Drop Dead Sexy(29)

Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned forward for a better look. Although they began at the same base, they grew separate of each other. Neither one was circumcised, which considering Randy’s age wasn’t too surprising. I couldn’t help wondering if they were both functional for urination…and for sex. How in the world does one have sex with two dicks?

“One in each orifice or maybe double-dicking one hole?” Catcher suggested.

Mortification filled me not only because I had somehow managed to verbalize my inner monologue, but at how Catcher had answered. I didn’t want to imagine anyone “double-dicking” a hole, especially not Randy. It was hard enough picturing him having missionary sex least of all something kinky like that.

Damn. No wonder he had never married.

It was then I realized the others had crowded around the bedside to get a closer look at Randy’s endowments. Both Todd and Ralph wore the same expressions of wide-eyed wonderment. I guess I couldn’t blame them. Considering how men felt about their manhood, this would be like hitting the Powerball in the penis lottery.

Todd blinked a few times before asking, “Uh, Olivia, have you ever seen anything like that?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Doesn’t that—” Ralph paused to motion to Randy’s crotch area, “have a name?”

“Diphallia,” I replied at the same time Catcher said, “Freak.”

I shot him a scathing look. “Don’t you even have a shred of decency in you?”

He grinned. “Sorry. It got shot to hell the moment I saw the dude had two dicks.”

Catcher’s comment, coupled with the absurdity of the moment, caused the others to break out in hysterical laughter. I rolled my eyes at their antics. “Excuse me, gentleman, but regardless of the victim’s endowments, I still have a job to do. So, if you’ll please give me some room.”

“By all means,” Catcher replied.

“Thank you.” Not wanting to appear weak in front of Catcher, I rolled Randy over myself. Once he was on his side, I examined his back lividity. Here’s some fun forensic facts for you. When a body had been dead between two and eight hours, you could press the skin, and the color would disappear. With a body that had been dead twelve hours, the color stayed. It was kind of crazy that poking around a corpse could reveal so much.

I pressed the four fingers of my right hand onto Randy’s back. I was immediately met with the icy cold that takes over a body within one to two hours of death. The clinical term was Algor Mortis.

When I removed my fingers, the colored remained. I glanced back at the others. “We’re looking at least at twelve hours.”

“So maybe the murder took place sometime around nine last night?” Ralph suggested.

“Yes. Let me take his temperature.” After I dug my thermometer out of my bag, I started to spread Randy’s butt cheeks when Catcher stopped me.

“Do you seriously have to do that in his ass?” he asked with a disgusted look.

I rolled my eyes as I thrust the thermometer into Randy’s rectum. “Yes, Mister Big Shot Agent Man, I do. Just like when you’re alive, rectal temperature is the most accurate.”

Catcher shuddered. “I’ve only seen it done under the arm when I’ve been on investigations in the past.”

Choosing to ignore him, I focused on reading the numbers. “He doesn’t have two *s, does he?” Ralph asked.

“No. Just the one.”

I heard Ralph exhale in relief. In the first twelve hours of death, the temperature would decease 1.4 degrees Fahrenheit every hour while after twelve it went to .7 degrees. Once I measured Randy’s temperature, I used the calculator on my phone to determine the equation. “Based on both Rigor and Algor mortis, I would guess the murder took place sometime between nine thirty and ten PM.”

Both Ralph and Catcher nodded. “That gives us something to go on until he comes back from the crime lab,” Catcher said.

When I eased Randy onto his back, a sense of déjà vu filled me when another horrified chorus echoed through the room. But this time, I screamed with them. Both of Randy’s dicks were at full attention.

“Hold the phone. Is he not dead?” Todd demanded.

“Why he’s deader than a doornail,” Ralph replied.

Now that I’d had a moment to collect myself, I felt silly for my over-the-top reaction. “Postmortem erections, while rare, do occur.”

Catcher shook his head. “I’ve seen people who shit and pissed themselves, but that’s a new one.”

“I guess when I put Randy on his side, the shifting lividity sent the blood forward to his penises.”

After scratching his chin, Catcher asked, “So if they both got hard post mortem, does that mean they were both functional when he was alive?”

“I would assume so. But since blood isn’t pumping through the cardiovascular system, it’s hard to tell.”

It was at that moment with the four of us standing around eyeing Randy’s pumped up peckers, that Agents Solano and Capshaw came into the bedroom. Both of them skidded to a stop, their expressions frozen in disbelief.

“What. The. Hell,” Agent Solano said while Agent Capshaw appeared to be trying not to vomit.

“You guys look surprised. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a dead guy with two hard cocks?” Catcher grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes.