Chapter 13 #4
“What did you want me to say? I’m going to bring a civilian down to perform her own examination on the bodies we brought in that look just like her.”
“No, but you could have been a little more creative.”
“I think it went fine. The tears were a nice touch.”
“Yeah, well the only reason we even got any tears was because that last one kind of felt like half-melted wax and I got corpse ick on me now. It was either cry or vomit. It might still be both if we’re not careful.
” She rubbed her hand all up and down my arm, trying to wipe off whatever sensation was freaking her out.
We reached the SUV, and I opened the door for her. “So… did you see anything?”
“Yes, I saw something.” She glanced at me, her tone filled with irritation as she reached into her bag, pulling out a wet wipe to thoroughly scrub her hand.
The way her eyebrows pinched together and the tips of her ears turned red indicated she was not enthused with our little outing.
If I wanted to stay on her good side, I should maybe get her a burger or… maybe pie—always made me feel better.
“Wanna share it with the class, princess, or do I have to guess?”
“God, give me a minute to process or I’m going to puke in your center console,”she said, teeth gritted, and got in. “Soooo—pie’s out of the question?” I closed the door at the dirty look she flashed.
I got in and waited, staring in bewilderment as she meticulously scrubbed every square inch of her fingers.
“You going all Monk on me, cupcake?” I chuckled.
She glared at me—the dirty look still firmly welded on her face. She didn’t say anything, not right away at least. She just… scrubbed.
“Do I have OCD? Not that I’m aware of. Do I have corpse grease on me? Yes.” She held out her hand. “If you don’t want me to scrub it off what do you suggest? Your tongue?” She pushed her hand to my mouth.
I recoiled. “God, no!”
“Well then, I will be scrubbing, boiling, and potentially submerging my hands in acid until the disgusting sensation of a wa-hhck!—” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Wa-hhck!—” She gagged again and held up one finger as she closed her watering eyes, holding it back.
After a moment, she shook her head and swallowed it down, abandoning whatever she was about to say.
“Until it goes away,” she whispered, three fingers rested trembling over her lips.
I sat in silence and waited, using everything I had in me not to make some stupid comment that could endanger my life or get the inside of my interceptor painted in her breakfast.
“Each time he takes a woman,” Maggie started, “at least with those three—he took them to an old abandoned warehouse, or maybe a boathouse or something? It’s dark, damp, and cold. I could hear the waves nearby.”
“Great. Because boathouses and waves are rare around here.” I sighed. “Any chance you recognize the guy?”
She paused, like she didn’t want to tell me something, then—
“No.”
“Max, if you recognize him, you gotta tell me. No matter who it is.”
“Even if it’s Derek?” she said, not missing a beat.
“Derek?! What do you mean, Derek?!”
“Oh, relax, it’s not fucking Derek.”
“Then why bring him up?”
“So you knew what it felt like to have someone tell you they thought someone you cared about was a serial killer.”
“So it is someone you care about?”
“I didn’t say that.” She tucked the wet wipe into the trash, burying it under fast-food wrappers and to-go cups, like looking at it would refresh a memory she was trying to forget. “Look, I didn’t see his face. He was wearing a mask each time.”
“Okayyy… and?”
“I also knew you were trying to lead me into thinking it’s Hunter. That’s what this whole thing is about, isn’t it? You can stand that he’s got me and you don’t.”
“Max, I—”
“No, listen.” Maggie turned in her seat to face me.
“I know you’re not happy in this situation.
Neither am I. But it is what it is, and we can’t put Hunter away for something he didn’t do, just so we can be together.
” She looked down, picking the corner of her thumbnail like she always did when she was scared or unsure of something.
“Besides, why would he go through all the trouble of killing these other women when I’m right here? ”
We pulled into the station’s lot. There was no interrogation set up with Nettles. That was just a lie to get her out of the house and away from him. Did I misuse my badge? Maybe. Would I do it again? One thousand percent and then some if it meant that for those few hours she was safe.
I led her into the lobby. The way my hand brushed the small of her back sent energy to places I didn’t need it.
I hated that I didn’t have an answer for her as to why he hadn’t killed her if he was the guy, because she was right—it didn’t make any sense. But what did make sense was that if it was Hunter—and I was pretty fucking sure it was—the curse was keeping him from killing her.
And if Hunter needed the curse not to kill her.
Maggie needed it to stay alive.
And that sucked more than the thought of having to share her with him.