Flash Friday on a Saturday, fingers flying, mind in stasis, might read that way too in Flash Friday

“Detective Reese,” he didn’t extend a right hand for shaking, “You the forsenic tech?”
“Yes sir,” abe said withdrawing his own shaking hand “Abe Mort —“
“Yeah, kid, I’m not going to remember your name, face, position. Whatcha got.”
“A checking account full of ashes, an ex-wife and debt.”
“Again, I’m not interested you in, what have you got on the case.”
“A savings account, no ex, seemed current on debt.”
“Yeah, what about on the computer, you’re the foresenic tech guy right? A summery please.”
“A lot of mostly human porn.”
Reese sighed, “Collectively?”
“Huh?”
“Was every ‘model’ mostly human, or was most of the porn entirely human with a fruit, vegetable or baboon thrown in.”
“The first one.”
“That was a joke.”
“Just the same sir …”
“A little respect for the gold badge, huh, son?”
“And some for the rubber gloves too, sir.”
Reese sighed again, rubbed his jaw, “what do you make of it?”
“Photoshop. These weren’t downloads, well, not the way he kept them. He did the photo shopping himself. Not like bestiality, more artsy; cheetah ears here, a brindle tail there, shark eyes on the soft core S&M, tribal tat’s on a minx pelt on the romantic shots.”
“Does it mean anything to you?”
“I’m thinking he got paid for it. I don’t mean commissioned or a single buyer, but I think he did them more for a market than spanking his own monkey.”
“Reese grunted, he didn’t need another opportunity to express his frustration with the tech. “What draws you to that conclusion? Receipts? A little black book? Frames?”

“Sort of. The email folder has a lot of messages from what looks a lot like a boyfriend, you know, intimate small talk, nothing overt, but obviously together, intimate.”
“And?”
Photos were all aggressively hetero.”
“That’s weak.”
“It’s an opinion. You can read the objective evidence analysis next week.”
Reese shot him a look like he’d need a toothpick when he was down sucking the marrow from the techs bones.

“I’ll shoot for Wednesday, we’re a bit short staffed. Me.”

“Got any other ‘feelings’?”
“Yeah, the place is trashed, like in a hurry trashed, not random, probably pre-meditated, hard to tell if they found what they were looking for, but it doesn’t look like they asked.”
“Hows that?”
“Body was under some papers and post mortem contusions from it looks like, a vase, an ashtray, and a couple of books. COD looks like a pro; two to the chest, one to the head, hollow point 9mm.”
Reese grumbled thank you in a harsher tone than most folks say fuck you.