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“And we’re some of the most senior marshals still on the job,” I added.
“You both seem awfully young to be the most senior,” Livingston said.
I looked up at Olaf, and he noticed, so he looked down at me. I’d never really thought about how old he might be. He seemed sort of ageless, not literally like a vampire, but as if he would always be like he was when I’d first met him. It had never occurred to me to wonder if he was closer to Edward’s age or mine. He had to be somewhere in that nearly ten-year age difference, didn’t he?
“What?” he asked me.
I shook my head, and said to Livingston, “There were never many of us, but once they added a physical requirement along with the shooting requirement, that took out most of the real old-timers. They could shoot, but they couldn’t pass the obstacle course and calisthenics part.”
“Some of them are teaching classes to the newer marshals,”
Newman added.
“I was glad when they invited them to teach you new guys. That much field experience shouldn’t go to waste.”
“A lot of them are stake-and-hammer guys though,” Newman said. “Old-fashioned doesn’t begin to cover their methods.”
“The hunter that taught me the ropes was like that.”
“I thought Forrester was your mentor. He’s known for his gun knowledge,” Livingston said.
“You get that off his Wikipedia page?” I asked.
“No, he worked a case that a buddy of mine was on. My friend is a gun nut, and he loved Forrester’s arsenal. He said that Forrester even used a flamethrower.”
“Yep, that’s Ted,” I said, shaking my head.
“So, he wasn’t your first mentor?”
“No, Manny Rodriguez was. He taught me how to raise zombies and how to kill vampires.”
“What happened to him?” Newman asked.
“His wife thought he was getting too old and forced him to retire from the hunting side of things.”
“It is not a job for old men,” Olaf said.
“I guess it isn’t, but I wasn’t ready to fly solo when Manny retired. I was lucky I didn’t get killed doing jobs on my own at first.”
“When did Forrester start training you?” Livingston asked.
“Soon enough to help me stay alive.”
“Ted spoke highly of you from the beginning,” Olaf said. “He does not give unearned praise. Are you being humble?”
“No, I don’t . . . I really did have some close calls when Manny first retired, or maybe I just missed having backup.”
Hazel brought our coffee and my Coke. “I’ll be back to fill those waters up, and with the juice,” she said before she left again.
I so wanted to start questioning her, but this was Newman’s warrant and everyone else besides Olaf was local. They knew Hazel. I didn’t. I’d let them play it for now.
The coffee was fresh and hot and surprisingly good for a mass-produced cup. I did add sugar and cream, so it wasn’t great coffee, but I didn’t add much, so it wasn’t bad either. Olaf put in way more sugar than I did, so his cup would have been too sweet for me. He didn’t take cream. I guessed we could be snobby about each other’s coffee habits later.
“But it was Forrester who taught you how to fight empty hand?” Livingston asked.
“I had some martial arts when we met, but he started me on more real-world training that worked outside of a judo mat or a martial arts tournament.”
“I thought he was out of New Mexico,” Livingston said.
