No Strings

Chapter 7

Sex with Sarah has always been easy and fun. Even when I go all alpha on her it's done in a playful way. But that morning I hadn't felt particularly playful. I had been genuinely angry with her and that was frightening.

I was thinking about this as I stood over the dead body of an elderly man, lying in the middle of the most depressing living room I had seen in a long time, and I have seen a lot of depressing living rooms, believe me. He had an obvious head wound and there was a hell of a lot of blood soaked into the carpet and glancing around I could see it sprayed on the walls. When I had come into the flat,  there had been a big bloody hand print on the hall wall.

"Dead when you arrived?" I asked the paramedic.

"Yup. No pulse whatsoever," he said, picking up his bag to go.

"Cause of death," Mo asked coming up behind me, careful not to stand on any of the debris strewn on the floor. 

"Can't say Maurice. Could be suspicious. Could be an accident."

"All that blood everywhere. Looks suspicious to me."

"We'll get forensics in," I said, tiptoeing out of the room. "Crime scene. We're shutting it down," I said to the uniform police officer who was hanging around outside. "Don't let anyone in until forensics get here. Where's the bloke that found him?"

Back in the car, Mo grabbed for the sandwich he'd been eating before we'd gone in. 

"Seriously?" I asked.

He ignored me. "You're looking tired, mate," he said around a mouthful of bread and ham. "What goes?"

"Nothing goes," I said wearily as I turned the ignition. "Nothing that concerns you anyway."

"Ah," he nodded knowingly. "Woman trouble."

"When do I ever have woman trouble?"

"Not often, but that is the face of a man who is being pussy whipped."

"What are you now? Fucking psychic?"

Mo laughed. "I'm a talented police detective, that's what I am. I can't help it. I am also an expert on men who are pussy whipped. Ask the wife."

"Well I'm not being pussy whipped," I said sulkily as I stopped at some traffic lights. 

"Scary Claudia?"

"Fuck off."

He went pleasantly quiet for a while, just chewing, then unfortunately carried on. He was a persistent sod. "That little fuck buddy of yours still giving out?"

"Fucking hell, Mo. Is this an appropriate on-duty conversation topic?"

Mo nearly choked on the remains of his sandwich. "Since when did you care about protocol mate?"And then he stared at me, his eyes scarily wide. "Ah ha!" he cried pointing his finger at me.

I just scowled at the road.

"It's the fuck buddy isn't it? She's getting you all tied up in knots! I predicted this would happen."

"Will you stop calling her that. Her name's Sarah."

"Her name's Sarah," Mo mimicked and I couldn't help laughing.

"You are a wanker," I told him and we pulled into the station carpark. Hopefully that was the end of this particular conversation. I needed to get Sarah out of my head if I was going to stand a chance of getting any decent work done today.

___

"What do you think Jake does for a living?" I asked Nina who was slurping on a huge cup of diet coke.

"I thought you didn't care?"

"I don't care but I have to admit I'm a bit curious. Don't you think it's odd that he's never mentioned it?" I said, trying to convey nonchalance, by staring into space while shoveling pop corn into my mouth.

"I thought you didn't have conversations? He's hardly going to bring it up in the middle of shagging you is he?"

"I asked him this morning, straight out and he didn't even tell me. He just smirked. Do you think he does something really dodgy or something he's ashamed of like working at Homebase?"

"For God's sake Sarah," Nina said impatiently as she fished around in her bag. "I bet he does something so ordinary it's not worth talking about - like a plasterer or something."

"I can imagine him doing manual labour. He is strong."

"I bet you can ...," she said, finding her phone and switching it to silent. I saw her pause for a moment, the phone still in her hand. "Hang on a minute ... what do you mean you asked him this morning?"

Shit. Why did I have to mention that? 

"I bumped into him on the way home from the cafe," I mumbled through a mouth of popcorn.

"Bumped into him? Is that your excuse now?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You wouldn't have asked him what he does for a living during a quick conversation on the street, would you?" Nina was too bloody clever for her own good sometimes. And she knew me too well. "You shagged him didn't you? Between breakfast and meeting me here you got your rocks off? I hate you sometimes, Sarah Morgan."

I shrugged my shoulders. There wasn't much point in denying it. I was a terrible liar anyway.

"I thought you said you weren't going to do him any more and you wanted a man you could have a relationship with? You said this to me ...oh," and she theatrically looked at her watch, "3 hours ago."

"I couldn't help it. He made me."

"What do you mean 'he made you'?" Nina shrieked and then realising she'd been a bit loud, lowered her voice, "He forced himself on you?"

"Oh God no," I back-tracked. "He just has this way of saying things that makes me want to do what he says."

"Oh Sweet Jesus, Sarah. Are we talking BDSM?" Now she thought she was whispering but Nina's whispering level wasn't exactly quiet. "On a Saturday morning? Does he have a Red Room?"

"No he doesn't! And keep your voice down," I said as I heard an obvious snigger come from behind me. "The film's starting."

"I really don't think I want to see 'Fifty Shades of Grey' now," she muttered. "Too bloody close to home."

I swallowed a laugh and jabbed her in the ribs with my elbow. "Not exactly. I'm no virgin and Jake is hardly a billionaire."

"Shut up," she hissed and then said in my ear, "I will be having firm words with you young lady when this film has finished."