by Tl Reeve
Rapier could still hear the slight wobble of fear in her voice. “You okay, kitten?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice.
“Getting there.”
Rapier didn’t even turn around when the bell rang above the front door. Instinctively he knew it was Kalkin. “She better now?” Worry was etched on the other Alpha’s face, along with anger swirling in his cold, icy gaze.
“You know, I’m standing right here,” Jasmine retorted, uncaring that Kalkin had asked him and not her.
“Gave her some of my special tea, Kalkin,” Mrs. Martin announced.
Kalkin smiled. “Explains why she’s right as rain now.”
Jasmine polished off the cookies and returned the teacup to Mrs. Martin. She took a deep breath before straightening her shoulders and addressing Kalkin. “When we were out exploring the art show, there was a woman—older, sitting outside knitting in front of one of the older shops on Main St. The girls were curious about what she was doing.” Frown lines formed between her brows. “She said it would be a pity if something should happen to the girls. I thought I heard her wrong, and asked her what she said, and she changed it. I know it was a threat. I knew something was off with her, I just couldn’t place it, and she stared at Bell like if given half the chance, she’d eat her. I realize how weird it sounds, but you’d have had to have been there, Kalkin. I should have turned around when I had an uneasy feeling about her. I never disregard my instincts. I have no other excuse today other than I wanted to be outside with the girls and feel...normal.” She blew out a breath. “Anyway, after we left is when I saw the truck.”
“Describe her,” Kalkin demanded.
Jasmine did, and the Sheriff wrote every detail down in a little notepad he had removed from his shirt pocket. “Did you she give you her name?”
His mate shook her head. “I didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer it up.”
Of course, it wouldn’t have been that easy. “Damn it.”
Mrs. Martin had remained relatively quiet while Jasmine spoke. “Raymond Quincy removed almost every single pack elder and often banishes older members. Very few are loyal to him.”
Jesus, this fucking guy. Eliminating both the young and old members, it amazed him how the Quincy Pack was as big as it was.
“And very few females,” Kalkin added.
“They no longer hold a purpose,” Mrs. Martin stated.
“You have an idea who this could be, Mrs. Martin?” Kalkin posed the question.
“When my Russell was alive, I had the displeasure of meeting two of Raymond Quincy’s aunts. One has since died. I’m betting the woman Jasmine spoke to was Lena Quincy. She, like her older sister, thought the sun shined out of Raymond’s ass.”
Rapier snorted. Rarely did one hear Mrs. Martin curse.
“Royce had your truck towed to our impound lot. I’m goin’ to have our crime lab pull samples of the paint to find out the manufacturer and color. Doubt it was bought in the county, but if it was, I’ll find whoever bought it.”
“We going to play this game, Kal?” Rapier demanded. “We both know it reeks of Quincy.”
“Sure does. He’s fuckin’ with us. Taunting us that he’s escaped.”
“I for one am getting sick and tired of his bullshit, Kal,” Jasmine pipped up. “It’s exhausting.”
Kalkin snorted in agreement. “You and me both. He’s like evil incarnate, always popping up when you least expect him to,” Kalkin said, his tone dry and slightly teasing.
Jasmine chuckled. “Oh my gosh.” She put her hand over her chest. “Did you just try to be funny?”
Kalkin shrugged. “Believe it or not, I do have a sense of humor.”
Rapier snorted.
He had a sense of humor. Kalkin had a stick up his ass.
“Keep telling yourself that, dear,” Mrs. Martin said drolly while affectionately patting Kalkin on his massive arm. “Eventually you’ll believe it.”
Oh…burn.
Rapier chuckled under his breath. He didn’t miss the irritated look which passed over the wolf Alpha’s face. Like most Alphas, Kalkin was unpredictable, but they all knew the other man would never disrespect Mrs. Martin.
“I want Jasmine to file a report,” Rapier announced.
Kalkin rolled his eyes. “What the hell do you think we’ve been doing here, Rapier.”
“Just makin’ sure we’re all on the same page.”
“Wait…where are the girls?” Jasmine’s gaze filled with worry.
