George nodded solemnly. He had caught onto that concept quickly.
“When I’m searching for somebody, I basically compare the way certain arthropods, like mosquitoes, ticks, silverfish, or any social insects, see them with the images I get from other insects. That’s why I’m always grateful when somebody has a place they frequent regularly, because that gives me a clear picture with many nuances. It’s also the reason I couldn’t get much from the cabin because I didn’t know any of the people who were there before. The picture I have of Theodora is vivid because she spends a lot of time inside her home. Which is good because the arthropods here at the lake, especially the ones who are active during the night, have a very different outlook on blobs. Luckily for us, there were some mosquitoes around when the victims were killed. They see humans similarly to ticks, and by comparing those two images, I can be fairly sure it wasn’t Theodora up here. Or Tabitha and Josephine. What they showed me was so vaguely familiar it could have been any woman I’ve met the past few days.”
“Hmm. This gives the contract killer theory a push.”
“Kind of. But two female contract killers working together?” Andi thought it was rather far-fetched. Then again, the most likely female culprits from their list of suspects were all crossed off now.
“Stranger things have happened. I wouldn’t dismiss it entirely, though I agree with you it’s unlikely.” George was on the highway now, pushing his Escalade to go faster. “Unknown players? Because I can’t remember any other female suspects sticking out. The enemies the victims made in business seemed to all have been male. The joys of a patriarchal system.”
Andi gripped the base of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The migraine was on its way.
“Pills are in the glove department. Water too.”
“Thank you, George.” Andi found the pills and swallowed two, buying himself the time to get home before the pain really hit, or so he hoped.
“There was something else about them, a substance the moths registered, just like at the cabin and Tabitha’s house, but I don’t know what it is. If we could find out, it could perhaps nudge us in the right direction. Or at least help me identify them.”
“Like with Castain?”
“Yeah. Like that. I hope. Problem is I have no clue as to what it could be.” Andi groaned, the headache pulsing more insistently against his temples.
“Don’t stress it. We can find out once you’re feeling better.” George shot him a worried glance. “We’ll be at your place in less than fifteen minutes. If you have to puke again, warn me.”
“Will do.” Andi closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. His stomach was empty, reducing the danger of him soiling George’s beloved car to a minimum.
Andi did register when the car parked in front of his house, but he had no recollection as to how he got inside and into his bed. The pain in his head had grown to a steady pulsing, drowning out anything besides the wish to push his brain out through his ears. Warm, strong hands held him up while he swallowed another two pills, washed them down with water. Those same hands laid him down on his bed, the sheets soft and cool, helped him out of his jeans, and pulled the comforter over him. He heard a whispered, “Sleep tight,” and then everything went blessedly dark.
11. Digging Around
GEORGE PUTa cold washcloth over Andi’s forehead, pretty sure his partner didn’t register and happy about it. Andi was out like a light and hopefully getting the rest he so desperately needed. George went downstairs to retrieve his overnight bag from the car. He hadn’t told Andi he would be staying with him because he was sure his partner would have been against it. Better to ask forgiveness than permission in this case because there was no way George would be leaving Andi alone and vulnerable. He’d seen the aftermath of what thegeschenkcould do to Andi more than once and was determined to be there for his partner this time and every time in the future. George brought his things into the small guest room on the first floor, where he could hear Andi should he need anything during the night. Then he drove to the next deli to buy everything for chicken broth, something light he could feed Andi in the morning. Back at Andi’s house, George checked on his partner, saw that he was still sound asleep, and went down into the kitchen to prepare the broth. He ate some grilled cheese sandwiches and salad before he put on the nature channel. Watching how eiders raised their chicks gave his eyes something to do while his mind went through all the possible scenarios of their murder case. He had hoped for Andi to recognize one or more of their prime suspects on the scene, but of course things rarely were that easy. George was fairly sure they had done a thorough job unearthing the pasts of the victims so far, which made him wonder what they had overlooked. Two strange females Andi couldn’t connect to any of their suspects gave the case a twist they didn’t need.
George sighed and leaned back on the sofa, putting his feet up. It looked as if they had to start from scratch, which heightened the killers’ chances to get away with it. He waited till the eider chicks were safely grown before he went to bed, the worry about both the case and Andi forming an anxious ball in his stomach that kept him from sleep till long after midnight.
BECAUSE OFhis bad night, the blare of the alarm on his cell was particularly unwelcome. George seriously considered staying in bed until he remembered why he wasn’t in his own bed to begin with. He quickly got up, went to the bathroom to get ready for the day, and on the way toward the kitchen, he made a stop at Andi’s bedroom. His partner was still asleep, though his restless movements meant he would wake up soon. George hurried to get tea and coffee going and to warm the broth, which wasn’t exactly what he considered breakfast food but smelled nice enough to make him hungry. Just when the coffee was done, he heard movement upstairs. Moments later, Andi came into the kitchen, his hair tousled, the T-shirt he had slept in wrinkled. He wore no pants and was barefoot, which gave the whole situation an air of domesticity George found vaguely disturbing for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with Andi being male.
“George?”
Andi sounded so confused, George had to make a conscious effort not to find him adorable.
“I’ve made tea.” George offered Andi a mug. “And chicken broth. Something light. Are you hungry?”
Andi sat down at the small breakfast counter, cradling the mug with both hands. “I think I could eat. It smells great.”
“Thank you.” George filled the two bowls he had already placed next to the pot with the soup. “Here you go.”
Andi accepted the bowl and the spoon, took his time to stare into the liquid while it cooled down.
“Did you sleep here?”
It was a surprisingly lucid question, considering the time of the day and Andi’s mental condition.
“Are you angry?”
Andi looked up in surprise. “No, not at all. Just wondering.” He took a spoonful of soup. “Where did you sleep?”
“In the small guest room upstairs. I didn’t enter your grandmother’s room.” It was one of the things George had learned quickly—to leave the bedroom of Andi’s beloved grandmother alone.
“I should clear it out.” The world of hurt in his partner’s voice was like a fist gripping George’s heart.
