"Yeah," he said, and I heard him talking to the doctor before the phone cut off.
I put the phone in my back pocket, stood up a little straighter, squared my shoulders, and went out to face Olaf and Becca. I opened the door to hear my chosen niece say, "I don't know if Aunt Anita is dating Uncle Bernardo. Neither one of them is monogamous, so they could be."
Olaf looked at me, and there was a lot of rage in those dark, cavernous eyes. So much rage that his power trickled through the hallway like a breath of wind off the scalding fields of hell. Fuck. I should have known that with the level of control he had this quickly he'd be a powerful motherfucker. Like he hadn't been dangerous enough before he became a werelion. And I so did not need a jealousy issue between him and Bernardo.
"I am not dating Bernardo. The doctor had some questions about Peter's injuries. The ones he got when Otto and Peter were helping me in St. Louis." I gave Olaf a look and tried to convey with my eyes that I needed him to think, not get all pissy.
He looked confused for a minute.
"Why couldn't I hear about that?" Becca asked. "I've seen his scars. It's why he wears a T-shirt in the pool all the time now."
I remembered that he'd had a wet T-shirt on when he carried Dixie to us, but I hadn't thought about it. I'd work on his comfort level with his scars later. "Bernardo needed to ask some questions from someone who was there when Peter got hurt."
"But why?" she asked.
"Yes, why?" Olaf asked.
I just looked at him and said, "Later."
He glanced down at Becca, who was watching me far too closely for comfort.
"We will talk later."
"Yes," I said, relieved he was letting it drop.
"About many things," he said.
So much for my being relieved.
40
THERE WERE SECURITY cameras in the elevator and there usually weren't on the stairs, so the three of us were waiting for the elevator. Becca had my left hand in her right, and Olaf's right hand in her left, and was swinging our hands back and forth as she twisted on the balls of her feet to make the skirt of the pink dress swish back and forth. I realized there was some sort of slip or something underneath the skirt part that was making it billow out and make a sound like a different type of cloth was underneath, something that made that swish, swish sound as she twisted back and forth. She'd done the same kind of thing at six. She was suddenly back to being a little girl again. It was comforting, and at the same time I knew it wouldn't last. She was a little girl, but the teenager was in there peeking out more and more.
I glanced at Olaf. His face showed nothing. It didn't bother him that we were standing there holding on to Becca while she twirled, but it didn't seem to make him happy either. I turned back to look at the shiny doors of the elevator and realized that my expression was about the same as his. I guess I should stop throwing stones at Olaf unless I was willing to have them thrown back at me. We waited stoically for the elevator doors to open while Becca half danced between us.
The elevator doors opened and Rufous was standing there. His face was grim and almost angry, and then he was smiling. He looked so pleased to see us that I'd almost have thought I'd been wrong about the grim expression before, but I knew what I'd seen.
"There you are, Jeffries. I was just saying earlier today that we were missing one of the Four Horsemen, and here you are," Rufous said, and ushered us onto the elevator.
I started to get on, leading Becca. Olaf hung back a second, and since he still had Becca's other hand in his, I couldn't get on the elevator without letting go of her. Olaf said, "Weren't you getting off at this floor, Martinez?"
"Actually, I was sent to check on Anita and Becca. Marisol was wondering what took so long for the little one here to change into a pretty dress," he said, smiling at the little girl.
She let go of our hands, put her arms up gracefully above her head, and did a complete pirouette so that the skirt flew out around her and I got a glimpse of the crinkly chiffon underneath. She came down to first position, her feet in their white sandals at that odd and artificial angle that is the beginning of all ballet.
"A very pretty dress, indeed," Rufous said, beaming at her.
She beamed right back at him.
The elevator started to make a high-pitched buzzing sound. Rufous must have hit the button to make the doors stay open, and now the elevator was protesting. I put a hand on Becca's shoulder and got us both in the elevator beside Rufous. He'd seemed really tall earlier by the pool. Now I didn't feel nearly as short beside him. Something about standing next to someone who really is seven feet tall makes everyone else seem smaller.
