Human Nature

6

BOBBIE’S Grill was Rule’s suggestion. The food, he said, was nothing special, but it arrived quickly and the portions were generous. Speed and portion size mattered for the same reason they were eating supper so early: the Change burns calories, and a hungry wolf is an edgy wolf.

Besides, his stomach was on the same clock as hers, and hers said it was after eight. On the way there, Lily checked her official email and found that the request for the police reports on Hilliard’s death was still pending. Big surprise.

She also saw that the photos she’d sent of the tattoo had been passed to Arjenie Fox, a young witch who worked in research. Arjenie was good. Lily sent her a quick note asking to be contacted as soon as she knew anything.

Once they arrived, Lily saw one more reason Rule had chosen Bobbie’s. It had outdoor seating. At this hour, the majority of customers were rushing home from work and opting for take-out, so they had the patio to themselves. The low wall around the patch of cement didn’t do much to reduce traffic noise or provide privacy, but the openness would be soothing to a claustrophobic lupus newly released from a cell.

Another plus: fish tacos. “Did you know they don’t have fish tacos in D.C.?” she asked Jason as Rule put down the plastic trays with their order.

“You’re kidding.” He shook his head and reached for the salsa. “How could they not, a cosmopolitan place like that?”

“They’ve never even heard of fish tacos.” Lily grabbed her tacos and began doctoring them with extra shredded cabbage, a generous dollop of salsa, and pickles. Rule had had to ask for the pickles; for some reason they weren’t a universally approved accompaniment for fish tacos.

“Go figure.” Jason said that around a healthy mouthful of tortilla and batter-fried fish. He swallowed. “That was so cool, what you did with the phone. I didn’t know you could do that—make it work like a web cam.”

“I don’t think you can.” Lily decided the tacos needed more salsa and spooned it on. “At least, I know I can’t.”

“It was a bluff?” Jason hooted and slapped his thigh. “Man, I’d like to be a fly on the wall when Daly realizes you bluffed him.”

Rule frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Daly had a pair of officers training rifles on Jason,” she explained. “With orders to shoot if he moved. I had to persuade him he couldn’t get away with it, and I was short on options.”

Jason turned to Rule. “I wish you’d seen it. She’s got guts. They were aimed for me, so she stepped up between me and their guns. Told ’em their chief was a bloody idiot.” Jason grinned. “And when they didn’t—”

Rule broke in, his voice flat. “You stepped in front of their rifles.”

Uh-oh. Rule hadn’t been thrilled about her going in there alone in the first place. “I needed to interfere with their line of fire.”

“Dammit, Lily, Jason can heal most wounds! You promised me—”

“I promised I wouldn’t get in the cell with Jason until he Changed back. I didn’t.” But Jason had never been the main threat. Lily’s pleasure in the fish taco faded. She put it down and said quietly, “He’s a bad cop, Rule. Daly’s not just a bully with a badge. If he hasn’t yet killed, using the badge to protect himself, he will.”

He met her eyes. She saw the turbulence in him, the desire to go back and tear Daly apart. Maybe rip down the jail, too. After a moment he grimaced. “I suppose now you’ll tell me it must have been a good decision, since you’re still alive.”

“He intended to kill Jason. I wasn’t sure about that until I saw how he’d set the stage. I interfered with his plans, but he was damn near mad enough to go ahead anyway. So I bluffed.”

Jason spoke—more subdued now, but with a stubborn set to his jaw. “She handled herself. Handled Daly, too. She told him her phone was transmitting images to FBI headquarters. He bought it. Hell, I did, too…well, not immediately, because I was beast-lost at the time.” He flushed beneath his tan. “I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t…I knew I shouldn’t Change, but I felt so trapped, I—”

“It’s all right, Jason.” Rule managed a wry smile. “I understand the experience, believe me.”

“You wouldn’t have given in. You wouldn’t have Changed.”

“I’m Lu Nuncio. You aren’t. Why would you expect yourself to behave as if you were?”

Jason’s grin flickered. “Just as well I don’t, isn’t it?”

Rule’s phone sang out the opening bars from Mozart’s Night Music. That meant it was his father. Lily turned to Hal Newman while Rule answered. “Why haven’t I seen you around Clanhome?”

“You have.” Mischief lurked in eyes as blue as those of the other Newman. “We didn’t actually meet, but I was visiting my son and granddaughter there the first time you came to Clanhome. You looked right at me. What a blow to my ego that you don’t remember.”

Lily frowned, calling up memories of a day that remained vivid, if somewhat jumbled. There’d been a lot going on. “A large, silvery gray wolf?”

“Beth likes to play horsie.”

