Bobby shook his head.
“Are you still trying to suicide by cop?” I asked.
Bobby looked up then and again he was startled, or maybe it was confusion on his face. I didn’t know him well enough to be certain. “I didn’t—”
“Bullshit. I nearly died protecting you when you decided to lose control and let us shoot you.”
He l
ooked down again, but this time he murmured, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly then.”
“Are you thinking clearly now, Bobby?” Newman asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Then who is the she that you mentioned before?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Let us decide that.”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone until we’re both ready.”
“What did you promise not to tell?” Newman asked, voice soft.
“I gave my word.”
Olaf spoke from the corner. “Will you die to keep her secret?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Why did you change into your leopard form on one of the few nights that almost nothing could make you do it?” I asked.
Bobby licked his lips and swallowed. I realized that I hadn’t seen him drink or eat anything since we’d been here. I guess I’d assumed that someone else had taken care of that, but I didn’t know that for certain. I just wasn’t used to having prisoners, and dead bodies didn’t need to be fed.
Edward must have noticed, too, because he said, “Do you need a drink, pardner?”
“That would be nice. Thank you,” Bobby said.
It took some maneuvering past me, but Edward finally managed to get the door opened without hitting the table. He shut the door carefully behind him.
Bobby was way too at ease. He should have been scared, and he wasn’t. I realized that he was a lot more relaxed outside the cell. Had it been a mistake to bring him out of it? We could always take him back and do it the other way, but we had to either get him relaxed enough to let his guard down, or we had to up the emotion and scare him into talking.
Newman talked to Bobby but didn’t push too hard until Edward got back with a soda. We waited in silence while Bobby opened the can and took a few drinks. He actually laughed and said, “You’re all staring at me. I’m not doing anything that interesting.”
“In seven hours . . .” I made a big deal out of looking at my watch. “Oh, wait, in six hours and forty minutes, you’re going to die, because you won’t tell us the whole truth about that night.”
“But I’m not holding back anything that can help save me.”
“How do you know?” Edward asked.
“What do you mean?”
“How do you know that we won’t find a clue in what you’re not telling us?”
Bobby seemed to think that through as he sipped his soda.
“We’re cops, Bobby,” Newman said. “It’s our job to make sense out of stuff like this. You never know what might help us to help you.”