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“Come in,” Livingston said, voice a little gruff. I didn’t think I was the only one who was happy to have an interruption.
“You texted, sir,” a woman in a state trooper uniform said as she came through the door.
“Yes, I want you to relieve Deputy Frankie Anthony and send her up here.”
“Will do, sir,” she said, and closed the door behind her much more softly than she’d knocked.
“So you don’t believe me,” Leduc said.
“I never said that,” Livingston said.
“You’re about to double-check my story with my own deputy. Fuck that, Dave. You and I have known each other too many years for you to doubt my word.”
“It’s not your word I’m doubting,” Livingston said.
“Then what is it?”
“Some cases are harder on us than others, Duke,” he said. It took me a second to realize the gruff voice was Livingston’s version of kind.
“You think I can’t handle this one? You think I’ve gone soft?”
“No, Duke, I’d never think that.”
“Then, what the hell, Dave? Frankie is going to back me up, and then what? Is your heart bleeding for the poor wereleopard, too?”
“You know me better than that, Duke.”
“I thought I did.”
I realized that Livingston had caught on that maybe, just maybe, Duke was too emotionally involved to oversee this murder investigation. If I hadn’t thought someone would see it, I’d have crossed my fingers that we could get Livingston on our side and that Deputy Frankie wouldn’t throw us under the bus to keep in good with her boss.
14
DEPUTY FRANKIE ACTUALLY sat in one of the pretty stiff-backed chairs. It was as if we’d been waiting for someone to be the first, because Duke sat down on the edge of the couch closest to her. Kaitlin sat down in the matching chair beside her.
“The suspect did start to shift in the cell with both Marshal Newman and Marshal Blake still locked inside with him,” Frankie said.
“His eyes changed, but that was all,” I said.
Livingston held up a hand and said, “Let the deputy finish answering the question before you add your two cents’ worth, Marshal.”
“No, the marshal is right about that. It was only his eyes that turned yellow like a cat’s, but we’re all trained that it’s the first sign of them changing form, so Sheriff Leduc and I told the marshals to get out of the cell. Newman did, but Blake wouldn’t leave the suspect.”
“Which is exactly what I said,” Leduc added.
Livingston said, “If Blake can’t interrupt, then neither can you, Duke. Let your deputy finish before you all jump in.”
Frankie looked at her boss with nervous eyes, her hands clutching each other a little tighter. You didn’t have to know her to figure out those were nervous fidgets. “Marshal Blake was in front of the suspect, so there wasn’t a clear shot without endangering her.”
“And you had your weapon drawn by then?” Livingston asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Captain. Yes, we all had our guns drawn, even Newman. We were all urging Blake to get out of the cell, but she wouldn’t do it. She told us to lock the cell door, that she thought she could talk the suspect out of changing into his animal form.”
Livingston looked at me. “Blake, why did you refuse to leave the cell when your fellow marshal did?”
“I thought they would shoot and kill Bobby Marchand, and I no longer thought he was guilty of the murder. I didn’t want to let them kill an innocent man.”
“You put yourself in harm’s way to save a suspect that a warrant of execution has been issued for?” Livingston asked.
