We were back on the street in five minutes, and fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the Longtooths’ driveway. They had a little house on a rundown street in the right neighborhood. Even though the house looked old, they had kept it up and it was painted sage green with brown trim. The yard was neatly trimmed, though small, and the fence was weathered but it was standing and looked like it would hold until the next big windstorm.
I stared at the door. “Are they home?”
“Herne said that Dana is. She gave him permission to send us over.” He climbed out of the truck and, as I got out, beeped the fob to lock the doors. “You ready for this?”
“You mean, am I ready to face a parent who recently lost her little girl to a killer? No, but I don’t think we have much choice.” I took the lead, striding over the cracked sidewalk to the door. Tufts of grass poked through the broken concrete, though along the sides of the walk, rows of hearty primroses lined the path.
As we came to the porch, I darted up the steps. People responded quicker to me than to Viktor. It was purely a matter of threat—Viktor was huge and half-ogre, and even though he was handsome, he looked like some organized-crime thug. I, on the other hand, was five-six, sturdy but without bulging muscles, and I looked like the Fae girl next door. Kind of.
The woman who answered my knock was shorter than I was, and plumper, and she was wearing a circle skirt and a form-fitting sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and though she looked perfectly made up, there was an aura of sadness about her that said to me it was a façade, probably to keep her going.
“Hi, are you Dana Longtooth?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, are you from the Wild Hunt?”
“Yes, we are.” I pulled out my badge and Viktor did the same. She let us in, leading us into the living room.
The house was small, but tidy. The living room contained a sofa, a rocking chair, a television on an entertainment cabinet, and a bookshelf. It led into an equally small dining room, with a wooden table and four chairs, and what looked like an antique sideboard. From the dining room we could see the kitchen. Parallel to the kitchen, from where the dining room and living room merged, was a hallway leading back to three more doors. I guessed two bedrooms and a bath.
“Please, sit down.” She led us to the table. “I see you have coffee. Let me get mine, and we can talk.” Her voice was soft, as though sadness had put her on a permanent mute button.
Viktor and I took our seats and waited until she returned with her coffee. As she settled into a chair, opposite me, she let out a long sigh and shook her head.
“All right. Please, go ahead and ask me whatever you like.” Everything about Dana seemed resigned to sadness. Her eyes were bleak, and it was hard to look at her without falling into her pain.
“I know you’ve already answered these questions for the police, but can you tell us where Cassie was abducted?” I was glancing through the report of what the police had asked her.
“From the Aurora Street Mall. We were shopping for a birthday present for my wife—for Cassie’s birthmother. We used a donor to get pregnant, and Hadley was in better shape to conceive than me. So I took Cassie to the mall to buy a birthday gift.”
“What time of day was it?”
Dana shrugged. “Right after lunch time. The mall was crowded. We visited several stores and then Cassie said she was hungry, so we stopped at a hot dog stand and bought hot dogs and some orange juice. We sat down to wait for them at one of the tables in the food court. When our order was up, I told Cassie to wait for me.”
“So she was alone at the table?” I tried to put as little judgment in my voice as possible. We all made split-second decisions that turned out to have horrible consequences, but at the moment, seemed the right choice.
She started to cry. “The counter was only about ten feet away. I dashed over to pick up our dogs and juice. The cashier asked me a question—I think it was about the baseball game coming up, because I was wearing a Mariners T-shirt, but it only took a second to answer her. When I returned to the table, Cassie was gone.”
Viktor glanced at me, but I gave him a quick shake of the head and let her sit for a moment. She looked on the verge of tears and I didn’t want to push her over the edge if I could help it. After a moment, Dana pulled herself together.
“Dana, did anybody at the mall stand out to you? Did you notice anybody following you, or showing up in the same stores? Anybody at all?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “It’s a mall. When you go in, you’re focused on getting your errands done, you know? And because Cassie was with me, I was paying attention to her.” She paused, then bleakly said, “Hadley blames me. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel it. She blames me every day. Every time she has to go to a meeting, she blames me.”
“Meeting?” I asked, looking up from my notes.
“AlkaNon. She’s been a member for years, but she had been thinking she might be able to quit. I didn’t think it was a wise idea—those meetings were her lifeline when she first started going. I guess they’re her lifeline again, now. She’s been hit really hard with the cravings since we lost our daughter.” Dana leaned back in her chair, biting her lip. “If I could change the past, if I could give my life instead of Cassie’s, I would do it in an instant. If only I hadn’t left her at the table…”
Viktor cleared his throat. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ll tell you one thing. If somebody was determined to take your daughter, they’d find a way. There are always opportunities, and if it wasn’t at the mall, then it would be somewhere else.”
I thought for a moment. AlkaNon had reared its head again, and I had a tingle in my spine that told me I was onto something.
“You said that Hadley thought she might be able to quit going to the meetings?”
She nodded. “Yes. Why?”
“Had she stopped? Or was she still going when Cassie vanished?”
“No, she was still going. She was just thinking about stopping. Why?”