If he hadn’t realized it before, he did now how his mate must’ve been in a complete panic to not have heard Kalkin announce Jace had their girls. Jasmine had been so strong, for so long, by herself. Dependent on her own wits and skills to protect two little kids with the help of her sister.
Sure, he could easily blame Quincy for this, but the reality was he’d done this to her when he made the decision to have her run with their cubs. It had been his own fears and his inability to protect his mate and their cubs that she carried. Now, however, was not the time to get all maudlin with this bullshit. He needed to be strong to protect them. And he would, no matter the cost.
“Body and mind can only take so much. Seen it happen before.” Kalkin frowned. “Jace took them to my house. They’ll be safe there.”
Jasmine sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
“We’re going to get him, Rapier,” Kalkin assured him, squeezing his shoulder.
Rapier nodded, ignoring the lion who continued to chuff and snarl in his head, trying to gain his attention. For the first time, in a long time, Rapier felt confident they were safe, and he had the backing of the pack to protect his Pride and family.
Yeah, they had a plan in place to run, if all hell broke loose. Deep down though, Rapier knew Raymond Quincy was going to pay for his misdeeds one way or the other. He’d either end up locked in a prison cell for the rest of his natural born life or buried six feet under when it happened.
All he wanted, hell all he ever wanted was to bond with his girls, make more babies with Jasmine, and live a peaceful life. The more babies part, he believed had already happened. He couldn’t prove it yet, because his mate’s emotions were all over the place, covering the subtle scent of new life, but still the sense of it being there radiated off her.
“We’ll swing by and get the girls in a little while after Jasmine has a moment,” Rapier said.
“I’ll swing by your house later then. After the girls are in bed.” Kalkin addressed Jasmine. “You’ll need to sign the complaint before I file it.”
“That’s fine,” her soft, emotionless voice had his gut clenching in distaste.
“Go,” Kalkin ordered. “Take care of her and your cubs.”
Rapier nodded, knowing exactly what they both required in this instance. It’d be after he got the girls, explained to his siblings this newest wrinkle in their plans, and after dinner. He prayed to God, he’d be able to wait. It was bad enough his lion continued to pace inside of his head. The lion was on guard and kept pushing against his skin in the hopes the man would, in a moment of weakness, allow the beast to break through and take over.
Not on my watch, asshole.
Chapter Fifteen
Rapier stood inside Kalkin’s office as the first reports came in. It’d been three days since the bitch in town scared the shit out of his mate. Thankfully, his cubs didn’t get the implications of what happened or why their mother had been upset.
He did.
If they had, he knew the repercussions of the event would haunt his family for the rest of their lives. The girls, for all their knowledge of why they were parted for so long, didn’t necessarily understand the finer details. They couldn’t comprehend what Rapier and Jasmine’s life was like pre-Raymond Quincy. They never had a chance to see the carefree Jasmine Rapier fell in love with. The woman who could put him in his place without a second thought. The woman who told him no so many times, before finally saying yes. He’d do whatever it’d take to get that piece of his mate back.
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As it stood, her anxiety rubbed his lion the wrong way. The beast and the man didn’t know how to care for their panic-stricken mate who continued to spiral down into this endless pit of despair. Even talking to Jenna, which she claimed would help, couldn’t bring Jasmine out of her depression. She sat in debilitating darkness away from everyone. He’d never seen anything like it, and Rapier swore, he’d never see it again.
“Reports are still sketchy as we learn more details about Judge Harold Malcom’s death.” Shit. The whole situation stunk. From the pictures on the TV, the house had been broken into and set on fire. If Rapier had to guess, that had been done to cover Raymond’s tracks and to make it look like an accident.
“We know Judge Malcom presided over the Raymond Quincy trial which took a decidedly cruel turn when Kalkin Raferty, now District Attorney Charles Franks, and Under-Sheriff Caden Raferty stood on the stairs of the courthouse and announced a new investigation into the sexual abuse of minors,” the news anchor said. “Unfortunately, last week the bodies of Allen Pendergrass and Marjorie Pendergrass, both suspects in the firebombing of the police department, multiple counts of attempted murder of a law enforcement officer, aggravated assault of a law enforcement officer, and in the allegations of sexual abuse of minors, were found dead in their cells.”
