You and I, Me and You by MaryJanice Davidson

Author:MaryJanice Davidson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chapter thirty-three

“That is why their homes are so tidy!” I moved as if to leap to my feet, only to find I was already standing. Ah. Cadence and her wandering-while-randomly-touching-things affectation.

“Heeeeere’s Shiro!”

I ignored him. “Remember, they fully expect to die that day, so they know the police will be called. They know strangers will be walking through their homes; they know family will have to go through their things. They are obsessively tidying their homes with that in mind.”

“That’s amazing. You’re gonna be dead; who cares if somebody sees your dirty underwear?”

“Some people have things called feelings, George, and those feelings make us care about what other people think, even those we do not know.”

This time, it was George’s turn to shudder and get goose bumps. Heh.

“We wondered how he or she or they was cleaning their homes, or how he or she or they was getting their victims to do it under duress … they were not doing it under duress! They were doing it of their own volition.” I grinned down at George. “You were quite right. I did want out. That has been bothering me and bothering me.”

“What a fuckin’ genius, this guy! This is the perfect MO if you wanna kill people but hate all the prep and the mess.” George was unable to keep the admiration from his tone. “This guy. Man.”

“Perhaps you shall have cocktails after we catch him or her or them,” I suggested.

“Don’t tease,” he begged. “Listen, should we even be looking for him at this point?”

“Even for you,” Emma Jan said quietly, “that’s too much.”

“Hear me out! He’s going to suicide clubs, maybe finding his victims online or whatever, but he knows they’re people who want to kill themselves. They’d do it themselves if they had the balls, right? They don’t, so he wants to help.”

“I give up on you.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Emma Jan said, “but it’s still against the law. He’s still murdering them.”

“Does this mean the groups he frequents— When this gets out, that if you joined their group you could’ve been murdered, will they get more members or less?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the headache away. Unfortunately, George—honestly puzzled, which somehow made the whole thing worse—continued with, “Shouldn’t we be more interested in a killer who kills people who don’t want to die?”

“Well…”

“Do not get caught in the trap of his so-called logic,” I warned. “I admit it happens sometimes. But you will never forgive yourself later.” I turned to the bewildered sociopath. “She is correct. It is against the law. We will catch him and stop him. The end.”

“Okay, but for the record: I don’t get it.”

“For the record, we do, so fear not.” I looked at Paul. “You brilliant man. However do you do it?”

“I told you. He comes to them because he believes he believes he thinks they want to be orange. Then they won’t, they won’t be orange. He tries to make them be, but he can only make them be blue.

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