Olaf followed us into the elevator and it suddenly seemed more claustrophobic, as if there wasn't room for Olaf and Rufous in the same small space. They were both really big men; it was just that some of Rufous's size was wide, not tall. Looking at them standing there in front of me, I could suddenly see that Rufous was at least twice as wide through the shoulders as Olaf. That wasn't middle-aged spread; that was just being a really big guy. I realized that Rufous had moved slightly in front of me and Becca. It was subtle, but he'd never done a thing to make me think he felt protective of me before. He thought Olaf was Marshal Otto Jeffries, officer in good standing, so why the change in behavior?
Olaf noticed it, of course, and he looked down at Rufous in that way that really tall men can do when they want to emphasize to another man that they're bigger. Most women miss it, but I worked with too many men not to notice.
Rufous smiled up at him with that good ol' boy smile that he usually wore, but I realized that he had his sidearm on and I was pretty sure he had his ASP, a collapsible baton, in one pocket of his shorts. I knew he had something in that pocket. A lot of police never go completely unarmed if they can help it, but Rufous wasn't usually this obvious about it. What the hell was going on?
Olaf frowned slightly, turning his head as if he was trying to see Rufous better. It wasn't aggressive, but puzzled. Olaf didn't know why Rufous had come to find us armed and ready for trouble either. Usually I like not being the only one who doesn't know what's going on, but there are only a small number of things that will make a man behave like this, and none of them were true for Rufous and me. Maybe he was protecting Becca from Uncle Otto? What had changed?
I thought of it about the same time that Olaf did. He smiled, but it was a superior smile, condescending. "I did not think my having lycanthropy would bother you this much, Martinez. I had hoped better of you."
"I don't think that's it," I said. "Rufous is cool around Micah and Nathaniel."
"If the Marshals Service sees fit to keep you on, Jeffries, then that's good enough for me. I got no problem with you failing your blood test. I was sorry to hear that you caught it on the job."
Olaf frowned harder, looking almost angry. He and I did share anger as our go-to emotion unless we worked at it. "Then why are you here?"
"I'm staying in the hotel for the wedding," Rufous said, smiling.
"As am I."
"Are you mad at each other?" Becca asked, and that meant she was picking up way more of the social context than I would have at her age.
Rufous started to look behind him at her but stopped himself and kept his attention on the other man. Even if Olaf hadn't been a werelion with more than human speed, the elevator was too small for drawing guns or batons or even blades. What most people don't realize is how fast an unarmed person can close with you. In an elevator there wouldn't be time to draw weapons, and Rufous might have been a big guy and a football player once, but he was no match for Olaf, even fully human, but now . . . A lycanthrope in an elevator is going to win unless you have your gun out and aimed and are willing to shoot them before they get a chance to move. Hell, a human with good reflexes is going to close with you, and then you get to wrestle for your gun. Not good odds. I knew logically that Olaf wouldn't want to be caught on security video behaving badly, but the little moving box was feeling awfully claustrophobic
about now.
"No, honey, we're not mad, are we, Jeffries?"
"I am not," he said in that careful voice of his. I realized that it was his version of Edward's voice going empty. I hadn't realized that I knew Olaf's voice that well.
The elevator doors opened at last. Rufous pushed the door-open button and said, "Ladies first."
I gave Becca a little push toward the door. She reached back for my hand. "You come with me." She had that stubborn set to her face that reminded me of Peter. I gave her my left hand and let her lead me toward the doors, but I wasn't leaving without Rufous and Olaf. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I wasn't letting the doors close behind me with them still inside--mainly because I didn't know why Rufous had ridden to the rescue. It wasn't like him, at least not around me.
I stopped in the doorway, putting a hand on one side of the doors just in case. "Everyone out," I said, smiling.
Olaf got out first, and then Rufous followed, but neither one of them looked away from the other completely. Rufous had started it, but Olaf was too aware of violent possibilities not to add his paranoia to the other man's. I'd have done the same thing.
