I ignored him and scooted my bags inside the door with my foot, displacing debris as I went. Then I started to pick my way around the room. The police had dusted for prints and there was residue everywhere. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t going to find any suspicious fingerprints. I rarely entertained.
I headed straight across the room to the sliding glass doors that led out to my tiny balcony. Sheets of plywood stood in place of the glass. Huge shards of broken glass scattered the floor inside, right by the opening. Yeah, Marcy.
I unlatched the doorframe and slid it open. It still worked, which was surprising. I must have hit it cleanly, since only the glass had shattered. The frame was intact.
I stepped onto my small balcony.
I’d chosen to come out here first for two reasons. One, because that’s what Ray would expect me to do. A good cop investigates the entry point of the crime scene first, and even though Ray was not buying my camping story, I still believed he thought this was a true break-in. A break-in I had something to do with, but still a break-in. I also believed Ray thought I’d been home when the attackers came, and had sub-sequently fled, thereby leaving behind my much-needed keys and purse.
The second reason? I wanted to see if any incriminating evidence lingered so I could try and get rid of it quickly.
Ray stepped onto the balcony with me, crowding us both. “Hannon,” he said. “There was a car in the parking lot with significant damage to the roof. It was all scratched up with what appeared to be … claw marks. The diameter and size matched the gouges all over your floor exactly. It’s like they threw their fucking dog off the balcony when they were done. Except there was no blood. We should’ve been scraping a dead carcass off that roof.” He managed to sound accusing, like I’d been there to witness the dog-throwing. “But the techies told me a regular canine wouldn’t be heavy enough to inflict that kind of damage. The mutt would’ve had to be attached to a boulder to crush it that far in. The steel frame warped.”
“Hmm. I didn’t hear about a car being wrecked,” I said in a distracted tone. I was casually examining the top of my railing for gouges. There should be some there, which would give some legitimacy to an animal launching itself off of here, but there were none. Marcy had swept the entire balcony.
“We also found evidence of grappling-hook marks and some rope, but not a single person in the whole building saw anyone shimmying up or down three stories. Pretty strange, don’t you think?”
“Yep. Strange.” I turned and headed back into my apartment, sidestepping a large pile of broken things on the way in. “It’s a mystery. You’d think at least one person would’ve spotted a body climbing up or down three stories.”
“That begs the question: how in the hell did they get their pet in here if they climbed a fucking rope? Now that would be a great circus act if you ask me.”
“Maybe there were two people. One who shimmied up and unlocked the door for the waiting dog owner,” I suggested winningly. I might as well go along with the probable scenario like a good P.I., since there was no arguing that an animal had been in my apartment. I had no idea what the fur samples would come back as, but I was hoping for “undetermined species.” Having it come back as wolf would be a pain in the ass, and would raise more questions than it answered. The human police would never in a million years think “werewolf,” but it was best not to raise any complicated questions.
“Crash like that”—Ray indicated back to my shattered sliding glass door—“is bound to bring your neighbors over in a hurry. Not much chance to open the door for an accomplice, and then still have time to trash it all up like this.”
Without answering, I headed toward my bedroom. I passed my galley kitchen on the left, the only place my wolf hadn’t entered. The small space had been spared because my wolf had ignored it in favor of getting out of the apartment. I loved my tiny kitchen. It was clean and white, with black granite counter-tops and small stainless steel appliances. It had a large breakfast nook cut into my living room, set with a countertop, which gave the space a larger feel.
I stepped over what was left of a table in the hallway, all the knickknacks that used to sit on it destroyed. I maneuvered around some of the bigger pieces as I edged closer to my bed-room door, which was shut.
I held my breath and turned the knob.
Ray lurked behind me, taking every opportunity to size up my reactions.
The police had spent time in here. Fingerprint residue skimmed the top of my dresser and dotted all the drawer knobs. The police were gathering evidence to prove an intimate crime had been committed. Otherwise my bedroom looked unmolested.
I approached my dresser and pulled a drawer open, knowing Ray was still scrutinizing my choices. I scanned the contents, reaching in and lifting the clothing to do a thorough check. I closed the drawer and pulled open my meager jewelry box, which sat on top of my dresser. It contained only a few pieces of cheap costume jewelry. I was not a bling girl. I glanced in for a cursory check. Ray would expect it.
“We couldn’t find anything disturbed in here. It seems to be clean.” Ray peered over my shoulder as I closed the box. “You missing any jewelry?”
“No.”
“What we can’t figure is, why didn’t they come back here first? Crimes like this, personal space gets hit first. Kind of like slapping someone in the face. If they wanted to hit you hard, they come here. Cut up the sheets, stab the mattress, shred your underwear. But it’s all clear.”
I walked toward my bed. “I have no idea, Ray. With a loud crash like you said, they only had limited time to do any significant damage. Guess they just couldn’t get back here in time.” I slid open the tiny drawer on my completely fixed bed-side stand. It was only big enough to hold one small paperback book, or a leather case full of a useful syringe. A stupid mistake I was paying for in spades. I closed it and I ran my hand over my pristine covers. Marcy’s work was flawless.
