I shook my head.
"No sex, then," he said.
I shook my head again. My heart was beating faster. I so did not want him to figure this out.
"Why not?" he asked.
I looked away then, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't have any moral high ground to preach from anymore, Edward, but I don't do casual sex, you know that."
"You're jumping out of your skin every time Bernardo comes near you."
Heat climbed up my face. "Is it that noticeable?"
"Only to me," he said.
I was grateful for that. I spoke without looking at him. "I don't understand it. He's a bastard. Even my hormones usually have better taste than that." Edward was leaning against the table, arms crossed over his white shirt. It was exactly how Bernardo had been sitting, but it didn't move me, and I didn't think it was just the shirt. Edward just did not affect me in that way and never would.
"He's handsome, and you're horny."
The heat that had been fading, flared until it felt like my skin would burn.
"Don't say it that way."
"It's the truth."
I looked at him then, and let the anger show in my eyes. "Damn you."
"Maybe your body knows what you need."
I widened eyes at him. "Meaning what?"
"A good uncomplicated fuck. That's what I mean." He still looked calm, unmoved as if he'd said something entirely different.
"What are you saying?"
"Fuck Bernardo. Give your body what it needs. You don't have to go back to the monsters to get laid."
"I cannot believe you said that to me."
"Why not? If you were having sex with someone else, wouldn't it be easier to forget Richard and Jean-Claude? Isn't that part of their hold on you, especially the vampire. Admit it, Anita. If you weren't celibate, you wouldn't be missing them as much."
I opened my mouth to protest, closed it, and thought about what he'd said. Was he right? Was part of the reason I was still mooning over them the lack of sex? Yeah, I guess it was, but it wasn't just that. "I miss the sex, yeah, but I miss the intimacy, Edward. I miss looking at them both and knowing they're mine. Knowing I can have every inch of them. I miss Sunday after church and having Richard stay over to watch old movies. I miss watching Jean-Claude watch me eat a meal." I shook my head. "I miss them, Edward."
"Your problem, Anita, is that you wouldn't know an uncomplicated fuck if it bit you on the ass."
I wasn't sure whether to smile or be mad, so my voice was a little amused and a little angry. "And your relationship with Donna is so uncomplicated?"
"It was at the beginning," he said. "Can you say that about either of yours?"
I shook my head. "I'm not a casual person, Edward, not in anything."
He sighed. "I know that. When you give your friendship, it's for life. When you hate someone, it's forever. When you say you're going to kill someone, you do it. One of the things making you squirm about your boys is the fact that for you, love should be forever."
"And what's wrong with that?"
He shook his head. "Sometimes I forget how young you are."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means you complicate your life, Anita." He raised a hand before I could say it, and said it for me. "I know I've screwed up with Donna, but I went into it meaning to be casual, meaning it to just be part of the act. You always go into everything like it's life or death. Only life and death are life and death."
"And you think that sleeping with Bernardo would fix all that."
"It'd be a start," he said.
I shook my head. "No."
"Your final word?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Fine, I won't bring it up again."
"Great," I said and looked into that blank, Edward face.
"Being with Donna has made you more personal, more warm and fuzzy. I'm not comfortable with the new Edward."
"Neither am I," he said.
Edward went back to his side of the table, and we both started reading again. Usually, silence between us was companionable and not strained. But this quiet was full of unsaid advice: me to him about Donna, and him to me about the boys. Edward and I playing Dear Abby to each other. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so sad.
21
AN HOUR LATER, I'd finished the witness reports. I stretched my lower back while still sitting in the chair, just bending slowly at the waist until my hands touched the floor or almost touched the floor. Three stretches, and I could press my palms flat to the floor. Better. I got up and checked my watch. Midnight. I felt stiff and strange, estranged from this quiet room and the peaceful surroundings. My head was filled with what I'd read, and what I'd read hadn't been peaceful.
Standing, I could see Edward. He'd moved to the floor, lying flat on the floor, holding the reports up in front of his face. If I had lain down, I'd have been asleep. Edward always did have a will of iron.
He glanced at me. I got a glimpse of what he was looking at. He'd moved on to the pictures. Something must have shone on my face because he placed the pictures face down on his chest. "You finished?"
"With the witness reports, yeah."
He just looked at me.
I went around the table and sat in the chair he'd started the night in. He stayed lying on the floor. I would have said like a contented cat, but there was something more reptilian about him than feline; a coldness. How could Donna miss it? I shook my head. Business, concentrate on business.
"The majority of the houses are isolated ones, mostly because of the wealth of the owners. They've got enough money to give them land and privacy. But three of the houses were located in developments like the Bromwells' with neighbors all around. Those three attacks occurred on one of the few nights that all the neighbors were gone."
"And?" he said.
"And I thought this was going to be a brainstorming session. I want your ideas."
He shook his head. "I brought you down here for a set of fresh eyes, Anita. If I tell you all our old ideas, it may lead you down the same wrong paths we've already taken. Tell me what you see."
I frowned at him. What he said made sense, but it still felt like he was keeping secrets. I sighed. "If this was a person, I'd say he or they stake out the houses night after night, waiting for that one night when all the neighbors were out of the way. But do you know the odds of an entire street clearing out on any given night in the suburbs?"
"Long odds," Edward said.
I nodded. "Damn straight. A few people had plans for that night. One couple went to a niece's birthday party. Another family had their once a month dinner with the in-laws. Two couples from different crime scenes were both working late, but the rest of the people didn't have plans, Edward. They just all left home about the same time on the same night for different reasons."
He was watching me, eyes blank, but steady, intense, and neutral at the same time. From his face I didn't know whether I was saying something he'd heard a dozen times before, or something brand new. Detective Sergeant Dolph Storr likes to stay neutral and not influence his people so I was kind of used to it, but Edward made Dolph seem positively loaded with influence.
I continued, but it was like slogging through mud without any feedback at all. "The detective in charge of the second case, he noticed it, too. He went out of his way to ask why they left their houses. The answers are almost identical where the police take the time to ask details."
"Go on," Edward said, face still blank.
"Dammit, Edward. You've read all the reports. I'm just repeating what you already know."
"But maybe you'll end up someplace new," he said. "Please, Anita, just finish your thought."
"They all got restless. A spur of the moment trip to get ice cream with the kids. One woman decided to go grocery shopping at eleven o'clock at night. Some of them just got in their cars and went for a drive, no place in particular. Just had to get out for a while. One man described it as cabin fever.