Sucker Punch

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  “Chancy to hide it outside the house,” I said. “What if some neighborhood kid found it by accident?”

  “We almost didn’t find it tucked up on a shelf hidden in what looked like trash. The real danger would have been the landscape crew throwing away the trash in the shed.”

  “Can you turn it over so I can see the claw part?”

  Livingston turned the weapon carefully in his hands so I could see the metal claws that were supposed to sit tucked in against the upper part of the palm. “Forrester and Jeffries both thought this would match the wounds on the victim.”

  “Where are they, by the way?”

  “Outside. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Jeffries is upset that no one is getting executed today.”

  He made his comment a joke, and I laughed with him, because wasn’t it funny that Olaf might want to kill someone? Yeah, it was freaking hilarious.

  69

  I SPOTTED OLAF standing on the far edge of the yard near the street with its line of bright blue state trooper cars. The crowd of police shifted, and I could see Edward with him. I could tell that Olaf was upset, but if I hadn’t known him so well, I might have thought he looked calm, just like Livingston had. It was Edward who seemed calm to me, but he was clearly trying to talk to Olaf in a serious way. They were framed by the crowd of civilians that had started gathering outside the perimeter of police. Once I would have thought it was the neighbors, but there were far too many people for this one small street. There were always more people at crime scenes than you could explain. I never understood where they all came from, and people had been gathering at crime scenes long before the Internet made it easy to spread the word about every damn thing.

  Muriel was screaming inside one of the police cars, pushing herself against the window. Her husband sat quietly in the car behind her. Newman was talking to Duke to one side of the cars. They seemed intense but calm. The bad guys were all tucked away, so I walked toward Edward and Olaf to see if I could help Edward talk the big guy down or out of whatever he was upset about.

  I was partway to them when there was a commotion in the civilian crowd. A tall woman was trying to push past the police line. She was dressed in white, which made her stand out in the crowd even more than her height. I mean, she wasn’t Olaf tall, but she was over six feet. She had large round white-framed sunglasses that hid her face, so at first, I didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t until the crowd parted for her and she bent low over the policeman who seemed to be listening to her that I realized it was Jocelyn Marchand. Honestly, if I hadn’t had her mother’s face in my head from years ago, I might not have recognized her, but with the glasses covering the brown of her eyes, she looked like her mother’s ghost since she was dressed all in white.

  Sheriff Leduc must have recognized her, too, because he was walking that way. He made a small gesture at the officer who was holding her back, so he stepped aside. She strode forward on strappy stiletto heels that put a sway into her narrow hips that made her short skirt flare out and swirl around her with every long-legged step. Seeing her in a hospital bed hadn’t prepared me for how long and shapely her legs were. I wasn’t normally a leg person, but they seemed to lead straight up to that swirl of oh-so-short skirt like it was an exclamation point aimed at the swell of her hips and everything else that lay just under the narrow, dancing hem of her skirt. As she sashayed across the street, I realized it was more than just clothes, makeup, and hair. She knew how to move for maximum effect. I wasn’t the only one who watched her with my head on a swivel as she met the sheriff in the middle of the pavement.

  In her heels she was actually tall enough that she had to lean over for him to speak low to her. I couldn’t see her eyes, but at a certain point, her shoulders stiffened, and I would have bet money that her eyes had widened behind the big sunglasses. She looked toward the police cars with her aunt and uncle in them, and then she opened that perfectly lipsticked mouth and yelled, “Aunt Muriel, how could you do that?” She took a suddenly shaking step toward the cars. “Uncle Todd, how could you kill Dad? How could you frame Bobby? You made me think he killed our dad!”

  She slapped the window of the car that held Todd, and he winced visibly as if the blow had touched him. If we could get him away from his wife, he’d talk. He felt guilty, and that made you do stupid things like talking without your lawyer.

  Jocelyn moved to the car with Muriel in it. Muriel didn’t flinch when her window got slapped. Her head was turned away from me, so she was looking at her niece. I wished I could have seen Muriel’s face, because whatever her expression was, it made Jocelyn press her hands flat against the window and bring her face close as if she wanted to push through the glass and get to the other woman.

  “I knew you were coldhearted, Muriel, but how could you kill your own brother? How could you take our dad away from us? Framing Bobby for it, you evil bitch!”

  We were all watching the show, but as if the insult was a signal, Leduc moved close to Jocelyn and started trying to soothe her or at least get her away from the cars. He took her elbow and got her onto the sidewalk so the cars could drive off. The Babingtons were going to someplace bigger and far less hometown friendly than the local jail.

  The sheriff kept a hand on Jocelyn’s elbow as if he didn’t trust her not to run after the cars or throw something. I couldn’t really blame her. I walked over to them. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk to her or what, but I didn’t understand why she’d lied to people about her sexual relationship with Bobby. It had made me like her for the murder, but maybe that was my issue with her trying to gaslight Bobby. I really wanted to understand why she’d done it, but it really wasn’t any of my business anymore. We had our bad guys on their way to jail. The beautiful liar standing in front of me hadn’t done anything to bring me down on her legally.

