Serpentine

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  "There was also a book that talked about his crimes at the same time that he was losing control of his home life and his compliance job," Edward said.

  "And a television show loosely based on him came out."

  "So you're saying that it could be a law-abiding family man here in the area that's suddenly gone back to his old hobby?" Tyburn asked.

  "Other than BTK, I'm not sure anyone has ever gone inactive for even a decade and then resurfaced, without a jail term in between," I said.

  "Not two decades, no, but there are others that have married and started a family and stopped for a while," Edward asked.

  "Why would a family make them stop killing?" Olaf asked.

  "For some it seems to be about control; they can be responsible for their families and in control of that, so they don't feel the need to control strangers in the ritual of their killing," Edward said.

  I took the next part as if it was a conversational ball that he had passed to me. "For others it's almost like they're bored, so they kill. If their lives are full and busy enough in a positive way, not a stressful way, they don't seem to feel the compulsion to kill as often. If their lives become too stressful in a bad way, they seem to use murder as a way to release the stress."

  "You make it sound like it's exercise or sex, or even a hobby," Dalton said.

  "If it's the only way they can have sex, then they're less likely to take long cooling-off periods," Edward said.

  "The ones that take the longest cooling-off periods are the ones that seem able to have regular relationships with a wife, kids, et cetera," I said.

  "I thought the sexual serial killers felt a compulsion like an addict," Dalton said.

  "Even addicts can go into recovery," Olaf said, "if they want other things in their life badly enough."

  It took almost everything I had not to look at him as he said it. If he was looking at me, I didn't want to know. If I looked at him and then he looked at me, I didn't want to see it. I looked out at the sunlight on the ocean that stretched out and out, so that the road was like a pale ribbon running across brilliant blue cloth.

  "Most addicts don't rape and kill women," Edward said.

  "Does it really matter what someone is addicted to, if they are willing to fight the addiction?" Olaf asked.

  "Do you really think a twelve-step program would work for a serial killer?" Dalton asked.

  "Perhaps."

  Bernardo asked, "You said that the first woman that died twenty years ago had a fight with her boyfriend."

  "Yes," Tyburn said.

  "Did the other two women have fights with their husbands?"

  "None of them were married. The first one was traveling with her longtime boyfriend on vacation. The second was a local girl that had a reputation for sleeping around. The third woman was the oldest of the three victims; she was divorced and just starting to date again."

  "Were they all sexually active but unmarried?" Bernardo asked.

  "Yes."

  "Denny wasn't here with a boyfriend," I said.

  "She doesn't even know how to flirt well, because she's cried on Donna's shoulder more than once about how she just doesn't understand anything about dating or relationships. She wants a relationship, but sex puzzled her. There is no way that she fit into a victim profile that needed her to sleep around casually," Edward said.

  "It may be my fault," Bernardo said.

  I just had to turn my head to look at him. "How could it be your fault?" I asked.

  "Denny saw Bettina leaving my room with the other bridesmaids in their wedding. She and I talked in the hallway about how she wished she could enjoy casual sex like Bettina obviously had."

  "Was she hitting on you?" I asked.

  Bernardo looked up at me, smoothing his hand down the side of my hip. I don't think it was on purpose, more a nervous gesture. "Not exactly. She was more asking why she wasn't more like other women. She was seeing a therapist about her lack of sexual drive."

  "I didn't even know that," Edward said, "and she's Donna's best friend. How do you know that and Donna doesn't?"

  None of us protested that Donna would have kept Denny's secret. I think we were all pretty sure she'd have shared it with her husband-to-be, if not more people. "I wouldn't normally share any of this, but if it's important later and I don't share it . . . I'd rather apologize to Denny about breaking her confidence than keep it and get her killed because I didn't share it."

  "Share what?" I asked.

  "She's in her forties; she wants a permanent relationship, a husband or at least a live-in boyfriend. She dates just fine up to a point, but she wants companionship, not a lover, and most men won't settle for that."

  "You and Denny never dated each other. How do you know all this?" Edward asked.

