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Yep. That last one did it.
Releasing a slow breath through pursed lips, I let my lids flutter open, finding Jameson watching me. One corner of my lips tugged upward.
“Okay, I’m ready.” With a flick of my wrist, I motioned toward the wall of pictures. “Let’s get started so we can stop this guy.”
“Unsub,” Jameson corrected. “I’m not one hundred percent sure this is a guy.”
“Explain,” Slade said from the couch. Leaning forward, forearms on his spread thighs, he took up the entire piece of furniture.
Turning my chair around to face Jameson straight on, I sank onto the soft cushion. After slipping off my sneakers and tucking both feet under the opposite thigh, I snagged the single decorative pillow in the couch’s corner and placed it on my lap, elbows pressing onto the top as I leaned forward, giving Jameson my full attention.
“Comfortable?” Jameson laughed.
“Yes. You may continue. Actually, can you grab me a Coke from the fridge?” I pointed to the small appliance that the coffeemaker sat on. “Then I’ll be ready. Need another caffeine boost.”
“You know,” he drawled as he yanked open the door, “with as much shit as you give Slade for those pills he pops, you’re not much better with all the sugar you eat and drink.”
“Yeah, but it’s different because I’m a doctor and I know how bad it is for me.” I accepted the chilled can. “And don’t tell me that doesn’t make sense because it does to me, and therefore I’m right.”
“Whatever you say, Doc. Okay—”
“Oh, and my iPad. It’s in my bag.” Jameson shot me a look. “What? You’ve thrown me way off my routine this morning. Normally, I have an hour responding to emails and finishing up reports in the peaceful quiet before doing all this.”
“This being…?” Slade asked.
“Talking. Interacting. Trying to act normal.”
“Youarenormal, Raindrop.”
I shrugged a shoulder as I took the iPad from Jameson’s outstretched hand. “Then I have you all fooled.” Dropping the iPad onto the pillow, I pressed my fingers together and attempted an evil laugh.
“Maybenormalis a strong word,” Slade said with a chuckle. “No offense.”
“None taken. I tell myself the same thing all the time.”
“Anything else? Your laptop? A foot rub maybe?”
Though I knew Jameson was being a smartass, I kicked out one foot, raising it high until it hovered near his chest.
“That would be lovely, actually. As cute as my expensive sneakers are, they’re uncomfortable until they’re broken in.”
My expectation of him smacking my socked foot away was dashed when he gripped it between two hands and pressed both thumbs into the arch, eliciting a whimper as the pain turned to relief.
“Oh fuck. I was kidding, but now I don’t want you to stop.”
“Do you two need a room?” There was a tightness in Slade’s voice that had me tensing.
With one last squeeze, Jameson lowered my foot to the floor, standing with a heated look in his honey-brown eyes.
“You asked why I’m not positive this is a male unsub.” Turning, Jameson strode to the far wall and pointed at a single picture. “Reasons I think it’s a female unsub. The blitz attack to the head as the first injury. It makes me think the unsub isn’t strong enough to subdue the young male victims without it. There’s also the point of entry into the houses.” He tapped the end of a pen against victim number two’s house. “This window is narrow. The notes in the report said it only opened halfway, which was probably why it was left unlocked. Sure, there are lots of men out there with leaner frames that could fit through that gap, but my training makes me lean more toward a woman. But then there are the obvious contradictions.”
I waited a few seconds for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Okay, out with it. What are the obvious contradictions to the theory that this is a female unsub? Because it isn’t obvious to me,” I said without looking up from the screen as I shifted through the blunt force trauma wounds on each victim.
“The mess.” I cut my eyes to Slade. Reaching over, he swiped the screen to the third crime scene. “That would bother most women. Plus, the blood splatter that would be on their clothes and coat their hands.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” I tilted my head to the side, hoping the new angle would make me understand what they were saying. “Why would the amount of blood point to a man or a woman?”
“Typically, in female offender cases, they don’t want to leave a mess for someone else to clean up. Which is why most go for poison or a tragic accident outside the home. Plus, the laundry aspect. Getting blood out of clothes is a bitch,” Slade added. “What?” He looked between me and Jameson as we stared at him. “I wasn’t a saint in college or after. I never started a fight, but I sure as hell finished them. And let me tell you, broken noses fucking bleed everywhere.”