  She was talking to Leduc. “I can’t believe I let them convince me that Bobby had done that to . . . Dad.”

  “They fooled all of us, Joshie.”

  “Jocelyn,” she corrected him automatically with no change in expression.

  “Jocelyn. I keep forgetting that you’re not the little girl I met all those years ago.”

  I’d heard people say that all my life, but I’d seen the family photos, and I didn’t understand how someone could genuinely not see the difference between the little girl and this tall, statuesque beauty in front of us. Forgetting how old someone was, fine, but literally not seeing the difference when it was this stark, I didn’t understand.

  “I’m so glad that the marshal didn’t execute Bobby. That would have made all of this even worse.” Jocelyn buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as if she was crying. With the glasses on, it was hard to tell how many tears were actually flowing. I realized I still didn’t like her. She was gorgeous, but pretty is as pretty does, and she’d told people that Bobby was stalking her, abusing her, rather than admit that she was having a sexual relationship with him. I understood the incest taboo, but her lies had made the case against Bobby stronger. I wasn’t going to be able to forgive that. If someone is good enough to fuck, then they’re good enough to admit you’re fucking them. If not, then you probably shouldn’t be fucking them in the first place.

  Newman came up to them. “I’m glad, too, Jocelyn. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d executed Bobby and then we found out that he was innocent.”

  Jocelyn flung her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him like she was trying to melt through to his spine. He looked startled, but it’s always hard when someone hugs you not to hug them back, so he put his arms around her, patting her awkwardly. Then her legs collapsed. She had passed out cold, and if I hadn’t come in to help Newman, they’d have both gone down. He was strong enough to hold her up, but it’s surprisingly hard to catch someone unless you’re ready for it.

  We laid her down in the back of one of the police cars while we waited for the a
mbulance to come and take her back to the hospital. Livingston had his female officers sit with Jocelyn until the paramedics arrived.

  Leduc called over to us, “Marshals, can you join us over here for a minute?”

  He was standing with Livingston near the front steps of the house. Newman and Deputy Rico were already with them. No one looked very happy. Since we’d just solved the worst homicide this county had had in decades, something else had happened. As we walked toward the knot of men, I fought the urge to ask, Now what? Olaf fell into step with us before we reached them. He didn’t mention anything personal, and neither did we. We were going to be professional until all the police work was done. Good to know.

  70

  “CARMICHAEL TRIED TO kill himself,” Leduc said.

  “The live-in caretaker for the Marchands, that Carmichael?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  Livingston said, “He was found at a local motel just a few minutes ago. Looks like that’s where he’s been hiding since the murder.”

  “Is he going to make it?” Rico asked.

  “The doctors don’t know yet.”

  Duke asked, “Did he leave a note about why?”

  “He did, typed on the computer in the room. It’s a confession.”

  “Confession to what?” I asked.

  “You didn’t mention the note before,” Newman said.

  “I was getting to it, but Duke wanted the marshals here for it.”

  “Newman signed the warrant over to Blake, so it’s her case now, and she doesn’t go much of anywhere without the other two,” Leduc said.

  “I thought the execution warrant would be moot by now, but okay,” Livingston said. “The note was on his computer. I’ll hit the highlights. He stole the bagh nakha for the Babingtons. They promised him part of the money from selling the jewels off it. He didn’t know they meant to hurt anyone with it, and he’s sorry about what happened to Ray Marchand.”

  “If he’d come forward with the information, it could have saved Bobby’s life,” Newman said.

  “Maybe he thought it would implicate him in the murder,” Rico said.

  “I can see him stealing something small and not knowing how much it’s worth, but I thought better of Carmichael than to let Bobby be executed if he had knowledge that could save him.” Duke shook his head and looked suddenly older and exhausted again, as if he’d learned one thing too many about human behavior.

  “Maybe Muriel threatened to lie and say that it was all Carmichael’s idea,” Rico said.

  “You think he’d really let Bobby die rather than risk coming forward?” Duke said.

  “I don’t want to believe it, Duke, but it looks like that’s what he did,” Newman said.

  Duke took his hat off and wiped a hand over his face like he was trying to use the air to wash it. “It was easier to believe that Bobby lost control of the beast inside him and accidentally killed Ray than to believe this kind of cold-blooded shit.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier if they’re real monsters instead of your family and friends,” I said.

  Duke looked at me and almost smiled, but then his expression turned sad to match the look in his eyes. “Amen to that. I think we’ve got enough reasonable doubt to get that warrant of yours vacated or changed.”

  “I’ve never actually had a warrant where it turned out to be humans only, so I’m not sure how this works. I think I need a judge to vacate it officially before I can walk away.”

  “I’ll call him now,” Duke said. He moved away, pushing numbers on his phone. It was nice to have someone on our side who was so intimate with the local judges.