  "She wanted a weekend with me, just sex, no strings. She just wanted to be with someone that was supposed to be a skilled lover and see if it made a difference. She said if I was half as good as I looked . . . Anyway, I agreed."

  Edward was sort of softly glaring at him. "She's a beautiful woman; of course you agreed."

  "Her therapist approved the weekend as an experiment."

  "Are you honestly telling me that you went to therapy with Denny?" Edward asked.

  "Her therapist had diagnosed her as asexual. I didn't even know that was a possibility as a sexual orientation until she asked me to help her."

  "Asexual, but Denny dated men--not a lot, but she dated. She was even engaged once."

  "But all the relationships broke up over the fact that Denny was just not interested in sex," Bernardo said.

  "You mean she was frigid?" Olaf asked.

  "No, according to her therapist that's an outdated term. Denny could feel love and was a very caring person, but she had almost no interest at all in sex. She felt it was ruining her chances at a real relationship and didn't want to be alone forever. I understood that part; for very different reasons, I think I'll probably never marry either. I don't mind as much as Denny did, but I'm conflicted about it, a little."

  "Why would she pick you of all of our male friends to confide in?" Edward asked.

  "Why? Because I'm a womanizer and haven't had a serious relationship ever?"

  "Yeah," Edward said, "there are friends of ours that would love to date her with serious intentions."

  "That's why me," Bernardo said. "She didn't want to disappoint anyone else. It took a lot of courage for her to come to me like she did. I respected that."

  "So you and Denny went to her therapist and got the doctor's blessing on a weekend of sex?" I asked.

  "Something like that, yeah."

  "You know, that's a new one on me," I said.

  "Me, too," Bernardo said.

  "How did the weekend go?" Dalton asked.

  "She is a lovely person, but she does not enjoy sex, or maybe she just doesn't understand why everyone else does. She's not frigid. She's warm and caring and has this great laugh, but sex just isn't her . . . thing. Her therapist interviewed me afterward by myself and then with both Denny and me. We compared notes and we parted friends. I swore I'd never tell anyone. I hope we find her alive so she can be angry with me about it."

  "Me, too," Dalton said, and she looked teary-eyed.

  "Me, three," I said.

  "When did all this happen?" Edward asked.

  "Two years ago."

  Edward shook his head and then clapped Bernardo on the shoulder. "I didn't notice a damn thing."

  "Nor I," Olaf said, and they both sounded surprised.

  "I'd never had a woman trust me with so much of themselves. I know it sounds weird, but I was more flattered that Denny trusted me with her secrets and her pain, than about the sex. I would never have told anyone if she hadn't been taken."

  "But how does you sleeping with the missing woman once two years ago get her in trouble with our killer now?" Tyburn asked.

  "We went to the hotel bar to have a drink and talk. We talked about how we both thought we'd never marry and wh
at that might mean for us. We talked about the weekend we had together in a public place where we could have been overheard." He looked at Edward. "The killer had to be there; it was the only time Denny could have been mistaken for slutty, because she wasn't like that. If the killer only takes women who sleep around, then I'm the reason that Bettina's dead, and the reason that Denny is missing."

  He lowered his head, as if he didn't want them to see whatever was in his eyes, even though he was wearing sunglasses so none of us could see his eyes, not even me. I felt his shoulders tremble, his breath came out shaking, and I knew he was crying. Quietly, controlled, but still tears. I probably should have pretended not to notice, but I already had my arms around his neck with the ponytail of his hair sliding over my skin. He had me wrapped up close and safe in an intimacy that neither of us expected from each other, but then I hadn't expected the man I'd seen at the pool who had chosen Bettina out of the bikini-clad crowd to have been so careful of Denny, or to be crying over both of them now.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and put my head beside his and hugged him as close as I could. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me even closer, and then his shoulders began to shake. He made almost no noise as he cried, but the tears spilled around his dark glasses against my skin. Edward put his hand at the back of Bernardo's head, against his hair. Neither of them could have cried in each other's arms like this, but since I was there for it, they could touch each other, around the edges.

  Olaf's arm stretched across the seat and touched Bernardo's shoulder. I glanced at him, more surprised by that than almost anything else.

