The Count by David-Jack Fletcher

Author:David-Jack Fletcher [Fletcher, David-Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Slashic Horror Press
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Patrick let Corrigan’s arms wrap around him, and he pushed his head into the detective’s chest. Soft graying hairs tickled at his cheek, and he breathed in the man’s scent. A tear streamed down his face, and Corrigan wiped at it, forever observant and gentle.

“What can we do?” Patrick asked, his voice low and trembling.

Corrigan sighed, his hefty chest sinking back into the bed. He shifted a little, ushering Patrick’s gaze to his own with a hand under the man’s chin. As they lay there, naked and enveloped in each other’s bodies, the detective wiped again at Patrick’s tears. “I have to find Danny’s killer,” he said.

“You should have seen him.” Patrick continued. “He was so different at lunch. Running out of there like that…”

“Death hits people hard. Especially this kind of death.”

Patrick rolled over to become the little spoon, and pulled Corrigan’s burly arm around him. Kissing the back of the detective’s hand, he cuddled into the man, hoping he was right. Something niggled at him, though. The sense that something was wrong with his best friend.

“Was he like this when his mother died?”

Shaking his head, Patrick said, “Not really. He was quiet and cried a lot. Today was different. Like he was someone else. He’s been weird since he moved into that house.”

The murder house. Patrick creased his brow and reached to the bedside table for his phone.

“What are you doing?” Corrigan asked.

“Googling. I know that place has a reputation, but what if it’s true? What if it is haunted?”

Corrigan breathed into Patrick’s neck, stifling his disbelief. “I really don’t think that’s the case.”

“I know, I know. You aren’t a believer, and I’ve seen too many movies. But the fact is, Sam is acting really weird, and it only started when he moved.”

“Bub, didn’t Danny die the day after he moved in?”

Patrick ignored him, and kept scrolling Google search results about the house. A few news stories from years earlier. People had died there, it was true, but that was true for lots of rentals. Especially houses that were so old. If there was something wrong with that house, it wasn’t going to be discovered in a feeble Google search. He needed—

“Corry, I need a favor,” Patrick said, invoking the pet name he had for the bearish detective.

“I can run a check on the address,” he replied.

“How did you know what I was going to ask?”

Corrigan kissed the back of Patrick’s head and squeezed him in a firm hug. “Because I know you, bub. And I will help you wherever I can.”

Patrick rolled back around, tracing the curves of Corrigan’s naked body, and then resting a hand on his soft belly. “Thank you. I’m going to keep searching, but I want to go to the library archives. Drop me off on your way back to work?”

Checking his wristwatch, Corrigan nodded. “My break is just about over. Lots to do, killers to find.”

Patrick smiled, but it was filled with sadness.

“I wish there was time for a round two.” Corrigan gave a deep purr, and kissed Patrick on the neck.

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