Highway Butcher – Chapter Two

NOT EDITED

Chapter Two

5:00 PM; WEST LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT, DETECTIVE DAVID QUINN’S DESK

David lifted his head as Travis tossed a thin stack of papers onto his keyboard. “So I’m guessing nothing helpful?”

“No, nothing more than what we already assumed, honestly. Marks match the lacerations on the first victim to a T. Fingerprints didn’t pull up any matches, and neither did her blood. Bloodwork itself is pretty standard. No drugs, no booze. No food in the stomach or small intestine, so she likely hadn’t eaten in at least eight hours. She’d been dead about two hours when we found her. The arm was removed pretty much the same way as the first victim. He sliced through and around the shoulder joint. Probably dislocated the shoulder first to get it out of the socket.”

“That’s fucking brutal. How hard is it to dislocate a shoulder like that?”

“Usually, you’d be looking at a sporting accident or vehicular something or other, but her body doesn’t show any bruising or scraping indicative of a car strike. When you’re in a fight or trying to subdue someone, bones in the arm usually kinda… give way and break before you’d successfully dislocate the shoulder. You’d usually have to incapacitate them first to get a good grab and pop of it. Since the removal of the arm happened after she was dead, the dislocation probably did too. I mean, you can get more leverage on someone who isn’t fighting you back anymore, and leverage is what you need.”

“God, I hope she was dead.”

“Yeah, about the best thing we can hope for.”

“Yeah,” David echoed. “Thanks, Travis.”

“Mmhmm.”

David cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, sorry for getting on your case about Bo today. As long as you’re doing your job and doing it well, it doesn’t really matter if you like Bo or not.”

Travis shrugged. “It’s whatever. If you wanna suck the guy’s dick and act like he’s God’s gift to the forensic world, that’s your business. I don’t give a shit either way.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude. I’m trying to be civil. The absolute bare minimum for you here is to return the favor.”

“When it comes to Bo’s little fan club, this is me being civil. Couldn’t care less how you feel about the guy or how you think he’s so amazing or how you all worship the ground he walks on. Just don’t wanna hear about any of it.”

“You’re… Christ, you’re a real piece of work, Travis. I genuinely cannot believe how many years he put up with working alongside you.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy what people like Bo will put up with just so they can get told what a good little worker they are. It’s a lot like how the rest of you treat him, just hoping he’ll throw you one little bone, come back, and solve the big case for you.” Travis rolled his eyes. “We solved cases long before Bo moved to West. We’ve solved cases the million times he’s been gone. When he finally drinks himself to death, we’ll keep solving cases. He’s not the genius you all make him out to be. He’s just a self-deprecating little shit with an ever-looming little pity party, and you all play into it because it makes you feel all warm and gooey inside to cheer on the underdog or what the fuck ever.

“So while the rest of us are here doing our damn jobs every day, you go on home and hold his little hand, tell him how amazing he is, tell him how L.A. just can’t survive without him, get on your hands and knees to beg him to come back. But don’t make me hear about it.”

“God, you are bitter,” David whispered. “How the hell are you surviving even being in this damn station with that big of a chip on your shoulder?”

Travis raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “The lights in my office are turned on. His aren’t. Doesn’t matter how many of his little achievements Jamal hangs up on the walls. I’m here, and he’s not. I walk around in this station just fine with that knowledge.”

“How did I not realize what an insufferable dick you were?”

“Because like all of his groupies, you only work cases your boy is on.”

Although Bo had definitely worked most of David’s cases with him, he sure as hell hadn’t worked every single one. So David offered a roll of his eyes and a dismissive wave of his hand. “Get the hell away from my desk, man.”

Travis chuckled. “Gladly. But, hey, pro-tip, if you want your little blonde back? Don’t tell him how great he is and how he saves the world and shit. Just tell him a dead woman needs him. Has more respect and grace for the dead than he ever has for the living.”

“Yeah, I can see why.”

Travis snorted, threw up a little wave, and headed for the door. David let his annoyance simmer for quite some time before standing and marching his ass to Jamal’s office. He opened the door, crossing his arms over his chest as he met Jamal’s gaze.

The man stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “I’m going to have to call you back, Alessi. Excuse me.” Jamal cleared his throat as he set his phone in its cradle. “What can I do for you, David?”

“If that miserable piece of shit continues to work on this case, I cannot work it any longer.”

“Miserable piece of… Travis?”

“Yes, Travis.”

“What did he do?”

“I don’t even know where to start with that, Jamal.”

“Well, unfortunately, I’m going to need something if you want me to do anything about it. There’s a reason he still works here. Bo would never give me anything to do something about it.”

“Yeah, because that’s stopped you before?”

Jamal sighed. “These… assumptions bore me so incredibly quickly, Detective. I don’t illegally fire my employees.”

“You quite literally fired Bo for refusing to testify again Kathy and Dallas.”

“I fired Bo for repeated insubordination. Pardon my French, but I don’t fuck with the livelihood of my employees just because one of them is a little grating or a bit of an ass now and then.”

David grunted his response.

“Would you like to tell me anything, or may I get back to my phone call?” Jamal asked.

Much as he hated the way Travis existed in that very moment, he still didn’t necessarily believe in taking a man’s job from him. Not yet, anyway. “Why the hell does he hate Bo so much? I mean, did they have some sort of life-long forensic battle before I got here?”

“The year Bo took his apprenticship with the force is the same year Travis applied for the first time. He was also fresh out of college. Just… at a more standard age. Bo was chosen over him, and I suppose it pissed him off. Greatly. Bo had absolutely nothing to do with Travis not getting chosen, but like most most people who grow bitter over something, the blame is inherently placed on the wrong party. That has unfortunately not changed for Travis as the years have gone by.”

“Dude, you hired the guy you passed over for a teenager and thought things would go well?”

“First, don’t… call me dude,” Jamal said, holding his hands up as he leaned back in his chair. “I get enough of that from one of my boys. Second, to be fair, I did not know he knew he lost to Bo. Nor did I know he’d be such a vindictive little asshole about it.”

Franklin, Jamal’s personal body guard, chuckled from his seat near the corner of Jamal’s desk.

Mid reach for the pop on his desk, Jamal glared at the ceiling. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… this is the strangest conversation I have seen you have in any recent history.” He shrugged before his gaze fell back to the book in his hand. “It’s nice, is all. Despite the topic, it’s nice.”

Jamal rolled his eyes, smacking the air in Franklin’s direction. He grabbed his pop and twisted off the cap. “What would you like me to do, David?”

“I… I just can’t work with him.”

“Dylan will be back in a few days. Unless another armless woman turns up dead before then, I won’t send you anywhere Travis goes, and I won’t send Travis anywhere you go. Does that sound all right?”

“Yeah. Umm… thank you.”

“Mmhmm.” Jamal took a sip of his Coke, clearing his throat as he set it back down. “I know your opinions of me are mixed, at best, and that’s my fault. But I still try to do what’s best for my employees. The way I treated Bo to try and push him away and bury my own shame and guilt and God only knows what else… It was cruel and unnecessary. I don’t expect you to ever forget that or forgive me for what I did to him, how I made him feel, but I’m still going to try to make you both know that I’m trying to undo the damage I have done. So… this thing with Travis. If it gets worse, I need you to tell me so something can be done about it. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Chief.”

Jamal nodded. “Let me know how things go with Bo.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you posted. Night, Pitman, Frank.”

“Mm. See you tomorrow, Quinn.”

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