53
EDWARD GOT HIS SUNGLASSES out of the glove compartment and handed them to me before we went inside the hospital. My eyes hadn't changed back, though I knew the effect was beginning to wear off, because the fact that my eyes were still black and glowy was beginning to worry me. It was a good sign.
Nicky Baco was not in a private room. The police had his roommate moved to a different room. Nicky was in traction, and wasn't going anywhere. He lay in the bed and looked smaller than I knew he was. The leg that had been badly broken was in a cast from toe to thigh. Little pulleys and cords held his leg up at an odd angle that must have been hell on the back.
Ramirez had been questioning Nicky for about thirty minutes and was getting nowhere. Edward and I leaned against the wall and watched the show. But Nicky had done exactly what we'd feared he'd do. He'd grasped his situation and his options right away. He was going to die. So why should he help us?
"We know where the monster you made is, Nicky. We know what you did. Help us stop this thing before it kills again."
"And what?" Nicky said. "I know the law. There's no life in prison for a witch that uses magic to kill. It's an automatic death sentence. You got nothing to offer me, Ramirez."
I pushed away from the wall and touched Ramirez's arm. He looked at me, and the frustration was already showing. He'd been informed that Lieutenant Marks was on the way. He wanted to crack Baco before Marks arrived so he would get credit and not his lieutenant. Political, but the reality in most police work.
"Can I ask a few questions, Detective?"
He took a breath, let it out slow. "Sure." He stepped back to let me stand beside the bed.
I looked down at Nicky. Someone had handcuffed one of his wrists to the bed rail. I wasn't sure it was necessary with the traction, but it made a nice point. "What would the Red Woman's Husband do if he knew you gave away his secret hideout?"
He stared up at me, and even through the sunglasses I could see the hate in his eyes. I could also see the fast rise and fall of his chest, the thud of the pulse in his neck. He was scared.
"Answer me, Nicky."
"He'd kill me."
"How?"
That made him frown. "What do you mean, how?"
"I mean what method of death would he use? How would he kill you?"
Nicky shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. The leg pulled tight, and he jerked on the handcuffed wrist, making it rattle up and down the bar. There was no comfortable position for Nicky tonight.
"He'd probably send his monster after me. It'd cut me up and gut me like it's done to the others."
"His minion slaughtered all the witches or psychics, and skinned the mundanes. That's it, isn't it?"
"If you're so smart, you don't need to ask me. You have all the answers."
"Not all of them," I said. I touched the bed rail that he was cuffed to, wrapped my hands around it on either side of the cuff so he couldn't slide it without hitting one of my hands. "I've seen the bodies, Nicky. It's a bad way to go, but there are worse things."
He gave a harsh laugh. "Being gutted alive ¨C doesn't get much worse than that," he said.
I took the sunglasses off and let him see the eyes.
He stopped breathing for a heartbeat. He just stared up at me, eyes growing wide, breath trapped in his throat.
I touched his hand, and he screamed. "Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me!" He was jerking on the handcuff frantically, over and over, as if that would help.
Ramirez came to stand on the other side of the bed across from me. He looked a question at me.
"I didn't hurt him, Hernando."
"Get her the fuck away from me."
"Tell us where the monster is, and I'll send her out of the room."
Nicky looked from one to the other of us, and the fear showed on his face now. You didn't have to have vampire vision to see it. "You can't do this to me. You're the cops."
"We're not doing anything to you," Ramirez said.
Nicky's eyes flicked back to me. "You're the cops. You can execute me, but you can't torture me. That's the law."
"You're right, Nicky. The police aren't allowed to torture prisoners." I leaned in close and whispered, "But I'm not the police."
He started tugging on the chain again, rattling it up and down the bar. "Get her away from me, now! I want a lawyer. I want a fucking lawyer."
Ramirez turned to the two uniformed cops waiting by the door. "Go call Mr. Baco a lawyer."
The two cops looked at each other. "Both of us?" one asked.
Ramirez nodded. "Yeah, both of you."
They exchanged another look and went for the door. The taller one asked, "How long you think this phone call should take?"
"A while, and knock before you come back in."