KillerThe killer looked at the boy at his feet and fought a rising irritation. How come the kid still looked so good? Death hadn’t done a damned thing to diminish the little queer’s looks. Wasn’t right. When you’re dead, you oughta look the part.
The boy hadn’t sensed danger until just before the bullet splintered his sternum and punctured his heart. The man gave a disgusted sigh and stowed the small handgun in his waistband. Then he calmly walked down the dark alley, moisture from the boy’s lips drying on his half turgid p***s tucked in his trousers.
* * * *
Albuquerque Police Detective Calvin Grajek muttered a curse as the telephone interrupted a set of curls. Early morning calls at home were never good, and this one was no exception. Body. Alley. Yeah, he’d go straight there. He hung
