Speaking of Idris, where the hell was he? I looked around, frowning. Surely he and Pellini had felt Mzatal after he’d changed. Why hadn’t they come outside? Even Sammy was mysteriously absent, and no one was peeking out the kitchen window.
Worried thoughts tumbled over each other as I hurried to the house, each theory more outlandish than the last. By the time I hit the back door I’d progressed to the certainty that Mzatal had sent a secret invisible Pulse of Dire Doom through the house and Pellini and Idris were—
—poring over maps at the kitchen table with Sammy asleep on the throw rug. Idris glanced up as I burst in.
“Hey, Kara, I brought your phone in from the truck.” Casual nonchalance, as if he didn’t give a single fuck that Mzatal had been in the backyard moments earlier.
“Yeah, Sarge called you a minute ago,” Pellini added, and then he and Idris returned their attention to the maps.
Comprehension dawned. Mzatal must have set aversions or done some manipulation on the two to make sure that he and I wouldn’t be disturbed. Relieved, I scooped up my phone and noted Cory Crawford as a missed call. “Where’s Bryce?” I asked.
“In the mobile home with Jill,” Pellini said. “Something about Christmas cookies in July. Apparently Jill bakes when she’s stressed.”
“We’re going to need a longer obstacle course at this rate,” I said with a snort then called Cory back. He answered on the first ring.
“Kara, thanks for calling back.”
“Sure thing. What’s up?”
“There are people on that spot in the parking lot again,” he said. “Three of them this time: the same redhead as before, a young Japanese guy—Tsuneo, it looks like from the pics you sent me—and the old guy.”
My mind snapped to attention. I spun back toward the others and covered the phone. “Katashi’s at the PD!” Idris let out a curse, folded the maps and grabbed his bag. Pellini pushed up from his chair then hurried to his room. “Isumo Katashi,” I said to Cory. “We’re on our way.”
“Kara, if they’re up to serious shit, why don’t I go slap cuffs on them?” Cory asked. “I can trump up a charge in a flash.”
“No! They may not look all that dangerous, but they are, especially the old guy. And they’ll have other people nearby whose job it is to make sure no one fucks with them. It won’t be as simple as slapping cuffs on.” As I spoke I grabbed an empty shopping bag and loaded it with beef jerky, snacks, and bottled water. I hadn’t eaten since a rubbery sausage biscuit in jail before my hearing.
“All right,” Cory said, but it was obvious he didn’t like sitting on his hands while people were doing weird stuff around the PD. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Keep your people clear of the area. I don’t want to scare off the baddies.”
“Got it,” he said. “See you when you get here.”
I ran to my bedroom and grabbed my gun and a box of ammo along with clean underwear, bra, shirt, and tactical pants. Arms full, I dashed out to Pellini’s truck only a few steps behind Idris. He moved toward the back as if to be nice and let me have a chance at riding shotgun, but I shook my head. “No, you take the front.”
Idris complied without argument. I dove into the back seat with my bundle of stuff. Pellini climbed in and started the engine, and I yanked off my stinky shirt and bra. Idris gave me a startled look then jerked his gaze away, ears pinking.
I shucked off my jeans and undies next. “Both of you have already seen me naked, so what difference does it make?”
Pellini glanced at me in the rear view mirror and quirked a smile. Idris stared straight ahead as I set a world record getting into my clean clothing. By the time we passed through the gate, I was dressed and seatbelted and ready to kick some Katashi butt.
While Pellini drove like a bat out of hell, I called Bryce to let him know why we’d streaked out of there. He replied with the expected, “Be careful and keep me posted,” then added, “Do you have extra ammunition?”
“I grabbed a box on my way out,” I said then glanced at Pellini. “You have spare ammo?”
“Thousand rounds of .45 under your seat,” he said, and while I goggled at that he continued, “along with two hundred fifty rounds of double-aught buckshot, a twelve gauge shotgun, five hundred rounds of nine millimeter, and a Glock 19.”
“Uh, I think we’re good,” I told Bryce.
He laughed. “So I heard. A man after my own heart!”
Pellini caught my eye in the mirror as I hung up. “When things started getting weird, I figured I needed to be prepared.”
“I am beyond impressed,” I said fervently.
He took a hard turn onto Serenity Road and gunned it. “Also have a Smith 642 and a box of .38 in the glove box.” He slid a look to Idris. “You know how to shoot a gun?”
To my surprise a flush crept up Idris’s cheeks. “I know which end to point at the bad guys,” he said, “but I’ve only shot BB guns.”
“That’s a start,” Pellini said without a hint of disdain. “I’m a certified firearms instructor. When this shit is over I’ll give you a few lessons. If you want, that is.”