"No hesitation, no mess that wasn't on purpose. Yes, whoever did this knew what he, she, it, they wanted." Charlie looked around the room, not touching anything. There didn't seem to be anything out of place. Everything had happened in the kitchen.
"This wasn't about sex, but there was an intimacy. Why not bring them here?" Charlie stood at the foot of the bed. "Though intimacy does not mean going to bed. It could mean having a shared meal while watching a favorite show." His words had slowed, as if he were thinking. "Yes, they'd both have to die. We don't need to understand them to apprehend them, Jennifer."
Charlie moved toward her, his hand lifting to rest at her shoulder. It was a sight to see; one he really wished she didn't have to see, but she did, it was done. He gave her shoulder a pat and squeeze before he headed back toward the kitchen.
"This was a show. A meal shared." It wasn't exactly a joke about the bite marks on the heart. "There was an audience, even if it was just the woman. Although, I doubt one person could handle two like this easily without noise or more mess. This was something intimate. Something cherished and shared - it took time to do this. But, would someone share this with just the victims?"