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I realized that he had his own version of Ted’s “Aw, shucks ma’am/sir,” except this was genuinely a part of Newman and not an act to manipulate people. Newman was as nice as he seemed, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing in this job, but one problem at a time.
“Trish, just Trish,” the nurse said with a smile, but it didn’t quite fill up her brown eyes. There was discomfort in them. Maybe she hadn’t liked being introduced as Nurse Trish. She hadn’t felt free to correct the doctor, but apparently, she thought it was fine to correct a marshal. In the world of the hospital, the doctor had more clout.
“Well, Trish, thank you for taking the time to help us today,” Newman said, giving a reassuring smile that must have melted the hearts of women who were looking for a nice guy.
She flashed him a smile that showed a dimple in one cheek. It made her look younger, lighter, as if the smile lifted some burden of seriousness that she’d been carrying. I hadn’t noticed until her face lit up that she was pretty. There was a glimpse of a woman who, with her pixie haircut and darker eyeshadow, might go dancing. I was betting in a dance club she wouldn’t be wearing kittens and unicorns on her clothes, but you do what you can to cheer yourself up when your job is dealing with other people’s misery.
Dr. Jameson frowned at the nurse as if he’d caught her flirting, and maybe he had. “You said you had some questions for Jocelyn.”
“Yes, sir,” Newman said.
“I don’t understand why you want to talk to me again,” Jocelyn said, still stirring her food around on her tray.
“We just have a few more questions for you, Jocelyn,” Newman said.
“What questions? You know what happened to Dad, and you know that Bobby did it. What else do you need to do your job?”
She looked up at us then, and I realized she had used more eye makeup than I’d thought. It was subtle, but it brought out her eyes. She aimed all that beauty at us like a shield. Her eyes were a deep, rich brown, large in the smooth perfection of her face. She was even more beautiful than she had been before, and it wasn’t until I sensed how angry she was that I realized that was it. Telling women that they’re beautiful when they’re angry has become a cliché, but for some women, it was true. Jocelyn Marchand was one of them. I began to see how it might have been hard for Bobby to see her as just his sister, and the moment I thought that, I knew it wasn’t right. Plenty of beautiful women and handsome men have siblings who never think a single incestuous thought about them. It was more than beauty that made the difference.
“We just want to double-check our facts, Jocelyn, that’s all,” Newman said.
“What facts, Win?” she asked, voice impatient. She half dropped, half tossed the fork onto her food tray as if what she really wanted to do was throw the whole thing across the room. Anger was the second stage of grief, and she had plenty of things to grieve.
“Bobby says that you and he . . . spent time together after dinner,” Newman said.
Jocelyn shook her head hard enough for her curls to swing. She crossed her arms over the front of her hospital gown.
“Okay, then, what did you and Bobby do after Ray went to his study?”
“We didn’t do anything together!” she said, and it was almost a yell. She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and breathed deep and slow as if she was counting to ten. She was so angry, and she was right there.
All I had to do was touch my hand to her bare arm, and I could feed on all that rage. I took a few deep breaths myself then, because it wasn’t like me to see a crime victim as food. She was hitting my radar as food, and I didn’t know why. I thought I had all the metaphysical hungers under control, but maybe not. Crap, I did not need this right now. Jocelyn Marchand had been victimized enough. I would not add to that because I was some creepy anger vampire. Just thinking that all the way through hurt my sense of self a little. I spent half my time thinking I’d already become a monster and the other half fighting not to make it a reality. I was a little conflicted about some of my supernatural abilities. Maybe Jocelyn was more than a little conflicted about having sex with Bobby?
“Bobby says you spent the evening together,” Newman said, voice gentle.
“Well, he’s a liar!”
“I know you went out with friends, and Bobby stayed home.”
“Then you know I did not spend all night with him. You know he’s lying.” Jocelyn looked up at Newman with those big brown eyes, giving him the full impact of that lovely face, willing him to believe her.
“So you didn’t see him change into his leopard form before you left the house?”
“No, I shut the door to my room so I wouldn’t have to see anything across the hall.”
“It must be hard with the rooms right across from each other,” I said.
Jocelyn looked at me then, giving me the full weight of her eyes, the face. She knew the effect she had on people. Nothing wrong with that. I was marrying someone who knew it, too.
“I was hoping to get a job and an apartment of my own, but now I don’t know what’s going to happen.” The loss and confusion filled her eyes before she looked down at her lap.
“Did you know Bobby planned to turn into his leopard that night?” Newman asked.
She shook her head without looking up. “It was the dark of the moon. He never changed form then.”
“Any idea why he decided to change that night?” Newman asked, as if asking why Bobby had decided to change clothes instead of skins.
Jocelyn stared at her hands as they plucked at the white sheet. “I think so. I’m afraid so.” Her voice was almost a whisper. The anger was fading into something else, but since I didn’t feed on any other emotion, I couldn’t tell what she was feeling.