I tried to search for a way to explain why I was interested. “Did she ever have any friends come over? Friends from the group?”
Dana shook her head. “No, that’s one thing we agreed on. No potential drama in the house—and unfortunately, drama follows alcoholics. Hadley managed to wean herself away from her family drama that had pushed her into drinking in the first place. We wanted to keep that sort of stress out of our relationship.”
“What kind of family drama?” I asked.
“Oh, you know, some shifter clans really don’t appreciate the queer community, and her father and two of her aunts disapprove of the fact that she’s gay. Needless to say, we don’t spend the holidays with them.” Dana’s frown broke and tears filled her eyes. “Now, they’re blaming our lifestyle for Cassie’s death. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”
“Before we leave, can you tell me which meetings Hadley goes to? Which branch?”
Dana gave me an address and after writing it down, I thanked her, and motioned to Viktor. We weren’t going to get much else from her, and she was in a rough emotional patch.
“That was quick,” Viktor said as we returned to the truck.
“I have an idea, but it’s just starting to pull together. We’ll need to talk to the other two families first. For now, let’s get back to the office.”
Back at the office, Yutani was waiting with news of his own.
“I found the list of passwords on Jasper’s computer. I can access his email and we can find out just what’s gone on since late July.” He had brought his laptop into the break room and was furiously tapping away.
I told Herne what we had learned. “I want to ask the other parents if one of them attends AlkaNon meetings. If that’s where the unsub is finding them, then we have a place to start looking.”
“That’s a good catch,” Herne said. “If it checks out, then we can at least come up with some plan to shadow their meetings. The question is, though, what if
all of the parents go to different meetings?”
“The meetings insist on privacy for the members, and they work on a first-name basis. It would be too noticeable if several members in one group suddenly had a child go missing and/or turn up dead. Suppose the kidnapper goes to different meetings? Maybe sets up a layer of trust with a parent? Then after kidnapping the child, the unsub quietly drops out of that particular group? The parents would be in mourning. Nobody else would really notice.” I turned to Yutani. “Can you tell me how many AlkaNon meetings there are in the Seattle area?”
He paused what he was doing, brought up another screen, and went to town. A moment later, he said, “There are at least one hundred and fifty different groups. There are specialized groups for shifters, Fae, humans, multi-racial groups, atheist groups, groups of just about every faith, groups for women only, men only, teenagers, couples-groups… You name your choice, the group probably exists.”
“See? That’s a massive hunting ground. And no last names, no personal information except what the member chooses to provide. No way to verify anything. No rolls, no logs. It’s perfect for a predator.” I stared at the list that Yutani showed us. “We have a serious problem on our hands, if what I suspect is true.”
“I almost hope you’re wrong,” Herne said. “All right. Onto the Tuathan Brotherhood. You said you have Jasper’s passwords?” He turned to Yutani.
“Roger that. I’m running his email through a program I wrote to scan for keywords. There are thousands of emails here—the dude was social, that much I’ll say for him.” He paused, then glanced up. “I’ve got Penny’s info. Penny Sanders, human, lives over on the Eastside. I found their wedding registry. They were supposed to be married in December.”
“So neither one bothered to cancel the registry. She was probably too heartbroken, and he probably didn’t care by then.” I jotted her name down. “Address and phone number?”
“The Juanita Bay Towers, Unit 5-E. Phone is 425-555-0110.” He glanced at Herne. “Who should contact her?”
“Ember,” Herne said. He glanced at me. “Please give her a call and ask her when she’s available. Give her the option of coming into the office, or we can meet at her place if she wants.”
“What if she doesn’t know about what Elrich did? It seems unlikely but regardless of the internet, news doesn’t always get around.” I was dreading having to explain to the woman that her ex-fiancé had mowed down a group of people, including kids.
“I think you can figure out how to break it to her.” Herne shook his head. “It’s not ideal, but breaking bad news is something that everyone in authority has to do at some time. You might as well get used to it.”
“Gee, thanks.” Rolling my eyes, I stepped out of the break room as they continued to discuss the cases. As I punched in Penny’s number, I ran over what to say, praying she was already aware of the situation.
A moment later, she answered the phone. “Hello?” She sounded wary.
“Penny Sanders?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“My name is Ember Kearney and I’m with the—”
“No, not another reporter! Please leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Wait, I’m not a reporter!” I tried to catch her before she hung up. At first, I thought I was too late, but then I heard her clear her throat.
“Who are you, then? And if you are a reporter, I swear I’ll hang up on you so fast you won’t be able to breathe.”
I paused, then said, “My name is Ember and I’m with the Wild Hunt Agency. We’re investigating Jasper Elrich’s background by order of the mayor, and we need to ask you some questions about him.”
She paused, then said, “Are you with the cops?”
“We’re an enforcement agency, yes. We work with the police. We’re what’s known as a divine agency.” I waited for her to process the information.
“Oh, yeah, the cops said someone would be in touch to interview me, and to not leave town until then.” She hesitated, then said, “Where should I meet you?”
