"You're not suggesting he jump bail, are you, Officer?"
"His family has been here almost from the first night he was taken into custody. Before that, it was the scientists that he's been working with. A lot of nice, upstanding citizens standing around for witnesses. But the nice upstanding citizens won't be here forever."
Maiden and I looked at each other. I stood there for a minute, wondering if he'd stop hinting and just tell me what the hell was going on. He didn't.
I nodded at him. "Thanks, Maiden."
"Don't thank me," he said. He locked the door behind us.
My hand wasn't on the butt of the Browning, but it was sort of close to it. It'd be silly to draw the gun on a nice August morning in a town with a population lower than most college dorms.
"What was that all about?" Jason asked.
"If we don't get Richard out, he's going to get hurt. The only reason he hasn't been yet is that there have been too many witnesses. Too many people to ask questions."
"If the cops are in on it," Jason said, "why would Maiden warn us?"
"He's not happy about being in on it, maybe. Oh, hell, I don't know. But it means that someone wanted Richard in jail for a reason."
A pickup truck pulled across the street in front of the little grey house that Shang-Da was camped out in. Four men jumped out of the back. There was at least one more in the cab. He slid out of sight, and they formed a semicircle at the base of the porch. One of them had a baseball bat.
"Well, well," Jason said. "You think if we bang on the doors and yell for police help, we'll get it?"
I shook my head. "Maiden did help us. He warned us."
"I'm all warm and cozy with the effort," Jason said.
"Yeah," I said. I started walking across the street. Jason followed a couple of steps behind. I was thinking as hard as I could. I had a gun and they might not.
But if I killed somebody, I'd be bunking with Richard. Myerton's legal system didn't seem to take to well to strangers.
Shang-Da stood on the porch, looking down at the men. He'd taken off the billed cap. His black hair was cut very short on the sides and longer on top. The hair was shiny with gel but squashed flat from the cap. He stood balanced on his bare feet, long arms loose at his sides. He wasn't in a fighting stance yet, but I knew the signs.
His eyes flicked to us, and I knew he'd seen us. The thugs hadn't yet. Amateur thugs. Didn't mean they weren't dangerous, but it meant you might be able to bluff them. Professional muscle tended to call a bluff.
A small, elderly woman came through the screen door to stand next to Shang-Da. She leaned heavily on a cane, her back bowed. Her grey and white hair was cut very short and permed in one of those tight hairdos that elderly women seem so fond of. She wore an apron over a pink housedress. Her knee-high hose were rolled down over fuzzy slippers. Glasses perched on a small nose.
She shook a bony fist at the men. "You boys get off my property."
The man with the baseball bat said, "Now, Millie, this has got nothing to do with you."
"This is my grandson you're threatening," she said.
"He ain't her grandson," another man said. He was wearing a faded flannel shirt open like a jacket.
"Are you calling me a liar, Mel Cooper?" the woman asked.
"I didn't say that," Mel said.
If we'd been someplace more private, I'd have just wounded one of them. It would have gotten their attention and called the fight off. But I'd have bet almost any amount of money that if I shot one of them, the mysterious sheriff would ride to their rescue. Maybe the plan was to get more of us in jail. I was too new on the scene to even make an educated guess.
Jason and I walked up onto the grass. Mel was the closest to us. He turned, showing a stained undershirt and a beer gut beneath the flannel shirt. Ooh, charming.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked.
"Well, aren't you just Mr. Smooth."
He took a menacing step towards me. I smiled at him. He frowned at me. "Answer the fucking question, girlie. Who are you?"
"Doesn't matter who she is," the one with the baseball bat said. "This isn't any of her business. Leave it alone, or you'll get what he's going to get." He motioned with his head at Shang-Da.
"I get to the beat the crap out of you, too?" I said. "Oh, goody."
Baseball Bat frowned at me, too. I had two of them puzzled. Confusion to my enemies.
The woman shook a bony fist at them again. "You get off my property, or I will call Sheriff Wilkes."
One of the men laughed, and another said, "Wilkes will be along. When we're finished."
Baseball Bat said, "Come down off that porch, boy, or we're coming up after you."
He was ignoring me. He was ignoring Jason. They weren't just amateur muscle. They were stupid amateur muscle.
Shang-Da's voice was surprisingly deep, very calm. There was no fear in it -- big surprise -- but there was an undercurrent of eagerness, as if under that calmness he was itching to hurt them. "If I come down off this porch, you will not enjoy it."
The man with the baseball bat wheeled his weapon of choice in a quick, professional circle. He used it like he knew how. Maybe he'd played ball in high school. "Oh, I'll enjoy it, China boy."
"China boy," Jason said. I didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling.
"Not very original is it?" I commented.
"Nope."
Mel turned towards us, and another man moved with him. "Are you making fun of us?"
I nodded. "Oh, yeah."
"You think I won't hit you because you're a girl?" Mel asked.
It was tempting to say, "No, I think you won't hit me because I have a gun," but I didn't say it. Once you pull a gun in a fight, you've pushed the violence level to a height where death is a very real possibility. I didn't want anyone dead with the cops waiting to ride down and sweep us up. Didn't want to go to jail. I have a black belt in judo. But Mel's companion was almost as big as Officer Maiden, and not half as pretty. They both outweighed me and Jason by a hundred pounds apiece, or more. They'd been big most of their lives. They thought it made them tough. Up until this moment, it probably had. In fact, it still might. I wasn't going to stand there and trade blows with them. I'd loose. Whatever I was going to do had to be quick and take my opponent out immediately. Anything less, and I stood a very good chance of getting seriously hurt.
I'd bet on me against any bad guy my size. Trouble was, as usual, none of the bad guys were my size. There was a tightness in my gut, a nervous tremble. I realized with something close to shock that I was more afraid right now than I had been with Jamil in the truck. This wasn't a dominance game with rules. No one was going to say uncle when someone was bleeding. Scared? Who, me? But it had been a long time since I'd stood up to the bad guys without pulling a weapon. Was I becoming too dependent on hardware? Maybe.
Jason and I moved back, sliding a little away from each other. You need room to fight. The thought occurred that I'd never really seen Jason fight. He could have thrown the pickup truck they came in across the street, but I didn't know if he knew how to fight. If you throw human beings around like toys, people can get badly hurt. I didn't want Jason in jail, either.
"Don't kill anyone," I said.
Jason smiled, but it was just a baring of teeth. "Gee, you're no fun." That first prickle of energy that said shapeshifter breathed along my body.
Mel had been moving forward in a flat-footed, untrained movement. No martial arts, no boxing, just big. The other guy was in a stance. He knew what he was doing. Jason could heal a broken jaw in less than a day; I couldn't. I wanted Mel. But he'd stopped moving forward. There were goose bumps on his hairy arms. "What the hell was that?"