beast was playing—and it could have been, since the thing was so obviously thrilled at getting to look at a corpse. Its glee blurred his vision; its delight made his stomach roil.
“You should go see if she’s okay,” Majowski said, still watching Ardeth’s back, her trembles visible even at a distance.
He was probably right. Yes, she’d walked away—she’d chosen to go stand by herself—but that was probably fear more than anything else. Fear that the men would think less of her, that they would make fun of her or dismiss her as some typically overemotional woman. Having one of them show her that wasn’t the case might matter to her.
But to do it himself…that wasn’t as easy as it seemed. They both seemed to have agreed to something of a truce, but he didn’t want her thinking he was taking advantage of that and hitting on her, or something. More awkwardness was the last thing they needed.
And, of course, there was the beast. It had been known to enjoy the misery of others. The thought of it feasting on hers, and making him share its twisted pleasure at her expense, made him feel even worse than the sight of Mercer’s mutilated corpse did. “You should go. I’ll get some pictures of him, see what I can figure out.”
“I can take pictures,” Majowski said. “Unless you’re afraid of me digging around in your phone.”
It didn’t warrant a full smile, but his lips curved a little anyway. “No, I’m not.”
“So you’re afraid of her?”
“What—where the hell did that come from? I’m not afraid of anything. You’re the one who said we don’t have a lot of time, so I’m trying to get this done fast.”
“She’s pretty,” Majowski said, in a just-making-conversation kind of tone.
Speare leaned in to get a close-up of the gaping wound where Mercer’s left shoulder had once been. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Then you’re stranger than I thought. And a liar.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket and gave Majowski a look that he knew showed every bit of his irritation. “Maybe you don’t have anything important to do right now, but I do. So why don’t you go over there and ask her out, or whatever the hell it is you want to do, and let me get on with solving a murder?”
“She’s not my type,” Majowski said.
Speare stared at him. Was he trying to act like a creepy idiot, or was he just an actual creepy idiot? “You just talked about how pretty she is.”
“And she is. Doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with her.”
“If you don’t want to go to bed with her, your tastes must be really fucking weird,” Speare said without thinking, and then immediately regretted it. Why not just hang a sign around his neck that read I WANT HER ?
Even though he didn’t.
Majowski caught that, too. His eyes gleamed for a second—
gotcha!
—but he took mercy, for whatever reason, and shrugged. “Is it really fucking weird to prefer dick?”
Shit. “Oh. Sorry, man.” Shit shit shit. “I didn’t mean—”
Majowski laughed. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Really.”
Maybe he should go see if Ardeth was okay. At least that way he wouldn’t be kneeling there feeling like an asshole.
But just as he was about to stand up, footsteps sounded behind him. She was back, her face a tad paler than it had been and her eyes a little swollen and watery, but back, and businesslike again. “So, what do we know so far? Did you find a mark, Speare?”
He didn’t even detect any huskiness in her voice. That took effort, he knew. Control. Where had she learned it?
But then, someone in her line of work would need that skill. “I haven’t looked yet.”
“What have you guys been doing here, then?”
He couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or amusement in her voice, so he’d pretend it was the latter. Either it would lighten the mood further or it would fuck with her, and both of those sounded pretty good. “Talking about you. Right?”
Majowski
“You should go see if she’s okay,” Majowski said, still watching Ardeth’s back, her trembles visible even at a distance.
He was probably right. Yes, she’d walked away—she’d chosen to go stand by herself—but that was probably fear more than anything else. Fear that the men would think less of her, that they would make fun of her or dismiss her as some typically overemotional woman. Having one of them show her that wasn’t the case might matter to her.
But to do it himself…that wasn’t as easy as it seemed. They both seemed to have agreed to something of a truce, but he didn’t want her thinking he was taking advantage of that and hitting on her, or something. More awkwardness was the last thing they needed.
And, of course, there was the beast. It had been known to enjoy the misery of others. The thought of it feasting on hers, and making him share its twisted pleasure at her expense, made him feel even worse than the sight of Mercer’s mutilated corpse did. “You should go. I’ll get some pictures of him, see what I can figure out.”
“I can take pictures,” Majowski said. “Unless you’re afraid of me digging around in your phone.”
It didn’t warrant a full smile, but his lips curved a little anyway. “No, I’m not.”
“So you’re afraid of her?”
“What—where the hell did that come from? I’m not afraid of anything. You’re the one who said we don’t have a lot of time, so I’m trying to get this done fast.”
“She’s pretty,” Majowski said, in a just-making-conversation kind of tone.
Speare leaned in to get a close-up of the gaping wound where Mercer’s left shoulder had once been. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Then you’re stranger than I thought. And a liar.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket and gave Majowski a look that he knew showed every bit of his irritation. “Maybe you don’t have anything important to do right now, but I do. So why don’t you go over there and ask her out, or whatever the hell it is you want to do, and let me get on with solving a murder?”
“She’s not my type,” Majowski said.
Speare stared at him. Was he trying to act like a creepy idiot, or was he just an actual creepy idiot? “You just talked about how pretty she is.”
“And she is. Doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with her.”
“If you don’t want to go to bed with her, your tastes must be really fucking weird,” Speare said without thinking, and then immediately regretted it. Why not just hang a sign around his neck that read I WANT HER ?
Even though he didn’t.
Majowski caught that, too. His eyes gleamed for a second—
gotcha!
—but he took mercy, for whatever reason, and shrugged. “Is it really fucking weird to prefer dick?”
Shit. “Oh. Sorry, man.” Shit shit shit. “I didn’t mean—”
Majowski laughed. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Really.”
Maybe he should go see if Ardeth was okay. At least that way he wouldn’t be kneeling there feeling like an asshole.
But just as he was about to stand up, footsteps sounded behind him. She was back, her face a tad paler than it had been and her eyes a little swollen and watery, but back, and businesslike again. “So, what do we know so far? Did you find a mark, Speare?”
He didn’t even detect any huskiness in her voice. That took effort, he knew. Control. Where had she learned it?
But then, someone in her line of work would need that skill. “I haven’t looked yet.”
“What have you guys been doing here, then?”
He couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or amusement in her voice, so he’d pretend it was the latter. Either it would lighten the mood further or it would fuck with her, and both of those sounded pretty good. “Talking about you. Right?”
Majowski
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