Sleep No More

women at the same time?”

“What? No.”

“I don’t mean in the same bed. I mean, have you slept with two women concurrently? Both for a long period of time?”

The lawyer shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable with some memory. “I was in that situation once. For a couple of months.”

“Two months isn’t really long enough. I was in that situation for five months one time. And something happened that I remember to this day. When I started sleeping with the second woman, her periods were three weeks off from those of the first woman. But by the third month, their periods had synchronized. And they stayed synchronized.”

Penn nodded thoughtfully. “I think it’s well known that women who live together-roommates, or girls living in the same dorm hall-sometimes get synchronized periods.”

“Yes, but something mental could be operating there. What I’m describing is different. Neither woman I was sleeping with was conscious of the other. Certainly not of when the other woman’s period was. And all I can think is that somehow, something was passing between those two women. And it could only have been passed through me. You see? Hormones, cells of some kind…I don’t know. Cole’s had the same thing happen to him. This is weird stuff, but all I’m trying to show you is that even in this day and age, we understand very little about some things.”

“I’ll concede that much. But what do you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to keep your mind open enough to help me in the way I really need help. That’s all. I’m a hell of a lot more afraid of Mallory Candler hurting my wife and child than I am of going to prison for murder. So…what do you think?”

Penn took a deep breath, sighed, and looked up at Waters with deep compassion. “I think I’m your lawyer, John. And I think no jury in this state is going to buy what you just told me as a defense for murder. Not unless we’re going for a verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity. That’s all I know for sure. And today, that’s what we have to work with.”

Waters wasn’t sure what he had hoped for, but Penn’s refusal to even consider what he believed to be the truth drained something out of him. A debilitating fatigue settled into his limbs.

“I’d be irresponsible if I told you anything else,” Penn added.

“Of course. I understand. So. What do we do now?”

“We go to the path lab and give blood for the DNA sample.”

“Right.” Waters took the Mini-DV tape from his back pocket and slid it across the desk.

“What’s this?”

“The tape of Lily and me in bed. If I’m arrested at the lab, I don’t want the cops to find that on me.”

As Penn put the tape into his shirt pocket, Waters suddenly thought of Annelise sitting in class at school, oblivious to the storm gathering around her. “I need to call St. Stephens before we go.”

“All right. Anything wrong?”

“I just want to make sure my daughter’s in class. Where she’s supposed to be.”

Penn looked long and hard at his client. “I understand. No problem, John.”

The pathology lab was housed in an unobtrusive medical plaza near St. Catherine’s Hospital. Penn drove them over in his Audi. The nurse took them straight back to the lab when they arrived, but instead of finding Tom Jackson waiting for them, they found a technician from the police crime lab. Penn seemed pleased, and Waters soon saw why: the forensic technician said little and asked no direct questions.

Waters sat in the phlebotomist’s chair while a med-tech inserted a needle in the antecubital vein in the crook of his elbow. As his blood ran into the tube-evidence that could one day end his life-he watched Penn standing nearby, likely pondering the intricacies of murder defense. Waters thought only of Annelise, whom his phone call had verified as being safe in class at St. Stephens. He would check on her constantly today, for until Mallory moved out of Lily and into someone else, Ana was in critical danger.

The med-tech ripped off the Velcro tourniquet. “Press down hard,” she said, pointing at the cotton swab she’d placed over his vein. She took a scraping from the inside of Waters’s cheek, then dismissed him.

Penn looked at the police technician. “Satisfied?”

After the cop nodded, Penn took Waters’s arm, led him outside, and helped him into the passenger seat of the Audi. Then he got behind the wheel and started the engine.

“I know that was hard to take. Makes you feel like a felon, doesn’t it?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad Tom Jackson wasn’t there.”

“Yes. Informal questioning is hard to control. When your mind is on something else, you tend to say things you might not have meant to say.” Penn pulled the Roadster out of the lot and onto the highway. “But I have a feeling Tom is going to hit you hard this afternoon.”

Waters nodded, but his mind was already far away.

The little convertible quickly ate up the distance to downtown, and as Penn turned into the back lot of Waters’s office, Waters glanced down Main Street and saw Cole’s silver Lincoln protruding from the line of cars parked on the left.

“What are you going to do between now and three?” Penn asked.

“Probably stay right here.”

“Do you mind me asking why?”

“I’m going to try to do some work. Some mapping. It’s all I can think to do.” He lied because Penn could not help him in the way he needed help. “Something normal, you know?”

“I understand. But Cole may show up today. Be careful about confrontations at this point. Today is a critical day, and we don’t know what he knows about you and Eve.”

“I doubt he’s even coming in today.”

Penn squeezed Waters’s arm and gave him a warning look. “Don’t trust him, John. Never again. Cole Smith does not have your best interests at heart.”

“I hear you. Do you have my tape?”

Penn reached into his pocket and brought out the small plastic case, then passed it to his client.

“Thanks.” Waters shook his hand, got out, and closed the door.

“I’ll pick you up here at a quarter of three,” Penn said.

Waters nodded, then turned and trotted up the back stairs.

Cole sat at his desk, staring at the signed Number 18 Ole Miss jersey framed on the wall, but the glassy sheen in his eyes made it clear that his mind was elsewhere. Waters walked softly into the room and stopped a few feet from the desk.

“Hey!”

Cole whipped around as though he’d heard a gunshot. “Shit, Rock! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Are you expecting company you don’t want to see?”

Cole splayed his hands on the desktop as if to steady himself. “I’m always expecting that.” He slid open his top drawer and took out what appeared to be a short-barreled Magnum.357.

“What the hell is that for?”

Cole laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s loaded. Where you been?”

“Giving a blood sample to the police for a DNA test.”

“Shit.” Cole’s smile vanished. “Did Penn Cage tell you to do that?”

Waters was taken aback. “How do you know Penn is my lawyer?”

“Lily told me. She called up here a little while ago, worried sick.” Cole slid the.357 back into the drawer.

What the hell is Mallory up to? he wondered. She could have called my cell phone. Why would she call Cole?

“I didn’t think Penn Cage took clients. I thought he just wrote books.”

“He’s doing it as a favor to me.”

“Celebrity lawyer, huh? I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

“He knows what he’s doing in court.” Waters let his eyes drill into his partner’s. “But that’s not the kind of help I need right now.”

Cole’s big head turned slowly, like that of a battle-scarred old bull. “Talk to me, John Boy.”