One of the hotel employees came from behind the desk to ask us to please stop holding up the elevator. Rufous smiled and said, "Sorry about that."
The four of us stood in a little group. Becca still had my hand and was looking from one man to the other as people walked past us in the lobby. There was a uniformed officer at the main desk talking to the manager. There was absolutely nothing wrong, and yet Rufous was still tense. He could smile all the down-home smiles, but his body language still showed the subtle signs of a big man who was ready for trouble.
I felt a warm trickle of energy from behind us. It made me turn, with Becca's hand still in mine, so that I could glance behind me and keep an eye on Olaf.
It was Nicky moving toward us, not hurrying exactly, but moving like he had a purpose. Something tight and tense loosened in my chest. I had backup I trusted now, backup that really could go up against Olaf and have a chance.
Rufous was a cop, but he was only human, and an out-of-shape human at that.
I wanted to touch Nicky so badly when he came to stand beside me, but I acted as professional as he did.
He said in a low, tight voice, "Otto."
"Nicky," Olaf said.
Becca moved a little closer to me, as if she was picking up on the tension.
"Where is everyone else?" I asked
Nicky said, "The police are still questioning them."
"Why would they let you go and keep the others?" Olaf asked.
"Murdock is the only one who never met the missing girl," Rufous said.
"They would have let Bram go, too, but he was arguing with the cops that he was going to wait for Micah."
"He's Micah's bodyguard," I said.
"There are more useful things than arguing with cops." He looked at Olaf, who smiled.
"No arguments," I said.
"I could hear Morgan and Wyatt. It seemed like they were both winding down."
"How did you hear them?" Rufous asked.
"Through the walls. They aren't that thick."
"I keep forgetting that preternatural hearing," Rufous said.
"What about Micah and Nathaniel?"
"The police are still questioning Nathaniel, and Micah insisted on being with him or the interview had to end. I'm still not sure why the cop listened to Micah and not to Bram."
"Why are they still interviewing Nathaniel about what happened between Peter and Dixie?"
Nicky's smile slipped around the edges. There was suddenly a cynicism to his face that made me grab his arm and say, "What's wrong, Nicky?"
"They ran everyone's name through the database and Nathaniel's popped with his juvie convictions."
I frowned at him. "What does that have to do with what happened earlier today? Nathaniel didn't do anything but help with first aid."
Nicky looked at me as if I were naive.
"What am I missing here, Nicky? Just tell me."
Rufous made a throat-clearing sound that no one ever used for clearing their throat but was only to get attention. We gave it to him.
"Do you know something about this, Rufous?"
He looked embarrassed, which I hadn't seen on him before. It made me even more nervous. "Let's find my wife. Ted asked her to come in from sight-seeing when Peter went to the hospital just for you, button," he said, smiling down at Becca.
"Ted call you?" I asked.
Rufous nodded.
"I'm not a baby, Mr. Martinez. Is something wrong with Uncle Nathaniel?"
"No, button."
"And stop calling me button. I'm not an article of clothing; I'm a person. I'm just little, but I'm still a person."
I had to turn my face away and swallow hard to stop from laughing or giving her a high five. Both seemed good.
"How much time did you say you were spending with Button here?" Rufous said.
Becca glared at him. I fought not to laugh at her--one, because she was right, and two, because her dignity was on the line. People treat children as if they don't have dignity, but they do, or they can.
"How do you know this is my influence?" I asked him.
"Well, it didn't come from her mother," he said, and there was a note of unhappiness in his voice. I hated that I agreed with Olaf on this, but I did.
"Actually, my mom won't let just anyone call her names like honey or sweetheart or button," she said, arms crossed over her thin chest. That stubborn look that reminded me so much of Peter when he was younger was back.
"She lets Ted call her honeybunch," I said.
She rolled her eyes at me as if I was being stupid. "That's Dad. Of course he calls her that. She calls him teddy bear."
Nicky and Olaf were alerted to someone walking in our direction. I had to move slightly to see around Nicky. Rodina and Ru were walking toward us.
