Born Wild

vast difference between a soldier and a killer.

“I t-tried to keep her safe,” Dale blubbered, shaking his balding blond head. “She’s so innocent. So gentle and good. But she didn’t understand. She took out that restraining order against me, and…Eve? What are you doing here?”

Oh, no. No, Lord, please don’t let her be there when I turn around.

Mac peeked over his shoulder, and…sure as shit…there she was, pointing a snub-nosed revolver straight at Pennyworth and looking like one of Charlie’s Angels as she advanced into the room.

“Goddamnit, Eve!” Bill roared, and Mac winced as the words echoed around the space, bouncing off the wood-paneled walls and against all the clutter. “I told you to stay in the vehicle!”

“Yes,” she barely spared him a glance, keeping her eyes and her weapon trained on Pennyworth like maybe the pudgy guy was about to perform some sort of magic trick that would miraculously make Mac and Bill’s weapons disappear. It was quite funny when Mac thought about it. Although…he cocked his head…she was handling that snubbie like a pro. “And I’ve decided,” she licked her lips, stepping over the feet of a life-sized Captain America doll as she continued to move toward them, “ to stop doing everything people tell me to do.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time to start that!” Bill shouted, and Mac worried the dude might burst an aneurism. “Jesus! Put down the gun before you accidently shoot me or Mac.”

“Or me,” Pennyworth added, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his double chin.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Eve stomped her foot. “I know what I’m doing, so will you just…” she made a little waving motion with the revolver, “get on with it?”

Bill hesitated, his jaw ticking. Then he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Pennyworth. “Okay, Dale,” he sneered the man’s name. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions. If you don’t answer them honestly, I’ll end you. If you try anything funny, I’ll end you. If you so much as twitch in Eve’s direction, I’ll end you. And lest you think I’m bluffing, let me first inform you that I did two tours in Iraq and three in Afghanistan. I killed and maimed my enemies, and I did it all with a song in my heart. So rest assured, I have no problem pulling this trigger and turning your greasy head into nothing more than spatter patterns.”

And holy crow! After that little speech even Mac was ready to spill his guts. He glanced over to find Eve blinking rapidly and gaping at Bill. Pennyworth just swallowed, nodding eagerly.

“That’s good,” Bill smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes said he was tempted to beat the information from the man like candy from a pinata. “Now, you want to tell us where you were the night of August 28th?”

“You mean the night Eve’s apartment caught fire?” Pennyworth asked, his gaze not on Bill, but on Eve, a deep frown making his chubby face wrinkle like a Shar Pei’s.

“That’s the one,” Bill confirmed, the promise of slow death in his tone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Eve,” Pennyworth’s eyes were pleading. “I was away at a comic book conference, but if I’d been here, I would’ve—”

“You weren’t in the city that night?” Bill cut him off.

“No,” Pennyworth shook his head. “I was in Detroit, but I—”

“Do you have proof?”

“I—” Pennyworth made a face then pointed toward the messy coffee table. “I think I still have my Amtrak ticket and my hotel receipt. But I don’t understand…Wh-what is this all about?”

“Hey, partner,” Bill motioned with his chin toward the papers strewn across the coffee table, “see if our odiferous friend here is telling the truth, will you?”

“On it,” Mac said, grabbing the pen lying on top of the mess—no way was he touching anything in this place with his bare hands—in order to dig through the various documents and trash that passed as Pennyworth’s filing system. Ten years as a federal agent had given him a bullshit gauge that was damn near unerring. And right now the thing was pointing firmly in the green. Then his instincts were proved correct when he located the railway stub right before he found the receipt for the MGM Grand Hotel in downtown Detroit. He squinted at the dates. “He’s not lying.” He shook his head at Bill. “He was in the Motor City the night the fire was set.”

“Wait a second,” Pennyworth said. “I thought the blaze was an accident. I thought—”

“Thoughts?” Bill raised an eyebrow, ignoring Pennyworth.

Mac shook his head and voiced four words Bill didn’t want to hear, “He’s not our guy.”

“Then what the hell was he doing stalking that pretty little nurse?”

“I wasn’t stalking her,” Dale insisted with a whine. “Why does everyone always think that? I was just making sure she made it to the bus stop all right. This isn’t the best neighborhood, you know?”

Bill glanced down at the man’s perspiring face, looking as if he was trying to see the truth in his words. He must’ve found whatever he was looking for because he blew out a frustrated breath before holstering his weapon. Digging into his hip pocket, he pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills and thumbed off a couple of Benjamins.

“For getting your door fixed,” he told Pennyworth, dropping the bills on the overflowing coffee table. But when Pennyworth pushed into a seated position, Bill slapped a hand on the man’s shoulder and shoved him back in the recliner, leaning down until they were nose-to-nose.

Lord almighty, dude, you better hold your breath, Mac thought.

“I don’t want to hear about you following Eve anymore, you got me?” Bill growled. “If I do, I’m going to come back here to plant a boot in your ass and a fist in your teeth.”

“I-I won’t,” Pennyworth breathed, and Mac wrinkled his nose, wondering how Bill could stand being so close to the man. “I thought she needed my protection. She seemed so fragile, so…” Pennyworth’s eyes rolled toward Eve who continued to draw down on him, somehow despite her frilly blouse, managing to look tougher than a one-eared alley cat. “But she’s not. I can see that now. She doesn’t need my guardianship.”

“Guardianship?” Bill straightened, eyes narrowed at Pennyworth.

In response, the man pointed at his weird body suit then toward the corner of the room where a rubber face mask that resembled Batman’s without the pointy ears sat on a wire rack. “That’s what I call myself when I patrol the streets at night.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bill shook his head like a dog shaking off water. Then he dragged in a breath like he was praying for patience…or maybe just perseverance…and slowly spread his lips in a smile that Mac figured was supposed to put Pennyworth at ease. Unfortunately, in Mac’s opinion, all those white, shiny teeth just looked feral. Pennyworth must’ve agreed with his assessment, because the man shrank farther into his recliner. “I’m going to give you some free advice,” Bill told Pennyworth. “You going to listen to what I have to say?”

Pennyworth hesitated then vehemently nodded.

“What you’re doing, your intentions are good,” Bill stressed. “Misguided, but good.”

Pennyworth sat up a little straighter, his chest puffing out with hope and maybe a touch of pride.

Then Bill’s next words deflated him quicker than a tire punctured by a five-inch nail. “But you’re liable to get yourself and these women you think you’re protecting killed.”

“But, I—”

“No.” Bill held up his hand. “No buts. You don’t have the training or the physical stamina to fight off an attacker if one were to actually go after any of these women. If you tried, you’d undoubtedly just make a bad situation worse. You want to be a real superhero?”

Again Pennyworth nodded.

“Then lose some weight. Take some defense classes. And volunteer at a shelter for abused women.”

Pennyworth recoiled, frowning fiercely. “But I want to wear the suit,” he pointed down at his ridiculous outfit. “And I want to—”

Bill cut him off by shaking his head exasperatedly, turning to Mac and saying, “I tried.”