Homicide My Own - Anne Argula [60]
“Don’t you ever hit her!” Odd hissed at his face.
I saw the deputy’s arm flailing for his weapon, so I got to it first, unholstering the nine, popping the clip, clearing the chamber, all while Odd was choking the man. I threw the clip in one direction and tossed the nine under the camper. This was kind of serious too, disarming a peace officer. I would build my defense later, if I had to, but at the moment, I was more worried about Nascine shooting somebody, me maybe.
“You don’t care about anything, do you?” Odd said to him, nose to nose.
If he expected an answer, he was going to have to let up on the guy’s windpipe, because he was letting the deputy have just about enough air to stay conscious, and not for very long, either.
I put a hand on Odd’s shoulder and said softly that we should go now, and with all deliberate speed. He released the deputy, who fell to his hands and knees, gasping. Those nicotine coated lungs were very slow to fill. Camilia waved us back with the palm of her hand and indicated she could deal with all of this. So we motored.
“Where would you like to go, Odd?”
He didn’t hear me. He was off somewhere, not in himself. We drove past the boatyard, past the Northern Comfort, on which James had earned his Ford pick-up. I asked him again.
“Back to Jimmy Coyote’s house,” he said.
“Okay…” I waited for him to tell me why, or to tell me something, because I knew he had something to tell, but he sat silently. “Any particular reason?” Nothing. I waited a minute, then said, “Something happened back there, didn’t it? I mean, besides you strong-arming the deputy.”
He nodded.
He wasn’t going to tell me. A cop is used to people not telling him everything. A cop has to fill in the spaces. I was doing that, beginning with the autopsy report. Inside of her was semen.
I took a detour to the Honeymoon Cottage. I wanted to check on that crowd to see what had gone wrong in our absence, because surely everything had, but more than that I had to pee and I did not want to show up at the Coyotes’ house asking to use the can.
Our three were sitting on the porch, just enjoying the nice day, Gwen sitting between the other two and keeping them at a safe distance, as she was sworn to do. I had a sudden, and in some ways an alarming sense of well-being. I parked the car and we walked to the porch. I was trying to read their faces and I was drawing a blank, which could be a good thing.
“Welcome back, you two,” said Gwen. “We were wondering if we’d been abandoned.”
“Everything okay here?” I asked, on my way up the steps.
“Everything is hunky-dory.”
I was passing them on my way into the cottage and to the bathroom, with what was by now was an urgent need, when Gwen added, “Your lieutenant called from Spokane.”
Oh, shit. Not a good thing, not nearly. I stopped, came back out onto the porch.
“Who gave you the message?” I asked, cautiously, hopefully.
“Oh, I took the call.”
All hope gone, caution useless. “You took the call?”
“Angie yelled there was a phone call, so I went and took it.”
“Don’t worry about us,” said Stacey. “We didn’t do anything while she was gone. Hardly anything.”
“You took the call?” I said again, and tried to get Odd’s eyes, but who knew where he was? “You spoke to the lieutenant?”
“Don’t worry, I played it cool,” she said.
“Tell me what he said, and tell me what you said.” My voice had the calm of death.
“He said where’s his officers, and I said which one, and he said either one, and I said they were off, and he said where,