Sucker Punch (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #27) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,137

any problem with him being a wereanimal. Well, I didn’t, but after what I saw . . . after what he did to our dad. Oh, God! It’s all my fault. I should have told Dad sooner or stayed home, but I never dreamed Bobby would hurt him. We both loved our father, or I thought we did.” She stared off into space as if seeing things we couldn’t: maybe the sight of her father’s bloody body or maybe things we couldn’t have guessed at.

“Did you tell anyone else that Bobby was trying to be . . . inappropriate with you?” I asked, struggling to find words that wouldn’t make it worse for her.

She nodded. “I told Helen that he was leaving his door to his room open so I’d see him undressing as I walked by, and that he’d peek at me if I left mine open. I couldn’t tell her the worst of it. It was so wrong and embarrassing.” She shuddered, hugging her arms to herself.

“Helen Grimes, the cook?” Newman asked.

“Yes, and I told my friend Marcy at a lunch a few days before the girls’ night out. Bobby had tried to . . . He forced his way into my room, and he . . . he tried to make his fantasy a reality. It’s what made me finally try to tell Dad. I didn’t even know if he’d believe me. You hear about women telling their families all the time that someone is molesting them, but nobody believes them, you know. Dad loves us both—loved us both—and it was like making him choose between us.”

“We believe you, Jocelyn,” Newman said.

She smiled up at him, but it left her eyes empty and sad. “Did you believe Bobby, too?”

“He believes what he says,” Olaf said.

His comment made her look past us to where Olaf stood trying to be nonthreatening by the door. “I know he does, which is what scared me, but I wasn’t scared because he was a wereleopard. I was just scared because my own brother was trying to force himself on me, wanted me to marry him. It’s crazy, and when Dad confronted him over it, Bobby killed him. So you see, I did it. I killed my father, just as much as Bobby. We killed him together!” Her voice rose in hysteria with the last two sentences until she started to sob—big, deep, hyperventilating sobs.

“That’s enough,” Nurse Trish said.

“I agree,” Dr. Jameson said.

Newman nodded. “We’re done for now.”

The nurse looked at him with eyes shining with tears and said, “How much more do you want from her?”

Newman shook his head. “Nothing. We’re leaving.”

Dr. Jameson was already putting a needle of something into Jocelyn’s IV line as she sobbed and screamed on the bed. I think in between wordless screams she was gasping out, “I did it. I killed him. I killed him.”

We walked out into the hallway with her screams echoing after us.

45

NEWMAN WALKED AWAY down the hospital corridor, striding fast as if he wanted to run but wouldn’t let himself do it. The three of us followed him, though I had to do some serious quick time to keep up. Newman was already in the open elevator when we got there. Edward put an arm in the door to keep it open long enough for us to join him. Two people were already in the elevator, so we still couldn’t talk.

Newman stood pressed in the corner, looking pale and tense. In the mirrored surface of the elevator, the rest of us just looked bored as we rode down. The people looked at us with our badges in plain sight but didn’t say anything.

The doors opened, and Newman pushed past all of us to head for the parking lot. We followed, and a glance back showed the couple watching us. It would be hospital gossip that the marshals looked upset, or maybe the story would grow and we’d be accused of brandishing weapons. We needed to be calm.

“Newman,” I called, “I’m almost twelve inches shorter than you are. If you want me to run to keep up, I can, but I’ll feel silly.”

He stumbled and turned around to look at me, and a car honked its horn before it almost hit him. The three of us jogged up to be with him then. Be a shame for him to get injured in the parking lot by being careless. Our job had so many other more interesting ways to get hurt; being hit by