Frozen Solid A Novel

56




“I’VE NEVER BEEN ON A WARRANT SERVICE BEFORE,” BARNARD said. He was sitting in the front seat of a white Ford Expedition with mirrored glass all around. Bowman was driving. A salt-and-pepper team of deputy U.S. marshals, Dolan and Taylor, sat in back. Dolan was the salt, Taylor the pepper. It was, Barnard had to admit, exciting in a way he had not felt for a very long time.

“Just so we’re clear, you wouldn’t be part of this one were it not for Dr. Bowman. No disrespect, you understand,” Taylor said. He was a big man, not as big as Bowman but thick in every aspect, from neck to calves.

“None taken. I’m grateful to be included.”

As they neared their destination, Dolan said, “We don’t expect any problem, but we always follow protocol. All you two have to remember is stay behind me and Taylor. Okay?”

Bowman and Barnard both acknowledged. Barnard said, “I don’t think that judge appreciated our visit.”

Bowman shrugged. “Comes with her job. She was the on-call.”

“Pretty young for a judge,” Dolan said.

“And pretty good-looking. I didn’t realize they came in that model,” Taylor said.

“Yeah,” Dolan said. “Even at two in the morning. Go figure.”

“They never look that good on the bench,” Taylor said.