Shit. People were going to get suspicious of all the deaths. It all looked like a coordinated hit. And in reality, it was. Raymond was behind it all. It made Rapier’s skin crawl. No one was telling the public or press about Quincy’s escape. Doing so would make the situation worse than it already was, but the twinge of guilt ate at him. Now, he wished someone would tell.
Rapier sat down in the chair beside him and blew out a breath; too many people were dying because of Raymond. They had to do something. Anything to make it stop. Rapier ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. No matter how many times they caught the bastard, Quincy got away. Ten years ago, he should have stood his ground and killed the bastard before even thinking of leaving his home and his family. Like Kalkin, he’d done the safe thing. He put his family first. Look where it got them now.
The door to the office opened, and Kalkin stepped inside. The man appeared exhausted. The lines around his mouth were deep set with a frown. His eyes were clouded by what Rapier suspected were haunting memories. His hair was at odd angles from running his fingers through it too many times. Hell, they probably mirrored each other.
“Glad you’re here,” Kalkin said. “Come with me.”
Rapier stood and followed Kalkin out of the office. The place was a hub of activity. Phones were ringing off the hook, deputies were hard at work at their desks, and those not there were patrolling. The cramped quarters weren’t cohesive to their jobs, but it also forced everyone to pull their weight together.
“What’s going on?” Rapier hedged.
“We’re thinking of going public with Raymond’s escape,” Kalkin said. “This morning enforces what we feared. He’s targeting everyone.”
Rapier sighed. “I’m not sure—”
“He killed the judge,” Kalkin said. “Before he lit the house on fire.”
“Fuck.” Rapier blew out a breath.
“Because of the fast response by our fire department, the scene wasn’t compromised. They contained the fire to the front of the house. The upstairs and the judge’s bedroom were intact. There were two bottles of pills on the bedside table. One for the judge’s heart condition and one to help the judge sleep. Both bottles were upended. We’ll know more when the autopsy is complete.”
“I doubt the man didn’t know which bottle was which,” Rapier stated.
“You’d be absolutely right.” Kalkin snorted. “The ME found a small puncture mark at his jugular. He said he’d know more once he got the body back to the morgue.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“The longer we keep a lid on this, the more likely Raymond will continue to kill people. Instead of hiding, he’s calling us out.” Kalkin pressed the button on the elevator. “I put a team on Charles. If Raymond comes for him, we’re completely fucked.”
“What about Mattis?”
“He too is a loose end.” When the doors opened, Kalkin and Rapier stepped inside and waited for them to close before he spoke. “He could be in contact with Raymond. If I put anyone on him...”
Rapier got the gist. “So, leave him as a treat and a trap and hope Raymond fucks up by going to him.”
“Bingo,” Kalkin said. “Lucas and Sage are already on it. They’re surveilling the house. If Raymond shows his head, they’ll know.”
“You think it’s wise putting them together?” Rapier cocked a brow.
“They’re mates. We have watched them dance around this for almost two years now. They’re both hurting. Keeping an eye on Mattis will force them to talk.”
“You’re not worried they’ll fuck up?” Rapier asked.
“Not in the slightest. I know my niece, and I know Lucas. Both think more of the job than of themselves,” Kalkin answered. “They’ll figure it out.”
As they stepped out onto the main floor of the courthouse, a group of reporters were already gathering. They flung question after question at Kalkin, who’d repeated the same phrase over and over again. “No comment.” The bastard was smooth with it too as he pushed through the throng. The reporters were relentless though, continuing to throw multiple enquiries at him.
Kalkin paused at the doors then turned to face the microphones. “Apache County is a quiet place, as is Window Rock. We strive to keep our quests and our citizens safe. By doing this, you are adding to the hysteria. When I have an official statement, I will give it to you. Until then, no comment. Now, please leave. You are hampering and disrupting official business within the Apache County Courthouse.”
