Chapter Ten Sam and Susie #2
“It’s what I’ve got handy, and maybe it’s a little extra protection.
There’s a lot I don’t know about this, even though I’ve been suffering it since the end of the war.
That’s another story.” I flip the figure back over and pull his wrists to the middle of the back.
I do know that the more you kill, the less human you are, no matter what you look like.
I—” My speech cuts off abruptly as silver slips around two limp wrists and searing red welts appear at once, and Etienne—Conrad, whatever he calls himself—rears to life with a roar that rattles the cups by the coffee pot.
Susie screams as the man flings me down and slashes out as if he’s in full claws and fangs. But he’s not. His fingers graze across my face like an annoying slap mixed with an eye gouge, and I frantically get low, reaching for the gun that remains where I knelt.
Susie, my little hellcat, throws the coffeepot, which is still full of scalding liquid and has enough metal and glass to make Etienne roar and paw at his head as he goes stumbling blindly, groping for an exit, or a victim.
I fire, hitting his back, and sending him forward.
Through the window. Down to the sidewalk in front of the bakery.
“Oh, Jesus,” Susie gasps, wide-eyed.
“I’ve got to get down there,” I grunt, running, gun tucked back in my pocket. “The police will be here in seconds. I’ll meet them, but I need you to do something.”
“Clean up the office?” Susie asks, a shaking hand to her mouth.
“No, call Colonel Lionel Hargreaves, War Department. Ask the operator; she’ll get him. She won’t want to, and you’re going to get handed off to his secretary. Tell her Captain Silverman needs a favor.”
“You can’t go to jail,” she whispers, clutching my arm.
I kiss her hard and fast. “No. I can’t. So if this blows up, I’m bowing out.
It’s the only way to keep people safe. Most people can’t see what’s right in front of them, sweetheart, not unless they’re shocked into it.
Finding a wolf in a cell will shock the entire penal system, and God knows what that would do.
Just remember, I love you, and I’m always yours. ”
And then I run.
My hand shakes as I hold the phone. I don’t even recognize the voice that’s asking for Colonel Lionel Hargreaves, but it’s my own.
We need a new coffee pot. New typewriter.
There’s glass everywhere.
Need a new window.
Pine Ridge has police? I suppose they must. At least one officer. I peer out the broken window. Sam is beside the body, cradling it, speaking urgently.
Maybe he’s still alive!
“Captain Sam Silverman needs a favor,” I gasp out when a voice on the phone finally breaks through the haze I’m living in.
The next voice on the phone is firm and deep, commanding. “Someone is dead. You can’t let Sam go to jail,” I blurt. “It was self-defense, and there is so much more, but Sam knows, not me.”
“Who is this?” Hargreaves demands.
“His wife,” I whisper, hand over my heart.
It’s true. This is why I’ve known from the beginning.
Why I fell so quickly. I am Sam’s Girl Friday, his secretary, his sweetheart—and his mate.
For life. “Please hurry. You need to call the police at Pine Ridge, tell them it’s a government matter,” I hiss.
There’s silence, and then, “It’ll be handled. Have Sam call me.”
I slam down the phone and run, breaking a heel in the process, but not caring.
I probably look a fool and a wreck, limping at top speeds and shoving my way through the small knot of people now gathered around Sam and Etienne, but I get through, and throw myself down beside him, hatless, gloveless, and my shoes flopping off. “Oh, Sam,” I whisper.
“Susan, this is Etienne Girarde. A man who loved his father very much,” Sam whispers, his smaller, still muscular form supporting a blood-covered body.
“He’s alive.”
“Not for much longer. I told him he needs to let the wolf go. Needs to seek forgiveness now, before it’s too late. The crimes he committed weren’t all of his doing. The wolf infects. A clean soul is the only cure.”
“No one... Could... Forgive this,” Etienne whispers, blood flowing down his chin.
Someone behind me faints.
“I could,” I say swiftly, looking at him, then at Sam. “Not every wolf is bad. Some are only wounded.” I reach out and pull a clean handkerchief from my skirt pocket, patting away the blood.
“That’s right. Listen to that angel, buddy. Some are only wounded.”
“Tell my mother I should have written more.” Then, he lapses into French.
To my surprise, although perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me at all, Sam answers back.
“What did he say?”
“He says to tell her he loves her, and he is finally going to go see his father where no one can take him away.” Sam murmurs, voice thick, eyes blinking hard.
With a screech, an ancient black police car arrives, and a stunned-looking man hops out. “What happened?” he demands.
“Enemy agent, sir. Accosted my secretary. She fought like a wildcat, threw the coffee pot at him. He rounded on me, and I went for my gun. He went through the window, officer.”
“Oh, for corn’s sake. That’s going to be a lot of paperwork. A lot of people. The coroner for Broome County’ll have to come out. I hate that guy. He’s such a gloomy guts.”
“He might not have to do too much, officer,” I pipe up. “This is a Washington matter.” I rise and whisper, as if I’ve got a dire secret. “This is hush-hush. The War Department is involved.”
I might as well have thrown hot coffee on him, too. The poor man jumps, blusters, and looks at Sam with an open mouth.
“Clear the area, officer. I’ll make the necessary calls.
Just keep everyone back,” Sam says, gently putting Etienne’s body into a restful position, a look of such pain on his face.
“He wasn’t a bad kid, officer. Just... Infected by the wrong crowd.
Anger will eat a man alive. Just like a ravenous wolf. ”
The officer scratches his head. “I thought that was deception?”
Sam looks at me. “Secrets will do that, too.”
“Good thing we don’t have any anymore,” I murmur, kissing his red, scratched cheek.