Gone Crazy Read Online Free PDF Page B

shrilled Bobbi. “You all ain’t got a lick of sense, y’know that? Why’d any damn terrorist come here? Ain’t nothin’ to blow up!”
    Not the argument I’d have used, but it did have merit, backed up by Bobbi’s mountain twang. Like Boris’s tail, a reliable sign of mood. I smiled at Vidur with a wince. “Where in the Midwest?” I asked, ignoring the squabble behind me.
    “Dayton. Went to OSU,” he said. “I’ve been working in Richmond, but I like the country.” He was actually taller than I am, for a wonder, and peered past me. “This how everyone says hello in hill-billy territory?”
    I narrowed my eyes. “You want to end up as my next homicide case,” I said coldly, “you go ahead and make the Deliverance joke.”
    He suddenly realized he was outnumbered, and stepping on toes in more than a metaphorical way. “Oh,” he said, and turned a deep red.
    “Let’s agree you’re not Taliban, and we’re not inbred idiots,” I suggested icily, “and then you can go on home.”
    He nodded. He edged closer to his car. I turned around to deal with the would-be lynch mob, raising my voice to be heard over Bobbi’s argument with Mike Spivey. “All right, settle down! Everyone just back up and settle down right now !”
    Al Rush obeyed. So did Chris Shifflett. Joe Brady shuffled a few inches out of my way. Then Delbert pushed forward like a bull in a china shop and poked two fat fingers into my shoulder. “What you gonna do about him, huh?”
    There are some things you should not do. Not to me. I put up a hand, warning him to back up, but Delbert has a special brand of stupidity that is Maury’s despair. Maury makes a good mayor; Delbert makes a good embarrassment. So he shoved me again, like we were a couple of jerks in a bar after too many beers, and he used both hands. I’m tall, but Delbert’s heavy, and I had to step back a little to catch my balance. That was all Boris wanted. He’d had a long, stressful day, and finally someone had given him his excuse.
    There was a screech of feline rage, a scream of human pain, and then a black-and-white blur attached to a plaid-shirted blur as Delbert tried to fend off the attack. Normally Boris would’ve just gone after his arm or leg, but he shinnied up Delbert with all eighteen claws out and ripping, then got himself between Delbert’s shoulder blades. Delbert had some rolls of fat convenient for Boris to plant his paws in, and he clung grimly on with his teeth sunk into a thick wedge of tissue near Delbert’s neck. Delbert kept screaming, flapping his arms as he spun.
    I tapped Mike Spivey and Al Rush. “Hold that fool still,” I said, and they grabbed Delbert’s arms gingerly as he whirled past. When he stilled, I put a hand on Boris. “Down, sweetie.”
    He released Delbert, and twisted, leaping to safety. Which was when Delbert swung at me. He connected, too. I didn’t see it coming. I was half-turning to make sure Boris was all right, and the big fat ham of a fist clocked me right in the jaw. I spun around and hit the asphalt, seeing little gold and silver showers of sparks. Training took over, and I kicked out to knock him down, but Delbert had bigger problems.
    Boris and Bobbi both went for him. She screeched louder than Boris, and when my vision cleared‌—‌Al Rush kindly helped me to my feet‌—‌Delbert had Bobbi on his back, clinging to him like he was a horse she was riding, and she was punching at his head for all she was worth. Boris was wrapped around one thick arm, his claws tearing right through Delbert’s favorite tattoo. Swear to God, if I hadn’t had such a headache, I’d have died laughing.
    Delbert went to his knees. Blood was streaming from his arm, his nose, his mouth. I was tempted to kick him in the groin for good measure, but there are rules. I peeled Bobbi off him, with help from the new veterinarian, and then had to shout twice before Boris released his grip. Both he and Bobbi stood seething.
    “Someone