Shaw was a big guy, with a hand that swallowed mine when we shook. His eyes were lost to me behind mirrored sunglasses, but then my eyes were lost to him, too. Sunglasses may look cool, but they hide one of the best ways to decipher another person. People can lie with a lot of themselves, but eyes can give a lot away- sometimes not by what they show you but when they go their most hidden. You can judge a lot by what a person wants to hide. Of course, we were all standing in the middle of a desert, so maybe the glasses weren’t for hiding anything, just for comfort.
“Fry and Reddick will get your bags,” Shaw said. “You can drive ahead with me.”
“Sorry, Sheriff, but once a warrant of execution is in effect and the hunt begins, I’m legally bound to keep my kit in sight, or secured by me, or with me watching, in an area out of sight of the general public.”
“When did that change?” he asked.
It was Grimes who answered, “About a month ago.”
I nodded at the lieutenant. “I’m impressed you know that.”
He actually smiled. “We’ve been going in with our local executioner for a year. It’s our job to know if the law has changed.”
I nodded again. I didn’t say out loud that a lot of police still treated the preternatural branch of the marshal service as a lesser unit, or maybe an embarrassment. I couldn’t really blame the attitude; some of us were little better than assassins with badges, but the rest of us did our best.
“What caused the change?” Shaw asked.
I liked that he asked. Most wouldn’t. I answered this time. “A vampire hunter in Colorado left his bag of tricks on the backseat of his car, where some teenage joyriders stole it. They probably had no idea what was in it, but they did sell the guns, and one of them was used in a holdup where there was a death.”
Shaw looked at the heavy equipment bags. “You can’t carry all that on a hunt. Some of those bags must weigh more than you do.”
“I’ll store them, then take what I need for the hunt. I’ll get it down to a backpack and some weapons.”
Grimes said, “We can store them at our place. We’ll be with you when you serve the warrant, so you can come back and load up with us.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
Grimes gave me that smile again; I still wasn’t sure if it was a real smile or his version of cop face. Some give a blank face, some give smiles, but all police have a face you cannot read. I might not even learn which it was on this visit, because the lieutenant would not be going in to help serve the warrant. He’d be back at the command center, commanding.
“Sonny will drive us back, then you can stow your gear.” I wasn’t sure who Sonny was, but I’d figure it out when someone got behind the wheel.
“I’ll need to be taking Marshal Blake for debriefing,” Shaw said.
“You want to ride with us, Sheriff?” Grimes asked.
Shaw seemed to think about it for a second or two. He took his hat off and wiped some of the sweat, showing that his haircut was shorter than the SWAT. He had what the marines call a high and tight, nearly shaved on the sides, and not much longer on top, as if he’d never left the service, or at least not its barbers.
“I’ll follow you; let’s just get out of the heat.”
They all nodded, and I just waited for someone to move toward the car we’d be taking. I’d expected more speed when I hit the ground. Everyone was being way too calm, but then, so was I. Whatever we were feeling inside, outside it was all business. There’d be time for emotion later, maybe. Sometimes you keep putting off an emotional reaction until it just becomes moot. It becomes just one more thing that you couldn’t afford to let yourself feel.
I picked up one of the big equipment bags and started to reach for another, but Rocco got there first. I let him get it. Hooper reached for the last bag, and I was okay with that, too. It was when Grimes started to reach for the bag I was carrying that we had problems.
“I’ve got it, Lieutenant, thanks.”
We had a moment where he hesitated, and we looked at each other. I finally said, “You can get the luggage if you want.”
He gave a little nod and went for the luggage. I learned that Hooper was Sonny, because he was the one who opened the back of an SUV. The back was full of his own equipment. His assault vest was visible, as well as two different helmets. There was a lot of stuff, but no guns were visible.
He answered as if I’d asked, “Gun safe.” He moved the pile enough for me to see it.
“Aftermarket add-on?” I asked.
He nodded.
“I’ll have to look into that. It would satisfy the new law, as written, and be a heck of a lot more convienient.”
“We have to be ready to roll at any time.”
“Me, too.”
There was enough of his equipment already in there that adding my bags stuffed it full. Grimes joined us with my single suitcase in tow. “The pilot said this is all the luggage.”
“It is,” I said.
“Three bags, longer than you are tall, full of weapons, but only one suitcase for clothes,” Rocco said.
“Yep,” I said.
They all sort of nodded as they worked to find room for the suitcase in the back. I’d learned a long time ago that if you packed like a girl, you lost brownie points with the police. The idea was to try to be one of the guys; that meant you did not bring your entire wardrobe on a job. Besides, it was the continental United States; there’d be a mall somewhere if I ran out of clean clothes.
Hooper aka Sonny got in the driver’s seat. Grimes rode shotgun. Highest rank usually rode in front, or in back. Depended on the officer. Sergeant Rocco got in beside me. The mound of weapons and bags seemed to sort of press in from behind, as if the potential for destruction could leak out of the bags, or maybe it was nerves? I knew I had grenades in the bags. Yes, Mr. Grenade is your friend until you press, pull, or otherwise activate it, but still, boomy and fiery things were fairly new for me to carry. Part of me didn’t exactly trust it; no logic, just nervous. I didn’t like explosives.
We pulled out, and Shaw was still standing there in his ring of uniformed officers. He’d been the one to suggest we get out of the heat, but he was still standing in it, watching me from behind his mirrored shades. I realized I’d never seen his eyes, not once. I guess, to be fair, he’d never seen mine.
“He does know we can still see him, right?” I said as we drove past.
“Yes,” Grimes said, “why?”
“Because suddenly he looks unhappy.”
“We lost men,” Grimes said.
I looked at him and found that the pleasant face had slipped a little. Some of the pain that had to be in there showed around the edges. Pain, and that thin edge of anger that we all carry around with us.
“Nothing I can do will bring them back, but I will do everything I can to kill the vampire that did it.”
“We’re about saving lives, Marshal, not taking them,” Grimes said.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and tried to say something that wouldn’t upset him more. “I don’t save lives, Lieutenant, I take them.”
Rocco said, “Don’t you believe that killing the vampires saves their future victims?”
I thought about it, then shook my head. “I used to, and it may even be true, but it just feels like I kill people.”
“People,” he said, “not monsters.”
“Once I believed they were monsters.”
“And now?” Rocco asked.
I shrugged and looked away. I was seeing a lot of empty land and the beginnings of strip malls. It might have been Vegas, but the landscape was more Anywhere, USA.
“Don’t tell me the infamous Anita Blake is going soft?” This from Hooper.
Grimes said, “Hooper,” in a voice that clearly meant he was in trouble with the boss.
