It was so warm and soft, yet firm touching her. I didn't hear her say it the first time, but she said it again that she was a lesbian. I just nodded my head. We had talked a lot about relationships and stuff, but she always managed to leave the gender of her lovers as generic, and not knowing any lesbians, I assumed she was referring to guys. She then told me she really liked me and that she wanted to show me. Again, I just nodded my head. She laughed and said she wanted to show me by making love to me. I just nodded again.She really laughed and leaned in and kissed me. It was perfect. Our mouths were close and the kiss was chaste at first, but we both opened our moths at the same time and our tongues emerged. Her hands moved to my hips and pulled me in and we wrapped each other up. Her body against me was so alien, yet so right. I could feel her breasts pressing against me, our hips touching. It was incredible. Our kiss deepened and I could feel myself flooding in. In exactly the same way that he had killed her mother. But because her mother was black they had never made the connection to crimes that bore a remarkable resemblance to her mother’s death. So now she knew. Knew who killed her mother. She even knew why. The FBI had profiled the man extensively before his death. After he had converted to Christianity he had been among the most cooperative of their subjects. He had spent hundreds of hours talking with the team about why he committed his crimes, how he chose his victims. It was all there. And none of it mattered. None of it made any difference. Her mother was still dead. She had still grown up never knowing the woman. Her father had died under the cloud of suspicion. And her? Her whole fucking life, almost thirty years, had been about solving this one case. Finding her mother’s killer. She knew all the psycho-babble about closure. Where was that closure? Even knowing all that she knew now…it still did not make sense. It was still as.
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