Chapter 4Eli, Casey, Rufus, and Mortimer
Theodore had nothing more to say to me that January night once he insisted he wasn’t Johnny, but fate might have been yelling. Waiting in my pile of mail when I got home hours later was a ransom note from Casey.
It was rare I could solve one in under a minute. This was no exception. The note started with a hard d**k captured in mid-ejaculation. Casey hadn’t settled into prudishness post college. Part of what took me so long to solve the rest of the rebus was trying to figure out if the tiny, coming c**k—tiny picture, not the c**k itself—was his, one of his f**k buddies,’ or something from the internet.
After the d**k was the number two, and then a small picture of a map of New York. Once I got that far, I went back to the d**k and figured Casey w
