Page 122 of Cold, Cold Bones

“Would you like breakfast?” Ryan asked around a mouthful of eggs.

“No.” A crumb rode Slidell’s upper lip, like a tiny biscuit caterpillar clinging to a leaf. I guessed he’d already downed a McMuffin.

“Pull up a chair,” Ryan said.

Slidell kept pacing. “There’s a psycho out there got you in his crosshairs.”

“Calm down,” Ryan said.

I said nothing.

Slidell shifted his ire to Ryan. “This mutant’s worked your girlfriend into whatever degenerate fantasy he’s spinning for himself.”

Girlfriend?

“We’ll get him,” Ryan said.

“Fuckin’ A,” Slidell snapped.

The intensity of Slidell’s emotion surprised me. Did his anger stem wholly from concern for my safety? Or from frustration over failing to catch the “mutant”?

Slidell mistook my silence for belligerence.

“I mean it, Doc. This guy’s wiring is twisted. You can’t pull any more of your stunts.”

“Stunts?” Annoyance sharpening the edges of my response.

“I don’t mean this.” Flapping a hand at the Ziploc.

Slidell and I glared at each other. Both knowing what hedidmean. Both knowing he was right. Which increased my sense of vulnerability. Which increased the annoyance.

“This prick’s stalking you,” Slidell said. “He knows where you live. How to get in.”

“He’s never come inside.”

“He hooked a dead girl’s goddam locket on your doorknob!”

“You havehers.” Petulant. And unnecessary. “This one is a duplicate.”

“Jesus F Christ!” Slidell whipped back to Ryan, wired into tomorrow. “Did she tell you what this freak’s been doing?”

“We were just getting to that.”

Ryan bunched and tossed his napkin. Crossed his right ankle onto his left knee. His legs stretched almost the width of the table. Slidell removed his overcoat and leaned against the counter.

An hour later, all of us afloat on coffee, Ryan had the whole story.

“All these recent remains mimic cases you worked in the past?” Ryan’s expression was now as dark as Skinny’s.

“Yes,” I said.

“What about the hit-and-run?”

“I’m not sure if that fits in, though my guess is we’ll find that it does.”

“Got any idea who would do this?”

I shook my head, again feeling weak and exposed. And dependent on others for my safety. On these two. And hating it.