“Beth.” She smiled. “That’s my sister’s name.”

Jason perked up. “You have a sister?”

“Two. One older and married. One younger and…” She looked at Jason’s tanned and appealing face and finished wryly, “probably interested in meeting you.” Beth thought Lily took too many risks. Lily thought the same of Beth. Different risks.

Lily kept the conversation on lighter matters, ably abetted by Newman, who insisted she call him Hal. She had plenty of questions for Jason, but she’d let him eat first, get himself steadier. Rule didn’t take part; he was filling his father in on the day’s events. Lily had finished both of her tacos by the time he disconnected.

The last of their conversation had been particularly interesting, though Rule’s portion had consisted of, “She would, yes” and “I don’t think so” and “No, she won’t.”

“That was about me,” Lily said.

He looked at her, his face unreadable. “In part.”

Hal—who’d eaten his tacos with a knife and fork—shepherded an errant bit of fish back inside the tortilla as he spoke, a trace of apology in his voice. “I couldn’t help overhearing. The Rho is offended by Chief Daly?”

He meant that he’d heard both sides of the conversation—though Lily suspected the “couldn’t help” part was hooey. He must have been listening carefully in order to hear Isen.

Sometimes she really envied lupi their hearing.

Rule’s answer had an oddly formal ring. “Irrevocably offended.”

Jason and Hal both went still for a second. Then Hal smiled, said, “Good,” and popped his last bite into his mouth.

Lily looked from one male face to the next. “What? What does that mean? Is he offended the way a Mafia don is just before he takes out a contract?”

“Of course not.” Hal smiled at her. “If Chief Daly were clan, a statement of irrevocable offense would mean Challenge. That’s not applicable with a human, obviously.”

“Challenge to the death?”

“Well…yes, if the offense is irrevocable. With clan,” he repeated. “Daly is unlikely to accept such a challenge, if Isen were foolish enough to offer one, isn’t he?”

She didn’t trust those twinkling blue eyes. She looked at Rule. “Hal asked you if the Rho was offended. Not Isen. The Rho.”

He sighed. “You pick awkward moments to deepen your understanding of us. Yes, there is a difference. If a Rho declares irrevocable offense, it means the offense was to the clan and it cannot be cleared by apology or atonement. Nokolai’s full resources will be bent toward removing Daly.”

“From his job or his life?”

“Murder is an untidy way of dealing with the human world. The repercussions are too unpredictable. Isen means to ruin the man, and he has many resources to draw upon—some of which you might not consider entirely ethical, so I won’t discuss them.”

She studied him a moment. Unethical might mean bribes, blackmail, or a frame. “Daly’s a bad cop. I want him out, but legally.”

“Isen didn’t tell me what he plans. He won’t, and I won’t speculate on them. He understands that your view is different on such matters and doesn’t wish to offer you uncomfortable choices.”

Offer her uncomfortable choices. Ha. That sounded just like Rule’s father. Lily scowled, but let the subject drop…for now. She turned to Jason. “I’d like to make this official now, ask you some questions. You’ve got your lawyer here.”

But it was Rule Jason glanced at, not Hal. Rule said, “Before you begin, Lily, I need to ask Jason something.” He looked directly at the young man. “Did you kill Steve Hilliard?”

“No. Of course not.”

Rule nodded and leaned back. “All right. Then I expect you to answer Lily’s questions honestly and completely.”

“Okay. Sure. Whatever I can do to help.”

Lily took out her notebook and pen. She could have asked to record the interview, but she wanted him relaxed. She took him through the basics—his relationship to the deceased, whether he knew about Hilliard’s will—he did—and where he’d been and what he’d done the night Steve Hilliard was killed.

Home alone, he told her.

“Jason,” Rule said. Just that.

The two of them locked gazes for a bare second before Jason looked down. “Okay, I wasn’t home and I wasn’t alone, not until about three the next morning. But the lady I was with doesn’t need to be dragged into this. She has nothing to do with it. She didn’t even know Steve.”

Hal sighed. Lily suspected Jason hadn’t told his lawyer about his alibi, either. “I’ll keep her out of this if I can,” she said, “but I have to speak with her and confirm what you’ve told me.”

He grimaced, flicked a glance at Rule, and looked at the table. “She’s married. She’d be really upset if her husband found out. They don’t have, uh, an open relationship.”

Rule spoke quietly. “And if your seed had caught in her womb, who would have raised your child?”

“I know, I know…but she’s so sad. I wanted to make her feel better about herself.”

Lily managed not to sigh, but she wanted to. Lupi had no moral objections to adultery per se. Only to situations where it would be difficult to claim a child born from the union. “I can’t guarantee her husband won’t learn or guess about your affair, but I’ll do what I can. Her name?”

