Kitty Takes a Holiday

Another car was parked on the shoulder, right behind mine. I recognized it; I'd seen it all too often the last week or so. Sheriff Marks's patrol car. His arms crossed, Marks leaned on the hood of his car, staring down Ben, who leaned on the back of mine, staring back.

"Who's that?" Tony asked as we made our way over the barbed-wire fence. Marks turned to watch our progress, his expression even more hooded and suspicious than ever.

"Sheriff Avery Marks. The local stalwart defender of truth, justice, and the American way."

"Hm, one of those."

"Norville," Marks called. He'd dropped the "Ms." I knew I was in trouble now. "May I ask what you're doing trespass­ing on Len Ford's land? Trying to clean up a little mess?"

I couldn't quite think of a response that wouldn't get me arrested on the spot. If he'd been five minutes later he wouldn't have seen us, and it wouldn't have been an issue. His timing was impeccable.

A bit too impeccable. "Have you been following me?" I said.

I didn't think it possible, but his frown deepened. "I have the right to keep a suspect under surveillance."

Ben straightened, pushing off from the car. "Your 'sur­veillance' is coming awfully close to harassment, Sheriff."

"You going to sue me?"

Ben only raised his brow. Marks didn't recognize the try me look, but I did.

Oh, this was going to get ugly.

Tony butted in, shouldering past me and in front of Marks like he really was breaking up a fight. "Hello, Sheriff Marks? I'm Tony Rivera. I'm afraid this is my fault, I asked Kitty to show me around. She said some weird stuff's been happening and I wanted to check it out."

He held out his hand, an obvious peacemaking gesture, but Marks took his time reaching out to it. Finally, though, they clasped hands. They held on for a long moment, locked in one of those macho who's going to wince first gripping matches.

Finally, they let go. Tony's face had gone fu

He looked at me. "He's the one. One of them, anyway."

"One of them, what?" I said, perplexed, at nearly the same time Marks said, "One of who?"

Then my eyes widened as I realized what Tony was talking about: what he'd come here to look for, the curse, my house—Marks was the one.

"You?" I drew the word out into an accusation and glared at Marks. He didn't seem like the type to hang ski

"What the hell are you people talking about?"

Tony said, "Anyone ever tell you that when you lay a curse, you better do it right or it's going to come back and smack you?"

If Tony was wrong and Marks didn't have anything to do with it, I'd have expected denials. I'd have expected more of the sheriff's blowhard posturing, maybe even threats. Instead, the fury left him for a moment, leaving his face slack and disbelieving.

His protest was too little, too late. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said in a low voice.

Tony ignored him, and glanced between Ben and me. "Remember what I said about spirits having fingerprints? Everybody's soul has its own little flavor. It follows them around, touches everything they do. This guy's stamp is all over your place."

"I called him out there a couple of times, to check things out. That could be why," I said.

"No. Too strong for that," Tony said. "This has malice in it."

Marks seemed to wake out of a daze. His defenses slammed into place, and the look of puckered rage returned. "You're accusing me of being the one who pi

I said, "But you believe I'm a werewolf—a monster that could do something like slaughter a herd of cattle. You can't have it both ways, Sheriff. Believe one and not the other." I'd learned that quickly enough.

"Okay, I won't say I don't believe it. Somebody's done something out at your place, I won't deny that. But I wouldn't know the first thing about cursing someone."

"Maybe you were just following directions," Tony said.

Again, that blank look while he organized his defense. "That doesn't even make sense."

I said, "Sheriff, you don't like me. You've made no secret of that. You don't like what I am, you don't like that I'm in your town. Maybe you're not the only one. And maybe you didn't do it, but I'm betting you backed who­ever did."

The three of us—Tony, Ben, and me—surrounded him, pi

I said, "I haven't hurt anyone. I didn't kill those cattle. I don't deserve what's been done to me, and I just want it to stop. That's all."

His lips pursed, his expression hardening. We weren't going to get anything out of him. In his mind, he'd drawn some kind of line in the dirt. I stood on one side, he stood on the other, and because of that we'd never come to an understanding. I might as well pack my bags and leave.

Tony reached out to him. He moved quickly. Marks and I held each other's gazes so strongly I didn't even notice it until Tony held Marks's collar. Marks only had time to flinch before Tony had pulled out a pendant on a hemp cord that had been tucked under the sheriff's shirt.

Tony held the pendant flat in his hand, displaying it: a flint arrowhead of gray stone, tied to the cord.

"Zuni charm," Tony said. "Defense against werewolves. He knows all about this magic."

Was that why I wanted to growl at Marks every time I saw him?

Marks snatched the arrowhead away from Tony, clos­ing his hand around it. He took a step back, bumping against the hood of his car. His armor had slipped; now, he seemed uncertain.

"It wasn't my idea," he said finally.

The air seemed to lighten around us. At last, he'd said something that sounded like truth.

"Whose was it? I'm not out for revenge, Marks. I just want to know why."

"We wanted you to leave. We're a quiet community. We didn't want any trouble."

"I wasn't going to bring any trouble! I just wanted to be left alone."

"But you brought trouble. That's trouble." He pointed out to the backhoe across the pasture.

I shouted. I didn't mean to. It just came out. "You pi

"Kitty, maybe a little more calm," Ben said softly. I must have been really worked up if Ben was having to settle me down. My whole back and shoulders felt tight as springs.

When Marks spoke, his voice had changed. He sounded suddenly tired, defeated. "We—we knew it wasn't working right. You should have just left. Quietly, without a word. We wanted it to be quiet."

"Well, you screwed up big time, didn't you?" I said.

"Can you blame us for trying?" he said roughly.

"Uh, yeah. Hello, I am blaming you."

"We all know what you are! A—a monster! We don't want that in our town! Nobody would!"

"You know, I don't think I'm the monster here, really."

Thankfully, Tony interceded. "Sheriff, I think I can help clean this all up. We can remove the curse, and remove the consequences of it." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the site of the slaughter. "But the person who pla