by E. A. Copen
“So I’m just supposed to let him do whatever he wants to me?”
“No,” I snapped back, thinking of Katie. “If it comes to a fight, never throw the first punch, no matter what, but you make damn sure you throw the last one. Make it count. Don’t ever let him forget it.”
“But you said it was wrong to get into fights.” Hunter put his plate down on the sofa cushion and frowned at me.
I turned my attention back to the nightly news on the screen where they were covering the story of Baron’s arrest. “Some people just need punching.” I was quick to add, “That doesn’t mean you start the fight, Hunter. You don’t. Violence is always a last resort, and when you have to use it, you use it to protect yourself and those you care about, never for anything else. Understand?”
He nodded and went back to eating his pizza.
I hoped I hadn’t just written my son a blank check to beat up a bully, even if the bully deserved it.
SEVERAL DAYS OF MUNDANITY passed. Katie’s case passed out of my hands and into the cogs and pipes of the legal system. Eventually, I knew I’d get the call, telling me he was up for trial. In the meantime, I took solace in the fact that Baron Grahm slept behind bars.
Reporters tried to call me several times and I passed them off as best I could to someone else in the department or up the BSI chain. I wasn’t really supposed to talk to reporters. As much as I wanted to leak details of the case to the press and watch them smear Baron’s name for what he’d done, doing so would have compromised the assistant district attorney’s case.
They held Katie’s funeral on the following Tuesday. I couldn’t make it to the service at the church because of work, but I drove out to the cemetery right after. It was cool afternoon, but it was easy to feel the touch of spring in the air. The service wasn’t difficult to spot. There was only one slated for that afternoon.
A small crowd of people dressed in black stood under a day shade with folding chairs. I stood back several rows and watched from there. The gathering felt too intimate to interrupt with my presence. I’d only known Katie after she died, and it felt wrong to intrude on those remembering her life.
I wondered what she’d been like. What were her hopes and dreams? What kind of world would Katie North have built had she lived?
“Agent Black?”
I turned my head as an older man approached. He had a small face. The glasses he wore emphasized his red nose too much and he was balding. He wore an expensive suit though, and carried a stylish hat in his hands to cover up the thinning hair line. He placed it on his head as he closed the distance between us.
“Senator Grahm,” I said. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Why not? Shouldn’t I mourn the dead?”
I turned my eyes forward as he stopped beside me. “Just feels strange to see you mourning a death your son caused.”
“My son made a mistake,” said the senator after a long pause.
I raised my eyebrows. “A mistake? You call assaulting an innocent girl behind a dumpster a mistake?”
Senator Grahm rolled his head to the side. “Come now, Agent Black. I’m sure you read all about Katie in her file. The girl had a long history of promiscuity. She was only holding onto her scholarship at the school by a thread because she preferred parties to class. Her attendance records will show that. Besides, do you honestly think my human son could overpower a werewolf? Girl or no, she had to be supernaturally strong. Her body could’ve shut that down on instinct, even unconscious, or so the experts tell me.”
“I’m not hearing this.” I started to walk away.
“And let’s not forget the dress she was wearing when it happened. By all accounts—”
I spun around and stormed back to look him in the eyes. “Are you seriously going to stand this close to her grave and call her a whore?” I stepped away from the senator. “What’s wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “You’re the one who used that word, not me. But, while we’re on the subject, you and I both know both Baron and Katie were impaired that night. She was suffering from a recent break-up, and barely a four. My son is a student who turned down modeling gigs to go to law school. Way out of her league. Do you really think what happened wasn’t consensual?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “Because Katie said it wasn’t. Besides, Baron confessed.”
“He confessed to having intimate relations with Katie North while she was impaired. He still claims she indicated consent before she passed out. The only reason he’s still being held instead of being released into my custody, the only reason you people want to ruin his life, is because he didn’t stop when she closed her eyes. Now, you tell me, Agent Black, when you’re with a man do you keep your eyes open the entire time?”
“You tell me, Senator, when you run for your next term, how fucked are you going to be when your opponent drags all this out for the women of your voter base to hear?”
He folded his hands in front of him. “There will be nothing to drag out. In six months, this business will be forgotten. Katie North will be forgotten and you’ll be unemployed. I’ll make sure of that.” He tugged his hat down. “Enjoy Cleveland while you can.”
I watched him go, a new fire in my chest and a sour taste in my mouth. A fantasy played in my head, the same one every cop resorts to when they have to watch a bad guy walk away. In it, I pulled my gun and shot the senator in the back of the head. After he got into his luxury car with his hired driver, I let the fantasy go. A quick shot to the head was more than he deserved anyway.
“Agent Black?”
I turned my head to see a red-eyed woman with sandy blonde hair approaching. Her cheeks were red and splotchy, tell-tale signs that she’d been crying just moments ago. I recognized her from Katie’s file, her mother Mariann.
“Mrs. North.” I gave her a quick bob of my head and turned to go, hoping to avoid an awkward conversation. She’d have questions about the investigation and trial, questions I wouldn’t be allowed to answer.