"Teddy bear, huh?" Rodina said.
"No, Morgan, don't even think about it," I said.
"I do not encourage it," said Nicky, "but if you are going to call Ted teddy bear, then I want to watch."
"As do I," Olaf said.
Rufous said, "Me, too."
"If I do it, I'll try to make sure I have an audience," Rodina said.
"If they wanted to keep Nathaniel longer, why are you free this soon, Wyatt? You flirted with her as much as Nathaniel did."
"I'm not sure," he said, but looked uncomfortable.
"I see the little woman," Rufous said, raising his arm to attract the attention of a woman who was almost as tall as he was, but without the middle-aged spread. Her hair was salt-and-pepper in careless curls cut just above her shoulders. There was a heat and happiness in Rufous's face as he looked at the tall woman all the way across the lobby that made me happy to see. As I got closer to my own wedding I liked seeing couples with a decade and counting of happily ever after. She turned and her face broke into a huge smile that made her eyes sparkle far enough away that I wasn't sure what color they were, and it was all for Rufous.
"I thought college football players were supposed to go for short cheerleaders," I said.
"Nope, I like 'em tall, and you can keep your cheerleaders. Marisol was a track star. She nearly made the Olympics," Rufous said, grinning and moving to meet his wife, so after they'd kissed each other thoroughly their conversation was private. Maybe he didn't want us to hear their terms of endearment for each other.
I fought off the urge to ask about Nathaniel again, because we had managed to distract Becca from it. I could have opened the link between Nathaniel and me and seen, or at least felt, everything he was experiencing, but opening a link that wide can alert others with psychic ability. Some police departments were starting to hire psychics or witches to monitor stuff like that. I didn't want to get Nathaniel in more trouble or explain how deep our connection went. Besides, if I kept my mouth shut and was patient, Rufous's wife, Marisol, would take the little girl somewhere else. I al
most had to count under my breath to stop myself from asking what I wanted to ask. Luckily, they didn't keep us waiting long.
They came up hand in hand, both grinning like a couple of schoolkids. It made me feel better to see them all shiny after decades of marriage. I think they'd celebrated twenty-five years together, or maybe that was Frankie and Carol. Edward and Donna had a lot of friends who had hit the twenty-plus mark, and I'd been introduced to most of them in the last forty-eight hours, so they were beginning to glom together.
I wanted to know about Nathaniel, but I wasn't sure about letting Becca out of my sight until Edward relieved me. As if he knew, I got a text from him that told me Marisol was on Becca duty now. Focus on Otto!
Becca didn't want to go with Marisol. She wanted to stay and find out what was happening with Nathaniel. I'd finally had enough. "Becca, this isn't negotiable. You go with Marisol now. We need to talk about things and I'm not sure if you need to hear them or not, and until I am sure, you need to be elsewhere."
"What if I don't go?" she said, crossing her arms and getting that stubborn look again.
"Do you really want to help Nathaniel?" Nicky asked.
She looked suspicious but said, "Yes."
"Then do what Anita says, because the sooner we can talk to her about Nathaniel, the sooner we can help him."
She opened her mouth to argue.
My stomach had tightened into a harsh knot at the phrasing. Nathaniel needed help, damn it. "Becca, this is one of the loves of my life and you're delaying my ability to help him by being a brat." Was that harsh? I didn't know, but we'd wasted enough time being nice about this.
"I'm sorry," she said, but still sounded angry about it.
"Don't be sorry; do better. Now go, so I can find out what's happening."
Marisol held out her hand and said, "There's supposed to be a great cupcake place nearby."
"I don't want a cupcake," Becca said as they walked out of hearing range across the lobby. What kind of eleven-year-old doesn't like cupcakes?
I turned back to Nicky and Rufous. "One of you talk, now."
Ru looked like he was afraid he was in trouble, too, but Rodina seemed eager, as if she was glad someone was in trouble.
"You know Nathaniel has a record for soliciting and a few other things. He pled out and never saw jail time, but he has a record," Nicky said.