“I told you, I didn’t kill them.” Raphael fell backward onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? This has been my punishment . . . that if I care for a woman, if I have sexual intimacies with her, she is killed.”

“But . . .” Gabriel lowered the knife in his hand. That didn’t sound like a legitimate punishment. Death to a mortal wasn’t something even a Grigori demon would condone. “Why so long into your relationship with them? And why wasn’t there evidence of intercourse with either Anne or Jessie?” It was crude, but he felt like he had to ask.

Raphael stayed on his back, expression rueful. “I don’t know why it happens when it happens. And there was no evidence of intercourse with Anne because I was the coroner. I lied, thinking it would help your case. I didn’t want to see you rotting in prison. As for Jessie, the reason is because we didn’t have sex that night. Doesn’t mean we didn’t plenty of times before that.”

He put his hand out, not wanting details. “Okay, I got it. But if I believe you, which I’m not sure I do, then who killed them?”

“I don’t know. I wish I knew.”

Pacing back and forth in the narrow room, Gabriel felt the humid heat, the small space, the lack of answers, pressing in on him. The floors were the original wood planks, dusty and nicked, but there was no evidence of where Anne’s blood had been in front of the bed. The stain had been sanded away. But Gabriel couldn’t make it disappear as easily. He wanted, needed, to know who would have done such a thing. If it was punishment for him, for Raphael, or a horrible sick quest that had nothing to do with either of them.

His cell phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was Sara’s number. He wanted to answer it, but if she was calling, then clearly she was okay and he needed to finish this conversation before he spoke to her.

“You can answer it,” Raphael said. “I don’t care.”

“It’s too late. She hung up.” Phone in his left hand, knife in his right, Gabriel stared at the shutters. What the hell was he supposed to do? He knew he had to do something, knew there was a key, something he was supposed to accomplish before he would be free, but he had no idea what it was. He wanted to solve these murders but didn’t know where to look next.

Raphael’s cell phone started ringing, his ring tone an irritating hip-hop song.

Pulling it out of his pocket, Raphael glanced at the screen. “It’s Sara. I’m going to answer it.”