“It’s just Miss North now,” she said hurrying to keep pace with me. “Katie’s father passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. He lived a good life.” She folded her arms and walked the next few steps in silence. “I wanted to thank you.”
“What for?” I stopped, finally realizing I wasn’t going to be able to get out of talking to her. She’d been through enough. The least I could do was listen.
“I know you’re the one who pushed for the criminal charges to be filed. Without you, what happened to my daughter would’ve been buried. Baron Grahm would still be on the streets.”
“Miss North—”
She surprised me by reaching out to take my hand. Normally, I wouldn’t let strangers touch me, but I couldn’t turn her away, not when she was feet from her daughter’s grave and fighting tears. “I know you can’t talk about the case or your involvement in it, but I wanted you to know what you’ve done matters. I don’t have a lot of money and can’t afford an expensive lawyer or private investigators. If you hadn’t stood for Katie, that story he told, it would be all anyone remembered of her. I don’t want her to be remembered as the girl who got raped behind a dumpster, or the girl who killed herself. She was a good girl, a smart girl.” He voice trembled and grew thick at the end of her speech. When she blinked, the floodgates opened and she couldn’t stop herself from crying.
I placed my other hand on top of hers and squeezed. “Miss North, I give you my word. I’m going to make sure Baron Grahm can’t hurt anyone else again, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure my department and the DA remembers Katie, the real Katie. Okay?”
She nodded and withdrew her hand before turning swiftly and walking away.
I knew she’d wanted to say more, but so overcome with grief the words had eluded her. There would be more words. Words in the papers, in the courtroom, some sworn under oath and others taken out of context. I couldn’t battle them all.
No one could. But I could make sure Baron Grahm stayed right where he belonged behind bars for the rest of his natural life.
HAD KATIE BEEN ALIVE, she would have been planning Spring Break about the time Baron’s trial began. It went exactly as I thought it would. The pair of state attorneys presented their evidence, all based in science and witness testimony. I gave my statement on the second day after being sworn in. The prosecutor asked me all the usual questions, and we went over all the evidence I’d uncovered in the wake of Katie’s death. It was all routine until the defense swooped in for cross-examination.
Baron’s primary lawyer, a thin, attractive young woman with glasses, stood, pretending to examine a paper inside a folder on her desk. “Agent Black, you stated you work for the Bureau of Supernatural Investigations, is that right?”
I leaned forward to speak clearly into the microphone, just in case she was hard of hearing. “That’s what I said.”
“You also stated that your only involvement with the alleged victim stems from an investigation into her death, which was ruled a suicide by the coroner.”
“Objection,” the district attorney stated, tapping his pen on the desk. “Leading the witness.”
The judge sighed and shifted his glasses. “Ask a question or sit down, Ms. Terrance.”
The defense lawyer smiled and closed the folder. “I’ll rephrase.” She turned to me, her eyes glacial. “Were you assigned to work this as a rape case?”
“No, but—”
“And before she died, did Katie North ever complain to you about my client?” She gestured to Baron, who sat with his hands folded over his silk tie.
I clenched my jaw. “No.”
“Someone else in your department, then?”
“Baron Grahm raped Katie, and his actions directly contributed to her death,” I said, glaring at Baron instead of his attorney. “You’re lucky you’re not facing down a manslaughter charge, young man.”
“Objection!” the defense lawyer cried. “Your Honor!”
The judge made a note on his paper. “The jury will disregard that last statement. Agent Black, stay in line and please refrain from addressing the defendant directly.”
“Your Honor, I have evidence here, disciplinary records that will state Agent Black has a long history of troubling behaviors, including harassing my client and his family.”
“Bullshit,” I spat. “Marching a rapist naked through the street isn’t harassment. It’s justice.”
“Agent Black, you will refrain from further outbursts or I’ll hold you in contempt of this court!” The judge struck his gavel to the desk.
If I had a dollar for every time a judge had threatened me with contempt, I’d be a wealthy woman.
The defense presented her documents. She asked me about every black mark on my career she could find, but especially cases where I’d done my damnedest to make sure the rich and powerful got what they deserved. Justice applied to everyone, and it had always been my motto. Now, that was getting me in trouble. The way she paraded my cases in front of the jury painted me as a man-hater with a personal vendetta against anyone richer than me. Every time I tried to explain or give more details, she cut me off or added an objection.
By the time I stepped down from the witness stand, I was shaking with anger. I couldn’t meet Miss North’s eyes as I walked to the back of the courtroom and sat down. I’d failed her, but most of all, I’d failed Katie.
Meanwhile, the defense appealed to the jury’s emotion. They called Baron an upstanding citizen and exemplary student.
Despite motions from the state, the judge allowed them present character witnesses. That included his frat house friends from the party who universally claimed to have seen Baron and Katie grinding and whispering to each other before she left the party. No one could definitively state how much alcohol either had consumed, as it had been a long time since that night.
True to his father’s words, Baron didn’t deny that the encounter took place, but maintained he was innocent since he had obtained prior consent. Ultimately, no one could prove otherwise.
