Blood Debt

for any number of reasons."
    "Granted. But as he's still missing a kidney, let's follow this hypothesis for a while. Maybe your Patricia Chou's right about Ronald Swanson."
    "She's not my anything, and Swanson has a completely spotless life as far as the law is concerned."
    "So, he has to start somewhere."
    "Killing people for their kidneys seems a little far up the ladder to me." She shrugged noncommittally, but it was clear she wasn't going to let it go. Cops got that way occasionally, clinging to a theory based on nothing better than a hunch, often in the face of opposition. When it turned out they were right, they were said to have intuitive abilities beyond the norm. When it turned out they were wrong, as was more often the case, they were said to be pigheaded, self-absorbed, and unwilling to do the grunt work needed to break the case. That Vicki had been right more often than she was wrong made her no less pigheaded. "Now what?"
    "I think we should stop working on who and take a look at where."
    Impossible now to ignore the sun. Her shoulders hunched up as though expecting a blow from behind. "Mike, I've got to go."
    He lifted a hand to touch his cheek where a strand of wet hair had brushed against him. That, the lingering pressure of her mouth, and the faint taste of toothpaste, were all that remained to show she'd ever been in the room. The clock read 4:15. Sixty seconds to sunrise.

    Lying on her back in the pink bedroom, a hastily folded towel under her head to keep the pillow dry, Vicki wondered why she felt no guilt at all for the… for the… She frowned, realizing she had no clear idea of how many men she'd actually killed in the warehouse. The number had been washed away in blood.
    It didn't matter. Because they didn't matter. Not to her. Not their lives. Not their deaths.
    But Henry…

    "So the violence is fine, but the sex is a problem." She sighed and swiped at a drop of water dribbling from temple to ear. "Well, doesn't that just sum up the ni…"
    4:16.
    Sunrise.

    Celluci stretched out an arm and switched off the lamp. He'd be glad when midsummer arrived and the nights started getting longer.
    Not that more time would make Vicki more forthcoming, but it would give him more opportunity to get the truth out of her.

    "Good morning, Dr. Mui. You're here early."
    She glanced at her watch. "It is almost 6:45. Not exactly early. Did that blood work come back from the lab?"
    The night nurse passed over a manila envelope. "Everyone had a quiet night."
    "I didn't ask." Envelope tucked under one arm, the doctor stepped into the lounge and let the door to the nurse's office swing shut behind her.
    Bitch. But none of the sentiment showed through her smile just in case Dr. Mui glanced back through the open blinds on the windows that were the top half of the office walls—the clinic's attempt to simultaneously create both a feeling of security in its patients and to prevent the place from looking too much like a hospital. In a time of drastic health care cutbacks, the job paid too well to jeopardize. For what they were paying her, faking friendly with the dragon lady was the least of what she'd be willing to do.
    Averting her gaze from the ferns and Laura Ashley prints that adorned the lounge, Dr. Mui crossed to the closer of the two consultation offices, pulling the lab work out of the envelope as she walked. By the time she reached the desk, she was distinctly unhappy.
    "Stupid, stupid boy. How could he be such a stupid boy?"
    She sank into the chair and let the paper fall to the desktop. This changed everything.

    The phone rang just as he was pouring the tea. Although he drank coffee at the office, he drank tea at the house because Rebecca had always preferred tea to coffee—except when they were traveling in the States. "Where," she'd remarked, "they started out making it in Boston Harbor with cold salt water and hadn't ever quite gotten the hang of doing it differently."
    He pulled the receiver out of its base, tucked it under his ear, and barked a terse "Hello" while he went to the refrigerator for milk.

    "It's Dr. Mui. We have a problem with the donor. The blood test I had run last night shows him as HIV positive."
    "I thought he was clean?"
    "He was. I expect that when he heard the good news, he went out and celebrated."
    "This is going to be very awkward." He took the milk from the fridge and quickly closed the door. It would only cost a few pennies to leave it open, but he hadn't made a fortune