JК
Cerulean Sins :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 102 из 352"
"Storr isn't here," he said, arms crossed over his chest.
Great, he didn't recognize my name—so much for being a celebrity—and he was going to play 'don't want the feds pissing in my pond!
Jason had gotten out on his side of the Jeep. Maybe I looked a little disreputable in my slightly wrinkled suit, with a run in my hose that went from toe to thigh, but Jason didn't look like a fed, or a cop. He was dressed in blue jeans that had faded through enough washings to be comfortable, a blue T-shirt that almost matched his eyes, still hidden behind the mirrored shades, and white jogging shoes. It had turned out to be one of those unusually warm fall days we get sometimes. Too warm for his leather jacket, so he hadn't bothered with anything else. The white gauze and tape on his forearms were very noticeable.
He leaned on the hood of the Jeep, smiling pleasantly and looking so not like a federal anything.
Officer Jenkins's eyes flicked to Jason, then back to me. "We didn't call the feds in."
Standing there in my three-inch heels on the slightly uneven road was making me feel light-headed again. I did not have the patience, or the strength, to debate.
"Officer Jenkins, I am a federal marshal, do you know what that means?"
"Nope," he said, making the word longer than it was.
"It means that I don't need your permission to enter this crime scene. I don't need anybody's permission. So it doesn't matter if the lieutenant is here or not. I told you who alerted me to this crime out of courtesy, but if you don't want to be courteous, officer, then we don't have to be."
I turned and looked at Jason. Normally, I would have left him at the car, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure I could make it up the rest of the hill without falling over. I genuinely didn't feel well enough to be here. But here I was, and I was going to see this crime scene.
I motioned Jason to me. He came around the Jeep, his smile fading around the edges. Maybe I looked as pale as I felt.
"Let's go."
"He's not a fed," Jenkins said.
I'd had enough of Jenkins. If I'd been feeling better I would have bullied our way through, but… there were other ways to bully.
I waited until Jason was there to steady me, then I moved my hair to one side showing the white gauze and tape on my own neck. I pulled on one side of the tape until it peeled down, and I could flash the bite at Jenkins. It wasn't a neat puncture wound. Asher had gotten carried away, because the edges of the wounds were torn.
"Shiiit," Jenkins said.
"Storr isn't here," he said, arms crossed over his chest.
Great, he didn't recognize my name—so much for being a celebrity—and he was going to play 'don't want the feds pissing in my pond!
Jason had gotten out on his side of the Jeep. Maybe I looked a little disreputable in my slightly wrinkled suit, with a run in my hose that went from toe to thigh, but Jason didn't look like a fed, or a cop. He was dressed in blue jeans that had faded through enough washings to be comfortable, a blue T-shirt that almost matched his eyes, still hidden behind the mirrored shades, and white jogging shoes. It had turned out to be one of those unusually warm fall days we get sometimes. Too warm for his leather jacket, so he hadn't bothered with anything else. The white gauze and tape on his forearms were very noticeable.
He leaned on the hood of the Jeep, smiling pleasantly and looking so not like a federal anything.
Officer Jenkins's eyes flicked to Jason, then back to me. "We didn't call the feds in."
Standing there in my three-inch heels on the slightly uneven road was making me feel light-headed again. I did not have the patience, or the strength, to debate.
"Officer Jenkins, I am a federal marshal, do you know what that means?"
"Nope," he said, making the word longer than it was.
"It means that I don't need your permission to enter this crime scene. I don't need anybody's permission. So it doesn't matter if the lieutenant is here or not. I told you who alerted me to this crime out of courtesy, but if you don't want to be courteous, officer, then we don't have to be."
I turned and looked at Jason. Normally, I would have left him at the car, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure I could make it up the rest of the hill without falling over. I genuinely didn't feel well enough to be here. But here I was, and I was going to see this crime scene.
I motioned Jason to me. He came around the Jeep, his smile fading around the edges. Maybe I looked as pale as I felt.
"Let's go."
"He's not a fed," Jenkins said.
I'd had enough of Jenkins. If I'd been feeling better I would have bullied our way through, but… there were other ways to bully.
I waited until Jason was there to steady me, then I moved my hair to one side showing the white gauze and tape on my own neck. I pulled on one side of the tape until it peeled down, and I could flash the bite at Jenkins. It wasn't a neat puncture wound. Asher had gotten carried away, because the edges of the wounds were torn.
"Shiiit," Jenkins said.