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“Fuck you, and it’s Marshal Blake to you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
He stood very still, hands up. He was doing his best to not piss us off further. That was great, because we needed to look in the cell and know if we were calling an ambulance or the coroner. How had I not looked in the cell before? The armed person always takes my attention first. Enough people shoot at you and it’s like you acquire this tunnel vision that cuts out all the unnecessary shit. The exception to that rule is if someone you love is involved. Then you’re fucked because you notice too much. You’re never at your best if you love someone in the room, unless they’re as well armed as you are. Then it’s like gangster date night.
“Ease down, Blake,” Newman said. “It’s over.”
I thought he meant our prisoner was dead, which made me gamble a quick glance into the cell. Bobby wasn’t there. What the fuck? I looked back at the sheriff to make sure he was still holding his hands up like a good boy, and risked a second, longer look into the cell. My eyes had registered the broken chains because when I saw them now, I wasn’t surprised. A corner of blanket underneath the bunk let me know that Bobby had taken the only cover the cell offered. He was hiding under the bed like a little kid who’s afraid of the closet monster, but this monster had a badge and a gun, and there was nowhere to hide. I had to look back at Leduc, but there’d been no visible fresh blood in the cell. That didn’t mean much, but it was the only hope I had for Bobby’s survival, so I took it. He could be dead later, but until I saw him that way, I’d keep believing that he was alive and that we could save him.
“I am not a danger to you, Marshal Blake, I swear,” Sheriff Leduc said.
“I know, because I’m pointing a gun at you.”
He sighed hard enough for the bulk around his middle to go up and down. “May I put my hands down?”
“No. If you want a different position, lace them over your head.”
Deputy Wagner was babbling as Newman got him on his feet. “I couldn’t do it. We were teammates. Got all the way to states our junior year. I know he’s a monster, but he’s still Bobby, too.”
And there in the babbling of a soon-to-be ex-deputy was the real problem with shapeshifters: They turned into big, dangerous beasts at least once a month, but the rest of the time, they were still themselves. It made it so much harder to put them down in human form, but only a fool with a death wish waited for them to turn furry before trying to kill them.
Leduc had put his hands on his head, but it looked like it was an effort for him to keep them there, or at least his uniform strained when he lifted his arms that much. He needed new uniforms or to start exercising so he actually fit into the ones he had. Either way, the tight sleeves would cost him a second or two if he had to draw his gun, which was still sitting on his duty belt.
Newman was calling out, “Bobby, Bobby, are you hurt?”
I risked another glance and saw an arm wave from under the bunk. I hoped that was an I’m-okay wave, but we’d need to see more of him before we’d be certain. He started crawling out from under the bunk, and what showed around the blanket still looked okay. I went from being happy that the deputy had missed to wondering how he could have missed from that close.
“Bobby, are you all right?” Newman asked again.
“What?” Bobby asked, frowning.
I said to Newman, “The shot in this small a space probably rocked his hearing.”
Newman yelled his question louder, and I heard Bobby Marchand say, “I . . . think so. I’m okay.”
“May I put my arms down now, Marshal Blake?” Leduc asked.
“No,” I said.
“I think the danger is over, Blake,” Newman said.
I glanced back and found Newman standing with the handcuffed Deputy Wagner in front of him. I double-checked the safety on Wagner’s gun and tucked it into my belt. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold. I moved forward with my own gun still aimed at the sheriff.
“Did you know that your deputy was in here trying to kill Bobby Marchand?” I asked. It was a stupid question to ask him, because all he had to do was say no, and I had no way to prove otherwise.
“No. I was very clear with all my deputies that unless he started to change into animal form, they were to leave him for Newman.”
“Blake, it’s okay,” Newman said.
“You can put your arms down now,” I said, and holstered my weapon.
Leduc did it slowly, as if he didn’t want to spook me even without a gun pointing at him. It meant he believed I might actually shoot him. It’s always nice when other cops take you seriously.
“What the fuck, Troy?” Newman said. He sort of shook Wagner. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Duke said, ?
?You didn’t find Raymond Marchand. Troy did. You didn’t find the boy in bed sleeping nude and covered in his uncle’s blood. We did.”