He gave her the name, an address, a phone number, and the time and place of their assignation—which, if accurate, would certainly alibi him, since he said neither of them had slept. And since they’d met at a motel and he’d used his charge card, there would be a record of their stay.

Next she asked about the tattoo. As she’d thought, it hadn’t been there when Jason last saw Steve around eight. Jason had never heard Steve express any interest in being tattooed, and was convinced he wouldn’t have done it voluntarily. Tattoos, to a lupus, meant the old registration laws.

Then she asked about Mariah Friar and the baby she claimed was Steve’s.

“Yeah, he knew about that. He was…” Jason glanced at Rule. “Well, you know Steve. It hurt him for her to claim that, but he was gentle with her. Told her the baby wasn’t his. She didn’t believe him. Didn’t want to, I think. She loves the idea that she really poked a stick in her old man’s eye, you know?”

“Is she estranged from her father?”

“Yeah, but…see, Mariah’s always trying to get a reaction. She wants him to get mad. To react like she mattered. He won’t react because—this is kind of creepy—he says his daughter died. That’s how he puts it. Mariah Friar is alive, but his daughter is dead.”

“You know Friar?”

“It’s a small town. We’ve bumped a few times, but I avoid him whenever possible.”

“You seem to know Mariah pretty well.”

“Well…yeah.”

Something in those guileless blue eyes made her ask, “How well?”

“Geez.” He rubbed his short hair with one hand. “If I answer that honestly, you’ll think I’m scum. But Mariah’s like clan. She thinks of sex as comfort or friendship or just pleasure. She isn’t hung up on fidelity.”

Lily didn’t say anything. Rule didn’t either. Maybe he smelled disapproving, though, because Jason spoke earnestly to him. “She was pretty messed up back when you knew her. She’s a lot more together now, or I wouldn’t…but Steve really helped her. She feels good about herself these days.”

Lily took them back to the subject. “You met Mariah through Steve?”

“More or less. There’s this group, see. They’re all pretty young, or most of them, and they see themselves as rebels. They want to, uh, champion our cause. Mariah’s one of them.”

“Is this group mostly female?”

“Well…yeah, but not all of them.”

“Lupus groupies.”

“Some of them, maybe.” Jason looked uncomfortable, glancing again at Rule. “They’re pretty tame compared to the ones you’d find in the city at a place like Club Hell. More witch wannabes than lupus groupies, really.”

Rule spoke. “And one practicing witch.”

“Adele doesn’t like to be called a witch. Everyone thinks that means Wiccan, and she isn’t.”

“Adele?”

“Adele Blanco.”

Lily looked at Rule. He hardly ever interjected himself into an interview. “You know her.”

“Slightly. She’s older than the others in her little group.”

Interesting. Apparently Adele wasn’t “a lovely older woman.” Lily studied Rule’s face, which gave away nothing. But that, too, was a giveaway. “You don’t like her.”

Rule shrugged. “We had a disagreement a few years ago.”

“Rule checks in on us from time to time,” Jason said. “A few years back, he decided too many of the younger lupi were hanging with Adele’s group, that we were, uh, listening to her more than was good for the clan. Rule told us to stop gathering here, and Adele took it wrong. You don’t like her?” Jason asked Rule, more curious than upset. “I didn’t think you blamed her.”

“Blame is the wrong word. I believe she enjoyed her influence over the younger people too much.”

“I don’t see it like that. Some of her ideas don’t work out, but she helps, too. She organized that protest outside Friar’s home. She teaches some of the group who have a bit of a Gift.”

Lily asked, “What’s her branch of spellcraft, if she isn’t Wiccan?”

“She calls herself an eclectic. She draws from a lot of traditions.”

“Any that involve tattoos, like the Msaidizi? The Dizzies,” she added when it was obvious the Swahili word meant nothing to him.

“Oh. I don’t think so. She isn’t African-American.”

“Not all of the Dizzies were.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t think Adele was one of them. She doesn’t have tattoos, except for a little one on her ankle, and that’s pretty standard stuff—a rose. That’s how the Dizzies worked, right? They tattooed their spells on their bodies.”

“Pretty much.” That’s how Cynna worked, anyway, though her tattoo process didn’t involve needles. “What about charms? Does she make them?”

“Sure. Doesn’t pretty much every magical practice include charms?”

“I don’t know. Hers any good?”

Jason grimaced. “I guess. I mean, I know they work sometimes, but I can’t help thinking…”

“What?”

“If Adele hadn’t let Mariah talk her into making that fertility charm, maybe Mariah wouldn’t be so damned certain that Steve fathered her baby.”