Skin Trade(139)

“Then why isn’t he dead?”

“You’re so sure you could kill him?”

“Fine, then why aren’t I dead? Because I promise you this, Shaw, if we met face to face, it would be one or the other.”

“Maybe he was one of your vampire lovers.”

I looked down at the ground, trying not to get angry.

“You aren’t going to deny it, then?”

I finally looked up and didn’t try to hide that I was pissed. “I’ve tried to be a good sport here, but I’ve already told you, if reports are accurate, then he’s not capable of sex. And trust me, if I’d seen him, I’d have tried to whack his ass.”

“Intercourse isn’t possible, but a girl as busy as you are should know there are other things you can do.”

Thurgood and Morgan came up by Shaw. Thurgood said, “Sir, why don’t we step back a little.”

Edward touched my shoulder, which meant I’d probably made some involuntary movement toward him. Edward leaned over and whispered, “File a complaint.”

I nodded. “Do you want me to file an official complaint for sexual harassment? Is that what you want?”

“File and be damned, but you know more than you’re sharing with the humans, Blake.”

“Even if that’s true, Sheriff,” Morgan said, now actually standing between us, “this isn’t the way. We have reporters watching us.”

Shaw glanced back, then forward. “I was willing to believe the rumors weren’t true until I saw you hand in hand with one of Max’s weretigers and then kissing his son, also a weretiger. You claim that you just met him, and just met Gregory Minns, but no one, no one, makes friends that fast. You managed to convince some of my best men that you’re telling the truth. But I know”-he hit his big chest hard-“you fucked at least one of Bibiana’s guards, maybe more. I know that you’re no more human than the things that tortured that girl.” He pointed dramatically at the body.

What he’d just said was wrong, odd. “Which guard did I fuck?” I asked, watching his face.

He seemed to hear himself and shook his head. “How do I know, all cats are gray in the dark,” he said.

“How do you know I fucked anyone when I went to visit Bibiana?” I asked.

He fought to put his cop face back on, but it was shaky around the edges. “You came out holding hands with one of her tigers.”

“Crispin’s a stripper, like you said, not a guard. If you’re going to accuse me in front of the other policemen, you need more proof than just me holding hands with someone.”

“Maybe your reputation precedes you, Blake.” He made it mean, but it lacked a certain edge.

I was pretty sure I knew now why Shaw had gone from distrustful to hostile, and it wasn’t just issues with his wife. He’d heard tapes from our visit to Bibiana, which meant that someone had the apartments bugged. It had to be federal of some flavor, and they’d let Shaw hear just enough to smear my reputation to hell.

I tried to hear what it might have sounded like if all you had was the sound with Domino and Crispin and the rest. Would it sound like sex? Maybe. It would if that’s the interpretation you wanted to put on it. You often find what you’re looking for if that’s all you look for; expectation becomes truth.

Bernardo had come up behind us all when it looked like it was going to get interesting. He’d heard, so he got to say, “What flavor of Fed are you friends with, Shaw?”

Morgan and Thurgood had moved back from him, as if he were suddenly contagious, and maybe he was. Some Fed had let him listen in to an ongoing investigation, and he’d just spilled the fact that they had successfully bugged Max’s home to people that Shaw thought had fucked their people and were maybe more on their side than the cops.

“Shaw,” Morgan said.

Thurgood just stood there, hands at her sides, not quite looking at him, as if that would make it better. If you don’t see it, then it didn’t happen, maybe.

He knew he’d fucked up; it was there in his eyes, caught in a line of light in all the shadows. He talked to us then. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marshals. With Blake’s rep, why wouldn’t I think she’d fucked every tiger in the place?”

He’d tried for mean, but I smiled sweetly at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“You can still save this,” I said, “just ask.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was going to pretend that he hadn’t said too much. Thurgood and Morgan would probably back him on it. Did he trust that I’d play ball just because I had a badge?