Love Is The Bond: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars Page B

another on a
regular basis. It was just how they were. Still, I kept an eye on
her just in case.
    “That’s different,” Ben said, shaking his
head.
    “Different how?”
    “You’re supposed ta’ be lookin’ at these
autopsy photos,” he said in an attempt to divert the conversation.
“Not psychoanalyzin’ me.”
    “Tell me how it’s different then,” she
pushed.
    “Well, ya’know… It’s just different.”
    She was unrelenting. “It’s still a fetish.
And it’s called crurophilia, by the way. You know, Ben, the first
step here is just admitting it. I can help. I’d be more than happy
to walk on you.”
    “What?!”
    “Sure, I’d love to do it. It would be fun. I
can go put on some heels for you, and I’m certain Rowan won’t…”
    “Felicity!” he objected.
    “Really, Ben. You just lay down on the floor,
and I’ll go change shoes. I’ve got this really sexy pair of blue
pumps, and I could…”
    “Dammit, Felicity!” he barked.
    “Oh. Would you prefer black or red? I have
those too.”
    “Stop it! Just stop!”
    “It’s okay. I understand,” she replied with a
wicked grin.
    “Jeezus…” my friend muttered, letting his
forehead fall into his hand.
    My wife still wasn’t finished. “It’s okay.
Really. I do understand. Constance and I wear the same size. I’ll
just loan them to her.”
    “Felicity, goddammit!” Ben snapped. “Will ya’
just knock it off?!”
    She shrugged. “Okay, if it makes you
uncomfortable.”
    “Thank you,” he spat.
    “No. That should be, ‘Thank you,
Mistress’.”
    My friend sighed and looked over at me.
“Jeeezus… Row… I dunno how you do it.”
    I leaned back against the counter and took a
sip from my own cup of coffee. I couldn’t help but be somewhat
amused by their exchange, especially since it didn’t take the turn
I had feared.
    “Actually, she’s not usually as mean to me as
she is to you,” I replied.
    “I can be if you’d like,” she offered.
    “We’ll discuss that later.”
    “Fuckin’ wunnerful,” Ben spat then started
shuffling through the pile of photos once again until he found the
shot he was looking for and pulled it out with a quick jerk.
Holding it up, he continued, “So, you two clowns wanna get serious
for a minute and have a look at this one? Believe it or not, the
reason I came here is ‘cause I’ve got some police work to do.”
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 10:
     
     
    “This is what I really wanted you two ta’
check out,” Ben offered, handing a picture to Felicity.
    I stepped toward the table and peered at it
over her shoulder.
    The image we were staring at was that of the
quadrant on Wentworth’s chest where the series of shallow cuts had
been scored into his flesh. These had been the lacerations I had
first noticed when we were at the crime scene, and they were also
what had sparked that foreboding tickle in the back of my skull.
Now that I was standing here looking at the close-up photograph,
and I could see the wounds in all their unconcealed glory, that
feeling was returning as a full-blown aggravation.
    I continued staring at the glossy color page
following the thin, and sometimes faint, marks with my eyes. As I
had suspected earlier, they seemed to form a pattern. At the time,
all I had been able to see was an almost random checkerboard, but
now more detail had been revealed. What I was seeing certainly
wasn’t symmetrical, and was far from perfect, but upon close
inspection it appeared to be the outline of a heart within the
crosshatched slashes.
    “A heart?” I said aloud.
    “That’s what we thought it looked like,” Ben
replied. “Mean anything to you?”
    “Other than the obvious, ‘I heart this’ or ‘I
heart that’ bumper sticker reference, not really,” I answered. “I
mean it looks familiar…” I paused, letting my words trail off as I
reached out and with my finger traced a portion of the pattern in
the air over the top of the photo. “The crosshatching and all