Ray crossed his arms and grunted. The scene didn’t match the typical scenario for a crime like this, and it pissed him the hell off. He also understood I was seeing it for the first time, which I was.
Perfect.
I was famished again, my stomach already knotting in on itself. I was also exhausted in the extreme. I was done with Ray and the dance for the day. I strode purposefully back to the living room with him predictably traipsing after me. I spun around in the middle of the chaos, all business. “Okay, Ray. Do you have any leads? Anything concrete you’d care to share with me? If not, I’ll get you my statement tomorrow. I’m calling it a day. I’ve got to clean up this mess and I’m tired and hungry. You’re not going to want to be here in another five minutes, because my cooperation time with the police is officially over.”
“We’re working a couple angles,” he hedged. “I’m going to need a full disclosure of all your contacts, specifically anyone you’d suspect capable of doing damage like this. Then I’ll need the name of that mysterious boyfriend of yours. I’d like to ask him a few questions.” Ray shot me a smirk. “When and if he shows up, of course.”
“That’s fine, Ray. I’ll fax mine over tomorrow and talk to James. I’m sure he won’t have a problem chatting with you. Is that it?” James? Well, I guess I couldn’t exactly date my brother. Men were minimal in my life and the thought of James and Ray having a real face-to-face made me smile. James it was.
Ray headed toward my door on his own, but I wasn’t at all surprised when he turned back around with another smug grin on his face. “Oh, and the horse tranq full of shit we found in your bathroom cupboard? We’ll need your full explanation on that. In writing. It’s still at the lab, but once it comes back and we tag it, your ass is mine, Hannon.” He left without looking back.
Of course they would find the syringe! That was Ray’s big coup de grâce. Why he’d gone a little easier on me once we’d gotten inside. He thought his dramatic exit would bring down the house, that the crippling news of them finding suspicious drugs would leave me quaking. And I had to ha
nd it to him, horse tranq wasn’t actually too far from the truth. Dr. Jace had spent a good chunk of his career perfecting a sedative strong enough to prove effective on werewolves. The lab reports would likely contain a laundry list of ingredients, all with doses high enough to effectively knock out not just one horse—but a dozen.
I’d put a call in to my father. Dr. Jace would need to invent a medical necessity for my having it, some rare disease requiring heavy sedatives, and fax the info down to the precinct. That sounded feasible. The needle had never been used, which would be easy enough for the lab to see, and even if they suspected it was illegal, it wasn’t like I shot up every night, since there was just the one dose. But Ray was still going to make a big deal about it. Like a thorn stuck in my ass. I sighed and turned, considering my living room and the mess surrounding me. “Okay, now what?” I said out loud to a roomful of my broken possessions. Sadly, nothing responded.
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and stacking as much as I could into various piles. My walls were going to need some major repairs. Big chunks were missing where things had smashed into them. I couldn’t even think about the floors without weeping. The gorgeous hardwood was so deeply scarred it would be a miracle if it ever looked the same.
When I finished, I made a couple of phone calls, then devoured every scrap of food in my kitchen, which amounted to an assortment of cheese, crackers, pickles, and microwavable entrees—before falling into bed. Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow.
I slept like a newborn.
When I opened my eyes it was noon the next day.
Fuck.
6
I hustled out of bed and showered quickly. While still slightly damp, I yanked on a pair of jeans and a black cotton top. I tugged my long black hair back into its customary ponytail and slipped into a pair of soft leather flats. I always went to work casual when I wasn’t meeting with clients.
Marcy had briefed me yesterday in a short phone conversation about the schedule for the rest of the week. I had several cases requiring my attention today. It seemed the office had received an interesting call from a prospective client yesterday morning, and a response on my part was necessary as soon as possible. It felt like I’d been gone for weeks, not days. Sleeping in had not been on the itinerary.
I’d also chatted briefly with my father before bed. He informed me that he’d positioned several trusted wolves around my neighborhood, several blocks away. The plan today was business as usual. Molly Hannon had to convincingly pick up where she’d left off on Friday if we had any chance of keeping a lid on my shift.
I was glad for the distraction of work, because lingering on my change would drive me batty if I was left to my own devices. My wolf had been quiet in my mind since returning home, but the plain fact that I’d become a full-blooded werewolf was going to alter my life completely—my current reality would eventually become unrecognizable. I wasn’t ready. Truth be told, I was ill prepared for any of it. I’d lived as a human for the past twenty-six years. I had no idea what it meant to be supernatural. But since I’d left the Compound seven years ago, I’d taken each day as it came and today I was going to do just that. So help me.
I grabbed my errant purse, the one I had to scrub down last night so it was usable, and slung it over my shoulder. I wove my way through the path I’d cleared to my front door. Once I got outside, I made a cursory glance around the lot. There was no evidence of the car I’d crushed. There weren’t even any bits of glass or stray pieces of chrome lying around. That was a little disappointing. It would’ve been interesting to see the damage. Crashing out of a three-story balcony was impressive by anyone‘s standard.