  Tyburn was on his phone telling someone on the other end to find out who had been in the hotel bar yesterday when Bernardo and Denny had their talk. He especially wanted to know staff. We might have just narrowed our suspect list down to a manageable number in the time we had left to find Denny alive. I prayed again that we would find her alive. I held Bernardo while his body shook with silent weeping. Edward kept his hand on his hair and finally leaned his forehead against my arm and Bernardo's face, so we both held him. Olaf kept his hand on Bernardo's shoulder through the rest of the drive.

  56

  WE LEFT TYBURN and Dalton to try to narrow down the list of possible suspects at the hotel yesterday. Edward went off to call Donna so he could find out how Peter was doing, and to double check on Becca. Bernardo went off to get control of himself. He wasn't crying anymore, but he wasn't okay either. The rest of us went to the suite that Nathaniel, Micah, and I were sharing. The couch actually was big enough for R and R, plus Nathaniel and Micah, to sit in a row. Bram and Nicky found a piece of wall to lean against. I took the desk chair and faced them so I could tell them what I needed. Ru and Rodina volunteered, of course. Nicky said, "If you need me to do it, I will, but as your Brides, all three of us have a less complete connection to you than an animal to call."

  "I thought Anita's happiness was your primary concern," Bram said.

  "It is."

  "Then how can you suggest endangering Nathaniel like this?"

  "Because if Denny dies, that will make Anita very unhappy. I've learned to try to stay ahead of her moods and wants, if I can."

  Micah already had his arm across Nathaniel's shoulders, and now he hugged him and shook his head. "And the only reason you don't have more animals to call with you is because I asked you not to bring any other lovers besides Nicky. I trusted him not to intrude on our romantic weekend."

  "I do my best," Nicky said.

  "Of course it's not very romantic right now," Micah said.

  "No, no, it's not," I said.

  "It has to be me. I've done it once before with her, and our connection allows Anita to understand what I'm seeing and feeling more clearly than with anyone else here, even you, Micah." Nathaniel moved in Micah's arms, until they were entwined and he could kiss his fiance.

  Micah kissed him back fiercely. "I don't want it to be you, but I know that if I tell you no, and Denny dies, then we'll always wonder if it would have made the difference."

  I'd expected Micah to argue. He'd been my last defense against doing it. My pulse was suddenly thudding in my throat and my mouth was dry. I did not want to take Nathaniel anywhere near whatever had killed Bettina Gonzales. I did not want to endanger him again, damn it.

  "I will do it," Ru said.

  Nicky shook his head. "If one of the Brides has to do it, it has to be me."

  "Then why didn't you volunteer? Anita is terrified and very unhappy. Even I can barely breathe," Rodina said.

  "I've already said why I didn't volunteer--because we all know who's the best wereanimal for the job, and it's not us."

  "What if I said no?"

  Nathaniel untangled himself from Micah, and came to me where I was still sitting in the chair. He knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. With him on his knees and me sitting, our eyes were almost at the same level. I gazed into those beautiful eyes that always undid me if I looked too long. He leaned in and kissed me gently. My eyes were hot, my throat tight. Was I really going to cry? Surely not, not me. I had been the tough-as-nails vampire hunter once. I'd have liked to think I was crying for Denny, but I wouldn't lie to myself, and that wasn't why I was on the verge of tears. I didn't cry before it was time, and Nathaniel was safe in front of me.

  "You can't keep being so afraid you'll lose me that we can't live our lives, Anita."

  Rodina spoke from the couch. "Don't steal your victory before it's won, my queen."

  I gave her an unfriendly look. "You stay out of this."

  "I would give my life in place of Nathaniel's, because I can feel how much you love him and how much it would hurt you if he died, but he is right, my queen. You must be brave and allow Nathaniel to be brave with you."

  "But what if it all goes wrong?"

  "It won't," Nathaniel said.

  I looked deep into his eyes and said, "You can't promise that."

  He smiled. "Get them to let us have Nicky with us, to help wrangle me once I'm a big, bad leopard."

  "That's a good idea," Nicky said.

  I nodded; it was. "I'll talk to Tyburn about it."

