I offered my arm. He got a death grip on it and sat down. He made a small hissing noise between his teeth. "You said it would hurt worse the second day. Why are you always right?"
"Hard to be perfect," I said, "but it's a burden I've learned to cope with." I gave him my best bland face.
He smiled, then started to laugh, then almost doubled over with pain, which hurt more. He ended up writhing on the seat for a few seconds. When he could sit still again, he grabbed the dashboard until his fingers turned colors. "God, don't make me laugh."
"Sorry," I said. I got the aloe-and-lanolin Baby Wipes from the trunk of my car. They were great for getting blood off. They'd probably work on soot. I handed him the wipes and helped him buckle his seat belt. Yes, his wounds would have hurt less if he hadn't had the belt, but no one rides with me without a seat belt. My mom would be alive today if she'd been wearing a belt.
"Take a pill, Larry. Sleep in the car. I'll take you home after this next scene."
"No," he said, and he sounded so stubborn, so determined, that I knew I couldn't talk him out of it. So why try?
"Have it your way," I said. "But what have you been doing that you look like you've been trying to hide your spots?"
He moved just his eyes to look at me, frowning.
"Rolling in soot," I said. "Don't you ever watch Disney movies or read children's books?"
He gave a small smile. "Not lately. I've had three fire scenes where I just had to confirm the vamps were dead. Two of the scenes I couldn't find anything, just ashes. The third one looked like black sticks. I didn't know what to do, Anita. I tried to check for a pulse. I know that was stupid. The skull just exploded into ashes all over me." He was sitting very stiff, very controlled, yet his body gave the impression of hunching from pain, avoiding the blow of what he'd seen today.
What I was about to say wouldn't help things. "Vamps burn to ashes, Larry. If there were skeletal remains left, it wasn't vampire."
He looked at me then, the sudden movement bringing tears to his eyes. "You mean that was human?"
"Probably--I'm not sure, but probably."
"Thanks to me we'll never know for sure. Without the fangs in the skull you can't tell the difference."
"That's not entirely true. They can do DNA. Though truthfully I'm not sure what the fire does to DNA sampling. If they can gather it, they can at least know if it's human or vamp."
"If it's human, I've destroyed any chance they have of using dental records," he said.
"Larry, if the skull was that fragile, I don't think anything could have saved it. It certainly wouldn't have stood up to dental imprinting."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
I licked my lips and wanted to lie. "Not a hundred percent."
"You'd have known it was human. You wouldn't have touched it, thinking it was alive, would you?"
I let silence fill the car.
"Answer me," he said.
"No, I wouldn't have checked for a pulse. I would have assumed it was human remains."
"Dammit, Anita, I've been doing this for over a year, and I'm still making stupid mistakes."
"Not stupid, just mistakes."
"What's the difference?" he asked.
I was thinking that what he'd done to get his back ripped up was a stupid mistake, but decided not to say it out loud. "You know the difference, Larry. When you get over feeling sorry for yourself, you'll know the difference."
"Don't be condescending, Anita."
The anger in his voice stung more than the words. I didn't need this today. I really didn't. "Larry, I'd love to soothe your ego and make it all better, but I am all out of sugarplums and puppy-dog tails. My day hasn't been exactly a barrel of laughs either."
"What's wrong?" he asked.