After the parade of frat boys to and from the witness stand, I knew the case was all but a lost cause and saw myself out. All that remained of the trial were closing remarks and the jury’s deliberation. It could still go either way, I supposed. I couldn’t guess at how everything made the jury feel, but I couldn’t stomach another minute of it and drove home and fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Hunter to get home from school.
The phone woke me just after six that same afternoon. The captain was on the other end with a lot of background noise. “Agent Black, we have a situation.”
I sat up, on high alert. Whenever the captain said something like that, it meant something had gone to shit and I was about to get called into work early. “What’s the situation?”
“Baron Grahm’s been taken.”
How? I wondered. Because the case was so politically charged, and because the Grahms could afford it, Baron was being transported to and from jail by a whole team of cops in an armored car. The senator was afraid being a senator’s son would make Baron a target and not even I could argue that wasn’t true. The case had too much visibility, and more than one person probably had the same fantasy as me about shooting someone to make a point.
For anyone to have access to Baron, they’d have to be able to take out several well-trained, armed men and do it before he got into the armored car. They’d have to be supernaturally strong, supernaturally fast, and have a bone to pick with Baron, one they didn’t mind dying for.
My mind worked through a quick list of people before I settled on one name. “Mariann North.”
I scrambled to start up my laptop and cursed at myself for not thinking she might do something stupid. I should have looked her up in BSI’s database earlier.
Werewolves inherit their condition from their same-sex parents, which meant Katie would have gotten her werewolf traits from her mother. I knew that, and had made a note of it while talking to her in the cemetery, but didn’t think much of it. I was so confident we had an ironclad case against Baron that I didn’t consider she might try to take the law into her own hands.
“We’re not sure,” the captain said, “but we think so. Survivors of the attack say a single gray wolf, too big to be a normal wolf or a coyote, jumped them. They put a few bullets in it, but that didn’t slow it down.”
“Of course not,” I quipped. Regular police were still carrying regular bullets. Silver was too expensive for standard issue, so unless they’d been expecting trouble, they wouldn’t have had any on them. “If it is her, the silver didn’t even penetrate. It just pissed her off.”
“All we know so far is that the werewolf grabbed Baron and brought him to an empty warehouse on 55th Street. A couple of guys saw them go in. We’ve got the building pretty well shut down, so no one’s coming or going but—”
“But now you’ve got a hostage situation,” I finished. “With a werewolf.”
“This is your case,” the captain reminded me. “You’ve got rapport with Mariann North. That’s the only reason I’m calling you, Black. She’s not going to listen to any of us.”
While I’d been talking, I’d pulled up Mariann’s file. I hit print and stood, shutting my laptop. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Keep her from killing him until then, will you?”
I hung up and pulled the papers from my printer. When I turned around, Hunter was standing behind me. “Hunter,” I exclaimed, gulping in a breath. “I gotta go, kiddo. Get in the jar on top of the fridge for pizza money, would you? I’ll send Hattie Miles up from downstairs.”
He made a face. “I hate her. She smells like mothballs.”
I ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug before darting for the door. “Be nice to Hattie, and no watching the news!”
I ARRIVED AT THE PERIMETER the police had set up just a few minutes later. Blue and red lights flashed in the darkness, lighting up the whole sky. The warehouse stood a silent vigil ag
ainst the sound of radios buzzing and the two choppers circling overhead. The building across the street had been commandeered as well, and the captain would have placed a sniper on the roof, poised to take out the werewolf if she showed her face.
I parked my car at the edge of the blockade and jogged toward the center, flashing the badge I wore in a string around my neck to anyone who tried to stop me. The captain stood behind an open squad car door, next to a police officer who had his gun aimed at the front door.
“Have any shots been fired?” I asked, gasping for air as I stopped in front of them. The jog had been less than kind, especially with as humid as the night was.
“No shots fired,” the captain reported. “I have an entry team on standby.” He nodded to a tech who had appeared holding a metal briefcase.
At his signal, she approached, opened the case and started configuring the wire I’d have to wear to go inside.
“Werewolves get edgy around guns,” I warned. “She won’t be shooting back at you.” I knew he couldn’t pull the police back, not with a hostage inside, but putting away the guns would de-escalate the situation and make it less dangerous for me to enter.
The captain put his hands on his hips. “Just what do you propose?”
“Anyone without silver bullets is wasting their time anyway. Pull them. Hold the entry team until I tell you.”
The tech handed me a small box that I tucked into the waistline of my pants against the small of my back. The tiniest of microphones clipped to the inside collar of my shirt. She handed me a beige, wireless earpiece. In good lighting, it’d be easily noticeable, but thankfully it was night. Not that I would’ve gone in without it. In a crisis situation, being able to communicate with your team is paramount.
The captain shook his head. “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Then, my entry team goes in.”
“Captain, if you put a time limit on this, it’s going to end in bloodshed,” I said, finishing adjusting the earpiece. “Let me do my job and keep your men back until I say so.” I turned to the tech and asked, “Do we have a line inside?”