  "He'll say yes," Rodina said.

  "How can you be sure?" I asked.

  "He's gone too far out on the limb to quibble at one more inch."

  I wanted to poke fun at her wording, or at least make a smart-ass remark, but I couldn't think of anything clever to say. I kissed Nathaniel and Micah good-bye and went to find Tyburn, with Nicky and Rodina trailing behind me. Ru stayed with Bram to watch over my two fiances. I'd keep them both as safe as I could for as long as I could. I left Nathaniel with two bodyguards and even Micah armed, and went to finalize the plans to take Nathaniel with me into the field, where so much could go wrong.

  57

  BY THE TIME we finished the discussion, Tyburn's people had a complete list of the restaurant staff and all the customer names they were certain of for that day. Hotel management had also given up a complete list of staff and people staying at the hotel. I got the impression that they would have given up the complete ingredient list to the secret sauce, if it would make this all go away and not give them the reputation for being "that hotel, you know the one where the bridesmaids were murdered." I honestly didn't care what their motivation was as long as they kept being this cooperative.

  Tyburn and his people would follow the names on the lists and see if they could find the killer from their end, and see if he/she/they/it would lead them to Denny. We'd look for Denny, because in that moment I didn't give a rat's ass if we caught the killer but lost her. Part of wisdom is being honest with yourself, and more than justice, I wanted to find Denny alive and well, or as well as possible. I did not want to have to stand over her dead body and imagine what her last minutes of life had been. No, just no.

  Nicky, Edward, Olaf, and I had put on all the gear we'd brought with us, or most of it.

  I was wearing the body armor vest that was specially made for curves men didn't
have, the two wrist sheathes complete with silver-edged blades. I didn't know if this monster gave a shit about silver or steel, but most of the things I hunted didn't like silver. The knives were for emergencies; the guns were the main thing. I'd tried to stop carrying my Browning for work, but I'd missed it too much. So it was back in a thigh holster over the tac pants. The Sig Sauer P238 .380 went in a MOLLE-rigged holster on the front of the vest for a cross draw. I had my AR-15 M4-styled carbine in a tactical sling. The AR was chambered in 6.8 SPC for a bit more bang for my buck. I was also using frangible rounds, which shattered once they entered a target, so if I shot Bad Guy A, the round wouldn't go through him and into Good Guy B. Frangible did mean that if I missed my target and hit someone else by accident, it would be bad, but I didn't plan to miss. I'd given up the knife that usually rode on my back, under my hair, so I could put my Mossberg 500 Bantam in a gun sock or a sleeve attached to MOLLE straps on the back of my vest. I carried the sleeve angled across my back for a right-handed cross draw over my shoulder. If I'd been sure we wouldn't be going into underbrush or some of the overgrown places I'd seen, I'd have just put both guns on tactical slings and pushed them back as needed. But they got tangled in thick brush that way, and I didn't want to get hung up in the trees. I had my cross tucked inside my shirt even though I doubted what we were hunting would care about holy objects, but it was like the extra ammo that I had in pouches and pockets on the vest and pants--better to have it and not need it than to die because I didn't have it. The last thing I added were earplugs that let me hear, until the shooting started, and then they'd lower the decibels and save my hearing.

  Bernardo wasn't with us yet, but I knew he'd be well equipped. We all preferred different handguns and shotguns, and we all had personalized our ARs.

  I stood there, decked out for monster hunting or a small war, in the bathroom of a hotel suite that was almost a twin of our room, with a police videographer about to record Nathaniel changing shape into a huge black panther. Tyburn agreed to Nicky being with me to help me control the wereleopard. I didn't really need help with Nathaniel in any form, but since Olaf was going to be with us, and we were hunting monsters, I wanted at least Nicky with us. I'd tried to include Ru or Rodina, because why not? The worst Tyburn could say was no. No big surprise. But Tyburn was going out on a limb just using a wereleopard to track a missing person. Including just one civilian put him further out on that limb; four would have been too much weight to bear, so I had to be happy with Nicky. I was happy, but I'd have been even happier if Nathaniel wasn't with us.