Sucker Punch (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #27) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,185

won’t sign the warrant over to any of us, Anita,” Edward said.

“That isn’t what I meant to happen.”

Edward sighed. “You’re used to working with me, or Olaf, or Bernardo. You can’t talk that plainly in front of the other marshals, especially not the new ones that come through traditional police channels.”

“What did Anita say to him?” Olaf asked.

We told Olaf, and he smiled a smile so big, it filled his black eyes with good humor. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him look so genuinely happy. “Do you truly mean to kill the girl?”

“If she is only hiding the affair with her brother out of shame, then no, but if she is behind the frame job on Bobby, then if he dies, she dies.”

“Only if Newman gives the warrant up,” Edward said.

“Damn it, Ted, this is so wrong, all of it. Jocelyn or someone is using us like a murder weapon.”

“We’ll figure it out, Anita. We always do.”

“Usually we figure out how to find and kill the monster, but the monster is locked in a cell awaiting execution like a model citizen.”

“We are hunting the beauty this time, not the beast,” Olaf said.

“Poetic,” I said.

“Thank you.”

“Fine. Let’s go find a bevy of beauties at the strip club and see if Jocelyn’s alibi holds up,” Edward said.

“Save the beast. Kill the beauty,” Olaf said, and smiled again. “I like it.”

“It was poetic the first time. Now it’s just creepy,” I said.

His smile didn’t dim, but his eyes slid back to a more predatory happiness, less kid on Christmas morning and more serial killer. “You are not the first woman who has said that to me.”

“I’ll just bet I’m not, big boy. I’ll just bet I’m not.”

“Do not call me big boy.”

“Sorry. Totally understand. I don’t let people call me little girl either.”

“Now that you two have worked out the name-calling, let’s go find Newman before he drives off without us, because the little woman here spooked his ass.”

There wasn’t a trace of Ted’s happy accent as he said that last part. I realized he was angry with me, and he was right. If I’d kept my mouth shut, Newman would probably have signed the warrant over to me. Then I could have run the investigation the way I wanted to run it. Now our hands were still tied by Newman’s scruples. He was a good cop, but maybe that wasn’t what this case needed. Maybe it needed a bad cop, or maybe even a little bit worse.

59

I MANAGED TO convince Newman that I was just angry about all of it, and that I wouldn’t really use the warrant to kill straight humans unless they were trying to kill me first. It was the truth, but if I had to be the one who put a bullet between Bobby Marchand’s eyes when I was about ninety-eight percent certain he was innocent—that might change. I wasn’t sure I could kill Jocelyn in cold blood, and I sure as hell couldn’t give her over to Olaf, so what the hell was I going to do with her if she was guilty of murder? Damn it, I hated this case. What I hated almost as much was the fact that Leduc had put his foot down and wouldn’t allow any Coalition members to go out and question anyone else.

“Our deal is that I let your people babysit Bobby in my station, on the condition that you don’t involve them in any other police business.”

“Nicky went with Otto and me to question a witness. Nothing bad happened.”

Leduc had shaken his head. “You gave your word, Blake, so the deal’s done.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, but he was right.

“Besides, Blake, ya got three Horsemen of the Apocalypse plus Win here. Don’t you think that’s enough firepower?” Again, Leduc was right.

The four of us divided and conquered but ended up meeting at the edge of a parking lot to discuss Jocelyn’s girlfriends and the supposedly perfect alibi. Why a parking lot? Because though we weren’t allowed to let any of my St. Louis people be actively involved in the case anymore, Leduc felt perfectly okay interfering with any discussion of the case we had at the office. The four of us wanted some privacy from Duke and his deputies.

We found a tree to the side of the parking lot away from the whir of passing cars; just the open space gave us privacy to talk. Newman and Edward shared their intel, what