Chapter 16: Knives
Bo rolled his eyes for the thousandth time as he pulled up to the Sinclair house. Without a word, he hopped out and strode over to Katrina's side, pulling her from her seat and tossing her over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" she asked, still clutching the bag with the knives.
He said nothing, taking her straight down to Vincent's workshop.
"Take. Her." Bo insisted, tossing her down on the bed Vincent sometimes used to nap on if he worked all night on a body. "All she's done the whole way home is talk about clothes!"
Vincent drew in his breath, staring at her new appearance. She smiled at him.
"Do you like it?" she asked shyly as Bo made his way back upstairs.
He nodded, and then remembered what Bo had told him. He walked over and stood before her. "I am sorry."
Katrina stood up, running her hands along his arms. "I know. I'm sorry too."
"Why? You did nothing."
She sighed. "I know she's beautiful," she told him. "I shouldn't get mad at you for stating a fact."
Vincent shook his head. "No. You are more beautiful. I would . . . never want her over you."
"You don't have to . . ."
He reached down slowly and put his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Katrina."
She smiled and hugged him. "I have something for you."
Vincent looked surprised. Katrina opened the bag and pulled out two of the knives.
"Look what I found," she said softly, handing him the knives in their beautiful black sheathes.
He held one up and drew it out, drawing in his breath, his artistic mind reveling in its beauty. Running a finger along the blade up to the hilt, he saw the silver oval, engraved with the name Katrina. With a smile, he handed it back to her. "It is beautiful."
"No, silly. Look at the other one."
Vincent pulled the sheath off of the other knife and stared. It was if he couldn't believe his eyes. His fingers traced over the beautiful calligraphy of his name. "For me?" he asked in disbelief.
She nodded. "Yes. A matching pair. One for you and one for me."
"Why?" he asked, still fingering the knife. "Why for me?"
"Well . . . I got knives for Bo and Lester too," she said uncomfortably. "But only yours and mine match." She pulled out the other two knives. "I wanted to get them something . . . you know, to say thank you for letting me stay and being so nice to me and all that."
He blinked, confused. "But why did you get matching knives for me and you?"
Katrina bit her lip. "You don't like it?"
"I love it. It's just that . . . I don't understand. No one has ever given me something like this before."
She took his hand. "I got it for you because . . ."
Before she could finish, Bo tossed Vera's corpse down into the workshop. "I'm comin' down," he called. "Y'all better be decent. I don't mind seein' you, Kitty Kat, but Vince better have somethin' on."
Katrina laughed. Vincent blushed. Bo walked down the stairs carefully, one hand over his eyes. He peeked out between his fingers and raised an eyebrow.
"What's goin' on?" His gaze rested on the knife Vincent was holding. "Now that's a mother fucking knife!"
"I got you a knife, just not the same one," Katrina said, handing him the knife with the jagged edge. She watched, chewing on a thumbnail, as he drew it from the sheath.
"It's an ebony hilt," Katrina said hurriedly as he ran a thumb over his name. "And the blade is ten inches. You can do most anything with it. The clerk said it will slice right through bone."
Bo merely nodded, not wanting to show how pleased he was. "It's a fine blade." He strapped it onto his belt with a grin that Katrina took to mean thanks.
She smiled at him before turning back to Vincent. "You look tired," she said. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want to go up and get some sleep?"
Bo shook his head. "He can't. He's got to work on this one." He kicked Vera's body in the ribs. "If he can fix the face."
Katrina grinned sheepishly and hugged Vincent. "He can do anything."
"Uh-huh. Okay. I'm goin' to get some shuteye," Bo said. "Listening to you on the way back here exhausted me." He stepped over the corpse and went upstairs.
Katrina yawned. "I'm going to stay down here and watch this time," she told Vincent. "But first I'm going to run up to the house and get my new nightie."
She winked at him and ran up the stairs.