“Why is it chauvinist to say that I’d be better at teaching Newman how to be a man than you would be?”
“He’s a man already, all grown-up. We’re talking about teaching him how to do this job. Yes, you helped teach me, but I’m good at the job now. So why are you a better teacher than I am?”
“I’m not saying I’m better at helping people learn the ropes. I’m saying that I think I might be better for Newman right now.”
“It still seems like some macho bullshit that I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“We don’t have time for egos and feelings here, Anita. I think you’ll sympathize with Newman and the Marchand kid too much to help Newman figure out what he needs to do. I won’t.”
My anger washed over me like heat, and I felt the beasts stir inside of me like my soul writhing to the beat of my anger. Fuck. I did not need this right now, and just like that, I thought, But what does Newman need? Was Edward right? Would some man-to-man talk benefit Newman more than my marshal-to-marshal relationship with him? I didn’t want to kill Bobby now. I knew what the skin of his neck smelled like when I held him close. It was always harder for me to hurt someone after a certain level of physical closeness. It was like, at some level, I equated physical with emotional intimacy. My therapist and I had been talking about that, among other things.
Thinking about things too complicated for my beasts could either quiet them or make them lash out in frustration. This time it quieted them. I could almost feel them thinking, You complicate your life, human. I couldn’t even argue with them.
I nodded. “Okay. How do we get you some one-on-one time in the middle of an investigation?”
“You’re giving in just like that?” Edward asked, frowning at me as if he suspected a trap.
“You’re right. I’ve gotten too close to Bobby Marchand. I saved his life once by putting my body between him and a gun. It would feel weird for me to kill him now, so maybe I can’t help Newman work through his own feelings about it. It’s not about being male or female. It’s about me being emotionally compromised in a way that you are not, which makes you a better partner for Newman right now on this case.”
“Exactly that,” Edward said.
“I am impressed that you worked through your anger so quickly,” Olaf said to me.
“Thanks. Therapy is a many-splendored thing.”
“Whatever tool works for you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.”
“Normally, I’d just ride with Newman once we meet up with him again, but that leaves the two of you alone,” Edward said.
Olaf and I looked at each other. Did I want to be trapped inside a car with him? No, hell no. I had a moment to realize that it wasn’t him going all serial killer on me that made me hesitate. I believed he’d behave himself until the case was complete The problem was the kiss that I’d somehow let him manipulate me into, or I’d somehow been willing to do. He’d asked for my consent. I’d said yes. But once you say yes, it’s harder to say no later without the man in question getting upset. I did not want to be trapped in a car alone with Olaf when he got upset with me, and I didn’t want to kiss him again. I’d decided I’d say no and make it stick from now on, but the no would have been a lot stronger if I’d never crossed the line. What the hell had I been thinking?
“I think we will be fine on our own, but Anita’s expression says she will not agree.”
I didn’t like his being able to read me like that, but he wasn’t wrong. “You confuse me, Olaf.”
“In what way?”
Edward pulled into the gravel parking area in front of the sheriff’s station, and it startled me. I’d been so wrapped up in worrying about Newman and Olaf, that I hadn’t realized we were there. Shit, I had to do better than this. “In a lot of ways.” I saw Newman’s Jeep coming up behind us. I nodded in that direction. “Newman’s here. He didn’t go home to get a hug.”
“He wanted to be alone,” Olaf said.
I just nodded and shrugged—about this he was right. We’d barely gotten out of the SUV, but Newman was parked and coming our way. He was excited about something.
Newman called out, “The women are both at their homes. I left messages for Helen Grimes, the cook at the Marchand house. We can interview them now and hope Helen gets back to us soon. I want to double-check Jocelyn’s story ASAP. If they confirm her story, then Bobby is crazy and doesn’t know what’s real and what’s fantasy.” He’d sounded more certain of himself until he said the last part. He rallied though and gave us his tough-cop look. Sometimes the look isn’t for bad guys or for hiding stuff from others. Sometimes it’s for you to try to convince yourself that you’re really as tough as you need to be.
I went toward Newman’s Jeep, but he said, “It makes more sense if you and I split up so that one of us that’s more familiar with the case goes on each interview. I’ll take Jeffries with me, and you can go with Forrester.”
“I think I should go with Newman,” Edward said.
And just like that the moment of decision was here. I had to put up or shut up or something like that.
Newman shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Anita has explained why my earlier behavior was unprofessional. I give you my word that