Lia’s handcuffs came off less than fifteen minutes later, and the young officer’s attitude had changed markedly by the time they did.
“Guess the Captain thinks pretty highly of you, Miss Brujachica,” he said, using the Spanish description like a surname. “Says you’ve consulted on SWAT operations before?”
“Remote viewing, yeah,” Lia said. “Looking into places people needed to go. I’ve also helped on a forensic case or two.”
“Well,” the young cop said, “the Cap pulled me and three other units off our assignments and says we’re to help you. Blackdog guys all. So it looks like you’re getting a police escort. I’m Ben, by the way, Ben Leonard.”
“Lia Flores.” She shook his proffered hand and considered him, feeling curious. “So, Ben Leonard, were you really there?” she asked. “The Night of the Blackdogs? I’ve heard the stories for years.”
Ben Leonard nodded. “A thousand black ghost dogs,” he said, “all barking in unison, all at once, witnessed by dozens of cops from a dozen divisions, warning us off from a building that collapsed not three hours after. It was like nothing I ever knew could be. Changed me, frankly. Changed every guy who saw it. Showed us all a wider world.”
“Sure you didn’t eat some funny mushrooms earlier that evening?” Lia kidded.
“No, I didn’t,” Ben said, “and why does everyone I ever tell ask me that? No, I was sober and lucid and in my right mind. We all were.” He looked Lia over in his turn, as curious about her as she was about him. “So,” he said. “You’re, like, an ‘independent operator’?”
Lia nodded.
“More of you on the street than there used to be,” Ben said thoughtfully, re-appraising her. “Guess I never met an actual witch before, though. A real one who can do things, I mean. Most of the ones I’ve run across were sort of pretending.”
“No warts, no broom, no pointy hat,” Lia said. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”
Ben smiled. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
Three LAPD cruisers pulled around the corner and into the Home Depot parking lot, and Ben raised a hand to their drivers in greeting. Then he turned back to Lia.
“Your motorcade awaits,” he said. “Let’s leave that stolen thing for somebody else to deal with. You can ride in one of the cruisers… or I guess you can ride with me. If you like. I don’t think the Captain expects normal regulations to apply.”
Lia thought about it, then broke into a grin.
She was still grinning some minutes later, gleefully, under a helmet and perched on the back of Ben’s motorcycle while it and the three cruisers flew up Vineland at an insane rate of speed, flashing lights, blaring sirens, and parting traffic like a blade.