be hard to find the guy anyway, he’ll probably come to us when the shock wears off.
Two addresses, one from Hault’s driver’s license, one from the license plate. Mary and Thomas Hault, Armando and Karla Rojo. Pictures are taken, the coroner bags him up. I send a cruiser to the Rojo’s. We go to the Haults in an unmarked car, Zach drives. On the ride, we’re quiet for a little while, but then Zach starts up. “What is it with the fags?”
I look out the window, then take my seatbelt off.
“I mean, whatever you wanna do, right. But why does it have to be so fucking kinky all the time? You never hear of gays just having normal sex, you know what I mean? It’s always leather masks, or public toilets or some shit.”
I take off my blazer and roll the window down a crack. I’m tired. I’m tired all the time. I look at Zach and smile. “I don’t know,” he says.
I hate him when he talks like this. One day it’s the niggers, the next it’s the lazy homeless cunts or the ‘greasies’ in their pimped rides. He’s so angry all the time, but I don’t think I could work with a slob like Carter or Dimitri. Zach is a good-looking guy. I’m not attracted to him, but he’s good looking. His blonde hair makes him look sweet, but it’s his teeth. He’s cute until he smiles. That one front tooth, twisted sideways.
“Maybe I’m just jealous ‘cause my wife won’t suck me off anymore.”
He knows I won’t respond to him when he’s like this. He turns up the radio.