He pushed opened the door, then stood to the side and waited. Slowly, the reporters left the building. The lingering questions echoed off the walls of the building until silence reigned. Rapier blew out a breath and shook his head. “I thought you were going to tell them to fuck off.”
“Tempted though I may be, I need them as well. The minute the tide changes and the media portrays me or anyone in a horrible light, I can’t get that trust back.” Kalkin closed the door and headed for his Enforcer.
“What do you need from me then?” Rapier leaned against the front quarter-panel of the vehicle when they arrived.
“Keep your eyes open,” he replied. “If you can find Poppa or Black Jack, ask them questions. Like, where Raymond liked to go. What he did, when he wasn’t trying to fuck us over. I think if we can get ahead of him and close down all of his mainstays, we can push him out in the open and capture him.”
“Will do,” Rapier said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Kalkin grunted then got into the Enforcer. As his thumb hovered over the fob to start the engine, his radio popped. “Sheriff, there’s been an incident at Mrs. Martin’s shop. She’s requesting you, personally.”
“On it,” Kalkin stated then jerked his chin in the direction of the seat beside him. “Come on.”
Rapier got into the vehicle and was putting on his seatbelt when Kalkin pulled out of his spot and sped for the exit. Mrs. Martin didn’t just call the police. The woman was hell on wheels and would kill anyone who threatened what was hers, so it had to be bad. So many different scenarios ran through his mind as they cut a swath through traffic and pulled up in front of the second-hand shop.
Shock and anger rolled through Rapier’s veins. The front windows were smashed out. The small knick-knacks were destroyed along with the furniture she displayed. Mrs. Martin stood on the sidewalk, her arms folded, while she shook her head. Beside her stood Annabelle and Jerome. In the time Rapier had been there, no one had ever messed with Mrs. Martin. This had to be connected. Probably the bitch who threatened Jasmine and the girls. The lion’s lip curled, and the beast pushed forward, brushing against his skin.
“Check yourself before you get out,” Kalkin said. “We’re runni
ng a bit high right now.”
Yeah, they were. Rapier took a few deep breaths and let them out. Though he wouldn’t mind letting the lion out to wreak havoc, he couldn’t. The optics would show a crazy ass shifter who couldn’t control his temper. He wouldn’t jeopardize Kalkin’s case, nor the District Attorney’s.
Once he got out of the Enforcer, he took measured steps, closing the distance between himself and everyone else. The lion still warred with him, but the more he calmed the anger building, the less his beast fought him. The technique was exhausting to say the least. He realized part of the issue lay with himself. He’d yet allowed the beast out, with exception of when he had sex with Jasmine. Pinning him up was also hurting his shifter nature, and he had to remedy it soon.
“Mrs. Martin, are you okay?” Rapier hedged. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No, my boy.” She cast her soulful eyes in his direction. The pain and resignation there singed his soul. “Just the shop.”
“Would you like me to get you some tea?” Fuck, he hated being helpless in these kinds of situations.
“I already did,” Annabelle said. “Thank you for the offer.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
“Rapier,” Kalkin called out. “Come here.”
He touched Mrs. Martin’s arm. “I’ll be right back. I swear.”
“Go,” Mrs. Martin said. “Don’t want Kalkin to get his tail in a knot.”
Rapier chuckled. “No, ma’am, we don’t.” He strode to the entrance of the shop and whistled. “Fuck me.”
“Yeah,” Jerome snarled. “It’s worse in back.”
The clothes were spray painted and left in a pile. The dishes were broken, and the shards lay scattered across the floor. TVs, radios, and VCRs were smashed and left strew everywhere. Not one object was left intact. Rapier joined Jerome and Kalkin in the backroom where Mrs. Martin liked to sit and host guests. Her priceless fine-bone china teapots and delicate cups were smashed into dust in some cases or broken into tiny bits in others. Her table had been upended. The small sink faucet was busted, allowing water to fill the backroom, coating everything in at least three inches of water. Thankfully, someone, he suspected Jerome, turned off the main valve. Books and sheets and table cloths were shredded, thrown haphazardly into the pool of water.