“Oh my God, Morgan, what happened to you?” Tamra grabbed the battered man and helped him into her apartment. “Who did this?”

The concerned woman guided him over to the couch, where he lay down with a groan. She peered anxiously at his bruised and battered face. “You need a doctor.”

“I need a drink,” he mumbled through a swollen jaw. “A really stiff one.”

“You need a doctor, Morgan.” Tamra went and got some wet cloths and started cleaning up the dried blood on his face. “Does this have something to do with our murder case?”

“Yes, I let my guard down with that little turd, Paco Sanchez. One of his boys blindsided me.” He groaned from the pain caused by speaking.

“Oh, I could kill that little punk.” For the first time ever, Morgan saw anger flash across Tamra’s face. "You've been chasing him around for years."

“I’ve never seen you so upset.” Morgan winced with his words. 

“Sorry, but I agree that he may be killing those poor women. Nobody deserved to die like that and be dumped outside like trash.” The emotional woman disappeared again and returned with two pills and a glass of water.

He stared at the liquid. “That’s not the type of drink I had in mind.“

Morgan managed to painfully get the pills down and chased it with the disappointing water.  

“You can’t mix alcohol with what I just gave you, but you won’t care in a moment or two.” She grabbed his hand and ran her free one through his blond hair. “Besides, you’re lucky I’m not driving you to Harborview Emergency Room.”

“What can an emergency room do that you can’t? Morgan caressed her cheek as the drugs took effect. Then he remembered the needle and took it from his pocket. “Test this against the heroin that killed our vics.”

Tamra took the syringe but remained focused on Morgan’s foolishness. “Why did you go alone to see Paco? That was stupid.”

“I went alone because I thought I would get more information since we have history.” Can’t tell her the truth. I didn’t know what that little turd was going to say. Too many of my secrets are already exposed. 

It was no more than a minute before his aches and pains subsided and he felt like he was floating on fluffy clouds. Whoa. This is better than weed. Way better! 

“So beautiful.” He stared into Tamra’s magnificent light blue eyes as he drifted off into a painkiller induced sleep. 

Sometime in the night, he felt something was wrong. He was warm and wet down below. Am I bleeding? 

Then he realized what was happening. He was too tired and sore to object, so he just lay back and enjoyed what Tamra was doing to him with her mouth. 

Before long, the woman slid up the couch. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she was nude.  The small woman’s body was firm and curvy. The fact that this had been a long time coming heightened the experience. 

Staring into her all too familiar eyes, which were reflecting magnificently from a light over the kitchen sink, only added to the intensity. Tamra rode Morgan for several passionate minutes to their mutual satisfaction and, a moment later, he drifted back to sleep.  

Morgan would have thought it all a dream if he hadn’t woken with the small woman nestled in the crook of his arm. When he tried to shift his position, a painful moan escaped from his lips. 

Tamra woke and jumped up to retrieve more painkillers. He couldn’t help but appreciatively enjoy her bouncing nudity. 

After Morgan took the pills, he made his way to the bathroom. The mirror revealed that some serious damage had been done to his face. 

His lip was split, and his nose was crooked. He was sporting two black eyes, not to mention various deep purple bruises. It looks and feels like a Mack truck ran over my face.  

After a soothing hot shower, a relieved Morgan made his way back into the living room. Tamra had breakfast plates set for them. His were all soft foods. 

They ate a delicious meal punctuated by an uncomfortable silence, neither looking at each other. Once they finished, she broke the shared solitude. 

“I’m sorry. You just seemed so vulnerable and your wounds scared me. I couldn’t help myself. I needed you.”

“I’m sorry it happened.” Jesus, am I genetically programmed to say stupid things? 

“I’m not.” Now she stared hard at him. 

Morgan refused to meet her gaze. “It should never have happened. I’m a total mess. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Damn it, Morgan, this feels so right and normal.  Please don’t shove me aside.” Her face was wrinkled up in confusion and pain. 

“I can’t do normal, Tam, and even if I could, it couldn’t be with you.”

“Just go, Morgan.” She headed for her room, tears flowing. “For someone who doesn’t want to hurt me, you’re sure doing it right now.” 

“Tam.” He rose. 

“When I come out, I expect you to be gone.” Her bedroom door slammed and once again he heard it lock. It was the same thing Debra had done the few times he had fought with his wife. The two women are so much alike. 

“I’m sorry, Tam.” 

“Yes you are.” He heard through the door. 

Morgan left her apartment in a hurry, needing desperately to clear his head. Those eyes. I just can’t . . .

The disheveled detective called himself in, placing himself on duty, and headed down to the warehouses on the waterfront. He parked about a block away from Paco’s worn-down brick building and began surveillance.  

The first half of the day, Morgan watched several streetwalkers going in and out. They all had the haggard look of sex workers who were at the end of their careers. Paco’s such a bottom feeder. 

He found it interesting that the hookers went in looking twitchy and on edge and came out laughing and happy. They’re obviously getting fixes. We could hit them for the drugs, but one of his peons would take the rap and it wouldn’t nearly compare to a murder charge. 

The problem with surveillance is that it’s often quite boring and gave him a lot of time to think. And there was only one thing on his mind. Tamra. 

I want to be with her. But I won’t allow myself to have her. Yet I sleep with prostitutes. What the hell kinda logic is that? 

The second half of the day, a scraggly black girl came out of the building. A very tall and robust Hispanic man followed her out, yelling. That must be the Neanderthal who clobbered me. 

When the black girl turned around, the big man slugged her right in the face. The punch was hard enough to drop the woman. Morgan raised his seat from the reclining position and fired up the sedan, getting ready to intervene.

The girl dug around in her pocket, then handed the angry man a couple of syringes. She must have stolen them. The big man scowled at the prostitute and, after spitting on her, turned away.

The woman picked herself up and, as she tried to leave, the large Hispanic man turned back and kicked her in the butt. Morgan relaxed once the burly fella went back inside and the woman headed off. 

The detective watched as the prostitute pulled three or four more syringes from her other pocket and smiled. Good for you, girl. 

Okay, it’s time to go. I still have to take care of Kelly. 
 

Character/Suspect List: 

Homicide Detective Morgan Harper - The heavily faulted main character who never recovered from the suicide of his wife.  

Kelly Pierson - a young, new to the game, prostitute who is frequented by Detective Morgan. 

Debra Harper - Morgan’s deceased wife who committed suicide.  

Tamra Burns- a crime scene technician who is Debra's identical twin.

Internal Affairs Officer Brian Anderson - Investigating Morgan Harper.

Homicide Detective Hutch Kelly - Morgan’s partner. 

Doctor Millison Parker - Morgan’s psychiatrist.

Paco Sanchez - A local pimp and street thug.

Mac Yung- Aggressive reporter. 

Steve Vance - Vicki's husband.

Vicki Vance - An old friend of Morgan and Debra’s.

Jennifer Collins - The first victim prostitute. 

Amy Henderson - The second victim prostitute.