I wondered how the cops had found out about her. “We can either come to your place, or you can come to our office. We’re in downtown Seattle on First Street.”
After yet another moment, she answered. “I’ll come down. Is tomorrow afternoon at three all right?”
“That should be fine. Just let me give you our address.” After she jotted it down, I added, “I want you to understand that we really do need to talk to you. If you skip the appointment, we’ll have to come to you.” Reluctant witnesses had skipped their appointments more than one time. I’d learned the hard way.
“I’ll be there.” She hung up abruptly.
I stared at my phone for a moment. I didn’t blame her for being reluctant to talk to us. First, Elrich had broken her heart, and now she had to subject herself to being grilled. It couldn’t feel good.
By the time the day was over, all I wanted to do was stretch out, relax, and have a glass of wine. I wasn’t a big drinker, but now and then, it was the easiest way to get through an evening when we were in the middle of a rough case. And right now, both the Tuathan Brotherhood attacks and Eleanor’s case were what I considered emotionally draining cases.
Angel headed home to meet Rafé for her date, while I followed Herne to his house. By the time I got there, I had managed to shake off most of my frustration by singing at the top of my lungs with the car radio.
Herne leaned against his SUV, waiting as I pulled into the driveway behind him. He was wearing black jeans with a dark gray top under his leather jacket. His hair was loose, hanging down around his shoulders, and the scruff he called a beard was just thick enough to give him that five-o’clock shadow look. His face lit up as I stepped out of my Subaru Outback. I walked up to him and he draped his arm around my shoulders as he led me into the house.
Herne lived in a gorgeous house bordering Carkeek Park. It was modern in every way, with a giant great room that looked out onto the park through floor to ceiling windows. The kitchen was a gourmet’s delight, and more than once, Angel had tagged along to make dinner. She loved to cook, and what we had now at our house was a definite upgrade compared to what my condo had been, but it couldn’t hold a candle to Herne’s kitchen.
“Rough week, huh?”
“Yeah, and it’s only Tuesday.” I let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to talk about work, if you don’t mind. I just need to let it go. The picture of that little girl haunts me, and talking to Dana today was even worse. No parent should have to bury their child, Herne.”
“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Come on, let’s make dinner and leave work back at the office, where it belongs.” He unlocked the door and opened it, letting me in first. The alarm beeped and I tapped in the code. Herne had given me both a key and the code well over a month ago, and I was careful not to abuse the trust.
As I set my purse on the kitchen table, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. It was my favorite. Wild Moon mead was made by a group of Dark Fae who followed Mielikki, a goddess of woodland, the very same goddess to whom Herne’s cousin Kipa had made himself persona non grata. The mead was only sold in specialty markets. The wine was rich and thick, and surprisingly tart. It was actually a meglethin, mixed with raspberry, lemon, and cinnamon. Herne handed me the goblet as I sat on one of the kitchen stools by the island, watching him.
“Oh, this is just what I needed,” I said, my voice growing husky as I watched him. “I need something else, if you’re up to it,” I added.
Herne turned around, his eyes lighting up. “You know I never stop thinking about you. About your lips, your eyes, your body, the feel of your skin under my fingers.” He set his goblet down and shrugged out of his jacket. “Bedroom. Now.”
I drained the mead, swallowing it in one gulp. Then, wiping my lips on my sleeve, I set the goblet down, holding his gaze.
“Only if you can catch me.”
I slipped off the stool an
d darted down the hall. Instantly, Herne was after me, dropping his jacket on the floor. He let out a hoarse laugh as I dashed into his bedroom. I spun around as he paused at the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes glowing.
“Undress. Now.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. His chest glistened, from his pecs down to the V that led beneath his jeans. I caught my breath. He was gorgeous, and the wild light in his eyes was for me. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, a cunning smile on his face.
I held my ground, my own passion fueled by the mead. I was hungry for him. Riding a god was a high that nothing else could touch, and I had come to crave his touch, his lips, the heat of his body against mine.
“Oh, you beautiful minx, come here,” Herne whispered, holding out his hands.
I shivered, my own passion fueled by the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes. I slid my top over my head and dropped it on the floor, then inched my jeans down my thighs, kicking them off. As I moved toward him, he caught me in his arms and pulled me to him.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered.
I stared into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I just want to know. Do you trust me? You’ve spent your whole life not trusting people, looking over your shoulder even if you didn’t realize it. I want you to feel safe with me. I want you to trust me that I’m not going to hurt you.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “You say you love me, and I believe you, but do you trust me?”
“I trust you as much as I can.”
“Do you trust me as much as you trust Angel?” His question was simple, he wasn’t demanding, he just wanted to know.
I thought about it, leaning against him, my breasts pressed against the warmth of his chest. Did I trust Herne as much as I trusted Angel? I knew the answer to that even before I spoke.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, but I’ve known Angel all my life. I’ve known you six months. I love you, Herne, I do, but it takes me time.” I gazed into his eyes, hoping I hadn’t hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him.
The Hallowed Hunt: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 5 Page 8