“You’ve got a good eye, Darcy. That looks like it could be a size six. Maybe seven.”
“Six.”
“Well, to be sure, we should-”
“It’s six and five-twelfths inches long. That’s a size six.”
I’d been around this wunderkind long enough to know not to argue. “Let’s get some plaster out of my car and make a cast.”
“And after that?”
I grinned. Something about this guy brightened my spirits, just being around him. “I think you’ve earned a custard. Don’t you?”
He grinned excitedly. “Very Excellent Day! Very Excellent Day! Are you going to try the Strawberry Mash?”
“Maybe. What about you? Vanilla Toffee again?”
“I usually have Vanilla Toffee on Wednesdays and Strawberry Mash on Thursdays, unless there’s a new flavor, and then I substitute the new flavor for whichever flavor on my list has the most letters in its name. If there’s a tie, I cross out whichever one comes last in the alphabet, unless the Thursday falls on the last day of the month, ’cause then I reverse the alphabetical order and…”
He was so close. She was the third and final offering, and once he was done with her his work would be complete. He had crossed the Rubicon. The Golden Age would soon be upon them.
“You hurt me,” he said as soon as Lenore opened her eyes.
It was a long while before she could reply. Her eyelids fluttered as she slowly shook off the soporific. She parted her lips, then worked them slowly, soundlessly, as if taking them for a test drive. She tried moving other parts of her body and soon found that she could not.
He watched it all, reading her emotions as they raced through her head. Her first instinct was panic, but she stifled it. Even in this dazed state, she was smart enough to realize a cool head would be required if she was going to save herself. Her next emotion was anger, but that too she managed to sublimate. She thought that he was probably some kind of sexual deviant-how could she know?-and that she was more likely to survive by acting submissive and helpless. And waiting for her opportunity.
It was more than a minute before she actually spoke. “I-I’m sorry. I can see your hand is sore.”
“I don’t mean there,” he said. He placed his injured hand over his heart. “I mean here.”
“I-I-I’m sorry,” she said. She must be tired, lethargic from the drug. But he still sensed that she was playing him, exuding vulnerability until she had enough strength to make a break for it. Poor little offering.
“There was no justification for that sort of behavior,” he said firmly. “You forced me to retaliate in kind. I was not pleased.” He lowered his head. “I abhor violence.”
“I-I guess I just panicked.”
“So you did.”
“Why can’t I move my arms or legs?”
“I’ve given you a little something.”
“Is it… permanent?”
“It will wear off altogether soon, if I don’t give you another dose.”
“I-I’d rather you didn’t.” She was laying it on a bit thick now, he thought, with the stuttering and plangent baby-girl vocalization.
“Then I won’t.”
“Really?”
“I give you my word. No more injections.” He paused. “It won’t be necessary.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you feel that way. Um…” She batted the lashes over those lovely Asian eyes. “Sir? Am I naked?”
“You are. Cap-a-pie. And let me just say-never have I had an easier time removing someone’s clothing.”
“So you’ve… you’ve done this before?”
“Once or twice.” She was testing, exploring. To his surprise he saw that she was already able to move the fingers of her right hand, just a bit. A strong girl, this one was.
“Are you a dentist?”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t have a degree. But I am not without skill.”
“Are-are you going to remove my teeth?”
“No, dear.”
“Are you going to remove… anything?”
He sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid I am. I do regret it. But it’s essential.”
“What… are you going to take?”
“Your head.” He revealed the axe she had discovered in the truck. “I should never have left this lying about. That was inexcusable.”
“Please don’t,” she said. Her voice was tiny, almost invisible.
“I have no choice, my darling.”
“I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”
“That’s most generous of you. But I can’t accept your offer.” He closed his eyes. “ ‘Vainly had I sought to borrow, from my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore.’ ”
“Don’t, sir. Please don’t hurt me.”
“ ‘For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.’ ”
“Please. Please!”
He smiled at her. “ ‘Nameless here forevermore.’ ” And then he raised the axe over his head.
12
Got to work without incident, thank God. Took a little more than I should’ve before I brushed my teeth, but it was right there in the open bottle, and I had to be sure I could work without distraction today, without that stifling, panicked feeling, without my temper getting out of control. I mean, it was one thing to be drinking last night. You needed something to get you through all those bizarre Poe stories. But in the morning? I probably shouldn’t have…
Damn them all. I can handle it. I can handle it. It’ll wear off in an hour or so, and I am not going to make a habit of it. It was just this one last time…
I slid behind my desk, bound and determined to avoid the obvious stereotype. Sure, I know the cliché. The FBI comes to town and the local cops get bent out of joint. They’re coarse and resentful. The Feebs are all cool, steely-eyed authority. There’s a lot of chatter about jurisdiction-wait, no-“turf.” That’s the way it’s supposed to happen, in TV shows and movies. And, unfortunately, in real life.
But I wasn’t getting sucked into that trap. I didn’t need any more problems and I certainly didn’t need anyone filing negative reports on me. I had to keep my job and to stay on my best behavior, at least until that custody hearing. So I was prepared to suck it in and be deferential. Why not? We were both trained professionals. Psychology was a fluid science. Two professionals could hold differing opinions and neither necessarily be wrong. There was nothing threatening about it, no harm in having a partner.