"It does."
"I'm not sure how I feel about that."
"Don't worry, Detective. Your deep, dark secrets are safe with me. Besides, I won't access your thoughts unless you give me permission."
"Do you know how crazy that sounds, Sam?"
"I do."
"Are we both crazy?"
"Maybe."
Sherbet stared at me. He was an old-school homicide investigator. Strictly by the books. Just the facts, ma'am. Logical, rational, tough, fair, street smart. A skilled investigator. Then one day a vampire appeared in his life - granted, a cute and spunky vampire - and his neat little world came crashing down.
"I wouldn't say crashing down, Sam. Maybe turned upside down a little. And, yes, I know I'm reading your thoughts again."
I grinned. "Maybe we should get to why you're here."
He sat straighter. "Gladly. Which is an odd thing to say about a serial killer."
"He struck again," I said.
Sherbet nodded. "Corona this time."
"Drained of blood?"
He nodded. "Completely. Same M.O. Massive wound in the neck. Knife wound, we think. Bruising around the ankles. Found this one wrapped in a blanket in a ditch."
"Female?"
"Male."
"So he's alternating his kills," I said. "Male, female, male."
Sherbet thought about that. He also thought about another donut. A moment later he was pulling out a strawberry French cruller that looked all kinds of delicious.
"It will be," he said, reading my mind again without realizing it. "And I suppose the killer is. Three males, and three females. As you know, that doesn't fit the typical profile. Serial killers tend to stick to one gender."
"Unless they're after something besides kicks."
"They? You think there might be more than one killer?"
"Like you said, it doesn't fit the profile."
"Same pattern, though."
"All drained of blood," I said.
"The work of a vampire?" he said.
"The work of someone," I said. I found myself watching his every move as he worked on the cruller. Crullers had been my favorite. "Vampires don't need that much blood."
Sherbet stopped chewing. "And how much blood does a vampire need?"
"Sixteen ounces or so, every few days."
At least, that's how much were in the packets of animal blood I received monthly from the Norco butchery.