Free Deception (Southern Comfort) by Lisa Clark O'Neill Page B

and the fragile male ego, and so Dec decided to take up the slack.  He figured since they’re twins and all she wouldn’t mind if he let her think he was Rogan.  Like they’re interchangeable or something? Who knows what goes through his head. But anyway, he did – pretend he was Rogan – on the phone one night, and I guess he said a few things that were… inappropriately suggestive.  Anyway, Kim figured out it was Declan, got pissed and mentioned it to Clay, and well… that’s probably enough of the family gossip.”  She waggled her eyebrows as she inclined her head toward their audience.  “But it’s always nice to keep my partner entertained.”
    From behind them, a deep-voiced throat was suddenly cleared in a bass rumble, and thick fingers started flying across the keyboard. 
    “He’s like a little old lady,” Kathleen leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, obviously needling her partner.  “I think he maybe knits little sweaters for Frou-frou in his spare time.”
    “I heard that, Murphy.”
    Sucking back a laugh, Kathleen winked at Josh and then started to get up just as her p hone vibrated.  Eyeing it, she gave a quick parting wave, walking back toward her desk to take the call. Blocking the distraction, Josh returned to his computer.  He’d been searching the database for tattoos similar to one a rape victim had described to him last week, hoping to find a hit that matched the design he was trying to replicate.  The tat was the best hope they had for identifying him in any positive way, given the lack of DNA evidence.  The bastard had not only worn a mask, and a condom, but he’d forced the victim to bathe from a bucket of water he provided and to douche herself afterward.  Josh hated forensically savvy criminals.
    But all of that was forgotten when Kathleen hung up the phone.  
    “Mac, we’re on.”
    The big detective glanced at his watch and grimaced.  “Already?”
    “No rest for the weary.  A construction crew over on Lockwood found some remains under a concrete foundation they were replacing.  Apparently the slab was poured several months ago, but then there were some funding problems and something to do with code issues and construction just now got back under way.  They jack-hammered up a section this morning and found the body.  A couple of uniforms are over there right now, roping off the scene and holding things steady until we get there.”  She pitched her voice a little louder.  “Josh, you hearing this?  You’re going to need to ride along as well.  Decomp is pretty much complete, and apparently the vic is missing a fair amount of teeth.  We may need you to pull one of your reconstruction miracles.  It looks like IDing the remains is going to be a sketchy prospect.  No pun intended.”
    Josh closed the file he’d been working on and logged off, lifting his jacket off the chair as he stood.  He grabbed a sketch pad and a few pencils to record impressions and notes, feeling a low, professional hum vibrate through his blood.  Not that he liked to see dead bodies turn up – no matter how many years he’d been a cop, he still wasn’t immune to man’s inhumanity toward man – but this was the kind of work at which he excelled.  It was his duty to put a face on otherwise faceless victims, to give them back some of what had been taken away.  To help them get the justice they deserved.
    “Ready when you are.” He double checked his weapon.
    Big Mac offered a terse nod – progress, considering the granite figures of Mount Rushmore usually showed more animation – and Kathleen snagged her own jacket before leading the way.  They trudged out to visit a final resting spot which never should have been.
     
    “ FOUND the body stuffed in a pipe running under part of the new foundation,” the foreman told the three detectives, shouting to be heard over the sound of the construction which continued on other parts of the massive project.  An old hotel