  “Is this the end of the case?” Olaf asked.

  “If the warrant is vacated by the judge, then yes,” I said.

  He took a big breath in and let it out slowly. “If we are not going to hunt together, then I am not sure why I am here.”

  “If the warrant is vacated, then we can all go home,” Edward said. He smiled as he spoke.

  When we’d first met, he lived for the hunt and the kill. Now he still enjoyed it, but he lived for his family, too. He, like me, had people he missed when he was away from home now. We had lives that we actually enjoyed. Watching Olaf’s reaction reminded me that he had no one. If you kill everyone you’ve been intimate with, there isn’t a lot to build on relationship-wise, I guess.

  Duke came back to us with the phone still at his ear. He spoke his side of the conversation out loud for us. “Dill, are you seriously telling me that even though I’m assuring you that we have a murder weapon and suspects with a motive for the murder and for framing Bobby Marchand, that the warrant of execution is still live?”

  He listened to the other side of the conversation for a few minutes and then said, “You have to be joking, Dill. You can’t add more to the time limit for the warrant? Dill, I don’t care what the legalese says. You can’t be all right with having one of the marshals execute an innocent man just because there’s not enough time to get a confession!”

  He hung up the phone and then made a gesture like he was thinking about throwing it across the yard. “This is the most god-awful, messed-up fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Are you seriously telling us that Bobby is still going to be executed when the time runs out?” Newman asked.

  “Dill, Judge Metcalf, has got every law clerk and lawyer he can find researching a way out of the warrant, but it turns out there’s no legal precedent for it, and Dill has never liked to rock the boat.”

  Livingston said, “This isn’t rocking the boat. This is legal murder.”

  “How do you think I feel?” I asked. “The warrant is in my name now, so if any executing has to happen, I’m the one who’s supposed to do it.”

  Newman stared at me, looking shocked. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Legally, I’ll have no choice.”

  “You can’t mean that you would really kill Bobby when you know he’s innocent of any wrongdoing,” he said.

  “She’ll sign the warrant over to Otto or me if it comes to that,” Edward said.

  Newman looked at him. “Could you do it?”

  “I could,” Olaf said.

  Newman just stared up at him. “I hope you don’t mean that.”

  Leduc said, “Dill said if our suspects confess to the crime, then he’ll work with us on a stay of execution until they can figure out a legal way to make the warrant of execution null.”

  “The warrants are worded loosely,” Edward said, “so we can use them to wipe out all the vampires in a lair and their human servants, or an entire pack of werewolves, not just the individual that did the killing.”

  “Which helps us how?” I asked.

  “If we treat the Babingtons like human servants, then the warrant covers them,” Edward said.

  Everyone in the huddle of police officers except for Olaf and me stared at him as if he’d sprouted a second head with fangs and one eye in the middle of its forehead.

  “You can’t execute humans as if they were supernatural,” Livingston said.

  “But Muriel and Todd don’t know that,” I said.

  Livingston frowned at me, but Duke smiled. “You going to try to scare Muriel into talking without a lawyer?”

  “No, I’m going to try to guilt Todd Babington into talking without a lawyer, and if guilt doesn’t do it, then I’ll try to scare him.”

  “We have the murder weapon hidden in their house. We have Carmichael’s suicide note implicating them. It’s enough to charge them,” Duke said.

  “Can they be charged like it’s a regular murder and still be covered under the warrant of execution?” Newman asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, and looked at everyone in our little group.

  “Don’t look at me,” Rico said.

  But it wasn’t just Deputy Rico. None of u
s knew.

  “Let’s not charge them with murder, then, not until we’ve used the warrant to get a confession,” Edward said.

  “How can you be sure that we’ll get a confession out of either of them?” Livingston asked.

  “If you stay out of our way and let us do our jobs, we’ll get a confession,” Edward said.

  “What do you mean, stay out of your way?” Duke asked.

  “He means that under the warrant system we have total discretion on the level of . . . vigor with which we act,” I said.

  “What does that mean, vigor and act?” Duke asked.

  “Violence,” Olaf said.

  “Yes, that is what I mean,” Edward said.

  “We can’t let you hurt Muriel and Todd,” Duke protested.

  “Do you want us to have to kill Bobby?” I asked.

  “You know I don’t.”

  “Then let us do one of the things we do best,” I said.

  “Which is what?” Rico asked.

  “Be scary.”

  “I won’t let you abuse prisoners on my watch,” Duke said.

  “Not even to save Bobby’s life?” I asked.

  Duke shook his head. “If I let you abuse Muriel and Todd, then I’m no better than they are.”

  “You still don’t understand what we are,” Edward said.

  “You’re United States Marshals,” Livingston said.

  “We are, but we’re with the preternatural branch.”

  “It means you hunt monsters,” Rico said.

  “It means we kill monsters,” Edward corrected.

  “We’re executioners,” I said.