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“I’ve been the zombie expert on more than one case. Evidence from supernatural witnesses can be presented in such a way that a judge will let it in.”
“That’s after the case is strong enough to go to court. We don’t have a case against either Jocelyn or Rico,” Livingston said.
“Damn it,” I said.
“I know a judge that might be willing to hear the video, but I’ll have to call in some serious favors,” he said.
“If you can get us a warrant to search the Marchand house and Rico’s house, I’m betting we’ll find something,” Edward said.
“I don’t know if I can swing a warrant for both just on Hazel’s story—it’s hearsay—but I think you’re right. If they are in it together, then there’ll be something to find. I’m betting at his house, because why would we ever search there?” Livingston started punching buttons on his phone. We got his promise to call if he found a way to get us a search warrant.
Edward, Olaf, and I went out to the porch and stood among all the families and couples waiting for the best breakfast in three counties, which is, I guess, why they served it all day long. Some of the locals glanced at us, but then turned away if we looked back. We were all still wearing our badges out where people would see, because we were still wearing too many guns to hide. At least Edward and I were wearing our windbreakers with MARSHAL in big letters on them.
“I want to check on Bobby,” I said.
Edward led us down the steps and out toward our car. I wasn’t sure where Olaf had parked.
“Do you think Duke is in on it?” Olaf asked when we had some privacy.
“No, but it’s a small force,” I said. “I don’t like the idea of Rico being on jail duty.”
“They still need Bobby dead,” Edward said.
“Or they killed Ray Marchand for nothing,” I said.
Edward hit the button to unlock his rental SUV. Olaf started to go for his car, but I said, “Ride with us. We’ll come back for your car.”
“You’re afraid for him,” Olaf said.
“Yeah, my pulse is fast, and my heart rate’s up. Now, get in the car so we can put eyes on Bobby.”
I expected Olaf to argue, but he didn’t. He just got in the backseat. I road shotgun, and Edward peeled out of the parking spot so fast, he almost hit the car vulturing behind us. Maybe it was the big truck. Maybe it was the parking spot.
77
EDWARD PARKED THE SUV in front of the sheriff’s station without any conversation from us.
Olaf asked, “What’s she doing here?”
I couldn’t see whom he meant until I was halfway out the door of the SUV with my foot on the running board. Then I could see Jocelyn on the porch. She was still all in white, leaning against the railing of the little porch as if a photographer would be strolling by at any second. It wasn’t just beauty or the outfit with its strappy sandals, but a theatrical quality to her. No, that wasn’t quite it. She was dramatic, in that unnecessary-drama-in-your-life kind of way, not that I’m-going-to-be-an-actress kind of way. She gave off drama llama the way Olaf gave off violence. Neither of them had to do a thing except exist, and in their own ways, they would both fuck up your life.
She came toward us crying and talking a little too loud. “Marshals, I tried to talk to Bobby, tried to explain how I felt, but he’s so angry at me.”
“And you’re surprised by that?” I asked as we got closer.
“His eyes changed. He told me to get out because I was upsetting him.” She started to cry harder, covering her face with her hands.
A gunshot or maybe two rapid ones sounded. Hadn’t
I been through this before? We ran for the building with our guns out, pointed at the ground, but ready to shoot. Only training kept me from rushing through the office door without looking. But we were all trained. Olaf got to the door first, but he waited for us to catch up. He took high, I took low, and Edward followed us. As we moved through the door, we cut the pie, dividing the room up and staying out of one another’s way. The office looked empty, but the desks were big enough for cover.
We made sure that nothing was hiding behind the desks, and then we separated. Edward pointed for Olaf to check the small hallway that held the interrogation room and bathroom. Edward went for the closed door to the cells, and I stayed at his six. It doesn’t do any good to rush to the rescue if you get jumped before you get there. We got to the door leading into the short hallway and the cells beyond, and we were done with stealth or training.
The wereleopard was trying to pull Rico through the bars by his arm. I saw bone glistening white in among all the blood. Rico was firing the gun between the bars, but his angle was bad. I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t turn more toward the shot, but it didn’t matter, because the three of us had the shot. We had to move up to aim through the bars so we didn’t miss. The leopard gave a growling scream and tore the lower half of Rico’s arm free in a spurt of blood. I heard the sound of tearing meat and bone, like the sound a raw chicken wing makes when you tear it away from the body except louder, bigger, and meatier. Rico screamed and fired a shot that hit the bars and ricocheted back at us. Olaf disarmed him while Edward and I moved up and shot between the bars. The leopard threw itself at us in a snarling, claws-out leap. Our bullets hit it, but its body hit the bars hard enough to shake them. I shoved Edward out of the way as a clawed leg reached through the bars. I shot into the wereleopard’s body as the claws raked at me. Olaf shot it in the head, and blood and bone sprayed out the bottom of its jaw. That took some of the fight out of it, and it backed away from the bars. Edward fired from the knee he’d taken. The leopard coughed blood and then launched itself at the bars again. We fired in unison, and the big cat fell over on its side and stopped moving. All three of us popped our cartridges out and reloaded without trying to count shots. If it got up again, we’d need more ammo. If it didn’t, we could retrieve our dropped magazines and save any unused bullets.
We couldn’t hear one another over the ringing in our ears from firing in such a small space. Sometimes I think I should just live in my damn ear protection. I could see Rico’s mouth open and knew he was screaming. His arm was a blood fountain spraying into the cell. Movement caught my attention, and I almost pointed my gun at Jocelyn, who was screaming in the doorway. I yelled for her to call an ambulance. Hell, I probably screamed it at her, but she vanished from the doorway, hopefully to do what I’d asked.
Edward motioned for me to watch the wereleopard. He and Olaf had to put their guns away to try to get Rico free of the bars, but his shoulder was wedged so tight that he was stuck. We were going to have to open the cell to stop the bleeding, or he would be dead before the ambulance got here. The wereleopard was still in animal form, which meant it was not dead, not yet. I was deliberately thinking of the furry body in the cell as the wereleopard. I couldn’t afford to think of it as Bobby, because the leopard in the cell didn’t have hands, and I was pretty damn sure that it had taken hands to pull Rico through the bars and wedge him there. Bobby had been in human form and known exactly what he was doing when he did it. No lack of control, no accident, just murder. Jocelyn had said that his eyes had changed. Had that been enough for Rico to try to kill him? Had Bobby believed he was acting in self-defense? Did it matter in the eyes of the law? It sure as hell didn’t matter to Rico.
