Six Dead Men by Rae Stoltenkamp Page A

Her eyes began to swim with tears again.
    God don't cry. How many times had guilty suspects cried in his presence and not once did it affect him in the way Madison Bricot’s tears did. It twists me up inside worse than my bloody "you're so guilty" gut. On reflex Deed reached into his back pocket and drew out his neatly folded handkerchief. He passed it across the desk to her.
    She sobbed as she accepted it. Deed waited in silence as she gradually calmed herself, blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. He thought she clutched at the piece of fabric as though it were a lifeline. When she finally spoke he had to lean in to hear her.
    “I think it’s me.” she whispered.
    “What do you mean Miss Bricot?” Just explain this to me so it makes sense Madie.
    Her voice was small. “I mean me. I’ve done this.”
    Deed smiled even though his stomach knew she was right.
    He saw the conviction of her statement written in her expression. Her anguish was affecting him in a strange way. Deed suddenly wanted to prove to her she was completely wrong. He wanted desperately to make her see she could in no way possible be answerable for the deaths of these men.
    You can’t be responsible; you’re just a slip of a thing. “You? How exactly did you do this? You weigh hardly anything at all. There’s no indication of poison. You don’t have the strength to kill these men and there’s no physical evidence to prove they were killed with a weapon. Do you mean you poisoned them in some way? She can't have done. The lab results found no toxic substances. You only feel this way because you knew them, that’s all. It’s just coincidence. It has been known to happen you know, coincidence I mean.” Why am I trying so hard to convince her? Or am I trying to convince myself?
    “You don’t understand. It was me! I know it was!”
    “Well then how did you kill them Madie?” Deed was shocked by his use of her first name. Oh God. Has she noticed? No, she hasn't . But he liked the way it felt when her name passed over his lips, like a sigh of contentment. He wanted to say it out loud again. Madie... Fuck, focus Robert. Deed pulled himself back to the interview. His inability to accept she was guilty seemed to be affecting her greatly. She was crying again and chewed on her bottom lip. She made no attempt to stem her tears with his handkerchief. They fell freely as she tried to articulate why she was guilty.
    “I...I....”
    Madie stood up from her chair abruptly and paced backwards and forwards in front of Deed’s desk. He could feel the tension and confusion radiating from her stiff-legged walk. Deed stood and walked around the table. He caught hold of the tops of her shoulders and steadied her with his hands. She's like a startled deer. Beneath his touch he felt her begin to still. It's like I can feel her emotions through my hands. He heard her breathing become less ragged and felt some of the tension in her body ease as she leaned in towards him slightly. Her scent rose to his nostrils and engulfed his senses. Deed tightened his grip on her shoulders and drew her in towards him. His arms seemed to move of their own accord and wrap themselves around her frame. The detective in him knew he was crossing over the bounds of conduct. It seemed though that Robert, the man, could not help himself.
    A moment of slow motion pleasure stole over him as he felt her body heat seep through the cotton of his shirt. His heartbeat quickened. Everything else stilled. The office sounds from the squad room became muted. The very air seemed in a state of stasis. He closed his eyes, revelling in the moment and his lips brushed against her hairline in an unconscious kiss. She stiffened and pulled away from his embrace.
    “No...” Madie whispered. Then, “No!” in a clearer, more definite tone. She tried to pull away from Deed. But Deed, the man was reluctant to release her from his embrace. She dropped his handkerchief as she placed the palm of her hand