JК
Micah :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 8 из 80"
"Are you saying if I don't play nice, you won't play at all?" His voice was as cold as mine had been.
"Nice, hell. Fox, I'd just take professional at this point. What has got your panties in a twist about me?"
He sighed over the phone. "I researched the federal marshals who are also animators. It's a short list."
"Yeah," I said, "it is."
"Kirkland comes in, does the job, leaves. Every time you get involved in a case, it all seems to go to hell."
I took a deep breath and counted to twenty. Ten didn't do it. "Go back through and look at the kind of cases that I get called in on, Fox. No one calls me in unless things have already gone south. It's not cause and effect."
"You have worked some rough shit. I'll grant that, Marshal Blake." He sighed again. "But you've got a reputation for killing first and asking questions later. As for rumors, you're right—they don't paint a very flattering picture of you."
"You might bear in mind, Fox, that any man you've heard dirty stories about me from didn't get to fuck me."
"You're sure of that."
"Absolutely."
"So you're saying that it's sour grapes, because he didn't get the prize."
"So we are talking about someone specific. Who?"
He was quiet for a second or two. "You worked a serial killer case in New Mexico about two years ago. Do you remember it?"
"Anyone who worked that case will remember it, Agent Fox. Special Agent Fox. Some things you don't forget."
"Did you date anyone while you were out there?"
The question puzzled me. "You mean in New Mexico?"
"Yes."
"No, why?"
"There was a cop named Ramirez."
"I remember Detective Ramirez. He asked me out, I said no, and he didn't trash me."
"How can you be sure of that?"
"Because he was a good guy, and good guys don't trash you just because you turned them down."
Micah was idling in front of one of the parking garages on Pear Tree Lane. We'd turned off of 70, and I hadn't really noticed. "Are we parking?" he asked. What Micah was asking was, Are we going to Philadelphia?
"Did any of the agents on scene ask you out?" His voice was serious and not hostile now.
"Not that I remember."
"Did you have a problem with anyone while you were there?"
"Lots of people."
"You admit it."
"Fox, I am female, I clean up well, have a badge and a gun, raise the dead for a living, and slay vampires. A lot of people have issues with some of the above.
"Are you saying if I don't play nice, you won't play at all?" His voice was as cold as mine had been.
"Nice, hell. Fox, I'd just take professional at this point. What has got your panties in a twist about me?"
He sighed over the phone. "I researched the federal marshals who are also animators. It's a short list."
"Yeah," I said, "it is."
"Kirkland comes in, does the job, leaves. Every time you get involved in a case, it all seems to go to hell."
I took a deep breath and counted to twenty. Ten didn't do it. "Go back through and look at the kind of cases that I get called in on, Fox. No one calls me in unless things have already gone south. It's not cause and effect."
"You have worked some rough shit. I'll grant that, Marshal Blake." He sighed again. "But you've got a reputation for killing first and asking questions later. As for rumors, you're right—they don't paint a very flattering picture of you."
"You might bear in mind, Fox, that any man you've heard dirty stories about me from didn't get to fuck me."
"You're sure of that."
"Absolutely."
"So you're saying that it's sour grapes, because he didn't get the prize."
"So we are talking about someone specific. Who?"
He was quiet for a second or two. "You worked a serial killer case in New Mexico about two years ago. Do you remember it?"
"Anyone who worked that case will remember it, Agent Fox. Special Agent Fox. Some things you don't forget."
"Did you date anyone while you were out there?"
The question puzzled me. "You mean in New Mexico?"
"Yes."
"No, why?"
"There was a cop named Ramirez."
"I remember Detective Ramirez. He asked me out, I said no, and he didn't trash me."
"How can you be sure of that?"
"Because he was a good guy, and good guys don't trash you just because you turned them down."
Micah was idling in front of one of the parking garages on Pear Tree Lane. We'd turned off of 70, and I hadn't really noticed. "Are we parking?" he asked. What Micah was asking was, Are we going to Philadelphia?
"Did any of the agents on scene ask you out?" His voice was serious and not hostile now.
"Not that I remember."
"Did you have a problem with anyone while you were there?"
"Lots of people."
"You admit it."
"Fox, I am female, I clean up well, have a badge and a gun, raise the dead for a living, and slay vampires. A lot of people have issues with some of the above.