I walked toward my black Nissan and pressed the unlock button. The car gave a gratuitous beep. I pulled the door open, but before I could slide in I heard a noise. Footsteps sounded on the asphalt behind me. I inhaled, but strangely I couldn’t scent anything. The air carried no smells. I tossed my purse in the front seat and spun around, ready to fight.
“No need to be worried then.” A heavily accented English voice hit my ears a heartbeat before I spotted him. “It’s just me. I’m checking to make sure all is well with you this fine bright afternoon, and you’re still all in one piece.” Danny Walker, my brother’s best friend, and one of my father’s most trusted, sauntered up to me smiling. His brown hair fully covered one eye, which he remedied with a flick of his head. He was a lanky wolf, thin but powerful.
“Danny,” I said. “You snuck up on me. I’m going to have to get better at detecting, but it’s great to see you.” Even though Danny was a friend and ally, and one of the few who knew my secret, our paths never crossed in the city. It had always been too risky. Even now it was risky. “Why can’t I smell you?”
“I rang up that witch of yours last night when I received my orders from your father. I asked her for a favor and she willingly obliged. Positioning wolves around the perimeter of your place was bound to raise suspicion to anyone who happened by with a keen nose, even if they were a few blocks away. She fixed us up quite nicely. Seems to have done the trick.”
“Great plan.” I inhaled again. All clear. Marcy must’ve conjured some kind of stripping spell, making it impossible to detect any smells within its boundaries. I couldn’t even smell the grass. It was likely the quickest and easiest way to spell such a vast area.
“It only lasts a day or two at most, so we’ll have to have her come round again.” Danny grinned. “You’re looking very well, by the way. I have no idea why there’s a big uproar about your safety, since no one’s bloody told me anything, but don’t worry your little head about security. Tyler arrived in the wee hours of this morning and we’re all on top of it. Nothing but the very best protection for you. We will make sure you stay safe from whatever it is that’s plaguing you.” If Danny hadn’t figured it out from the beacon, maybe there was hope it had gone unnoticed after all. He knew me and my voice.
“Thanks, Danny. I appreciate that. I hope the whole thing will be short-lived and we can go back to normal as soon as possible.”
“Ah, but then I won’t get any more chances to see your gorgeous face. Best for us to keep vigilant so we have ample opportunity to keep our clandestine parking lot visits ongoing. This will likely be the highlight of my very long, very boring day.”
I chuckled. “How is it possible you never change, Danny Walker? At least you didn’t comment about my ass this time.”
“What’s wrong with your bum, then? Eating too many biscuits?”
“No.” I laughed. “I haven’t been eating biscuits, but that does sound damn good. And my ass is just fine.” I grabbed on to my door handle. “I hate to break up our reunion, but we should end this illicit meeting before it gets noticed. It was good to see you, Danny. I mean that. Thanks for the backup. I appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He gave me a mock three-finger salute. “Hope our paths cross again soon.” He turned and left like the professional he was. But not before he snuck a glance over his shoulder to check out my ass.
I got into my car, smiling as I slammed the door. Once I was on the road my stomach gave a deep, disgruntled grumble. I’d eaten myself out of food last night and I needed coffee, but it would have to wait. I was already late. My small, nondescript office building wasn’t far from my apartment, by design, and I made it in under five minutes.
I pulled into the side lot, closest to the door. The low concrete complex hosted a variety of other businesses—dental, insurance, and chiropractic. Very unnoticeable. Our offices were on the main floor.
I swung open the opaque glass door, marked with the white stenciled lettering “Hannon & Michaels Investigations,” and walked in.
Marcy pushed back her chair and stood. “Well, well, well, look who the cat finally dragged in.” She mocked checking the big clock on the wall.
“I know, I’m late,” I said. “My cell phone died sometime during the night. I need a new charger; my old one is one of the many casualties o
f my ransacked apartment. No alarm. But I bet you knew that already. How many times did you try to call?”
“Contrary to what you think, O blessed taskmaster, I thought it best to let you sleep. I’m only your keeper part of the time. My other starring roles include—but are not limited to—the fun-loving gal pal, the beautiful chirpy sidekick, and your brilliant bookie. And I can be all those things because I’m so unbelievably gifted.” Marcy walked around to the front of her desk.
“I haven’t gambled a day in my life.” I chuckled. “And to think, all this time I thought you were all work and no play.”
“Nope, that, my friend, would make me a very dull girl.” She wrapped her arms around me for a brief second, and then held me out at arm’s length, her bony fingertips digging into my shoulders. “And if you ever scare me half to death like that again I will quit this job. I swear. Forever.” She shook me. “As in never coming back. Got it?” Then she dropped her grasp and headed back around her desk.
“Marcy,” I chided. “Your deep concern about my safety and well-being makes me all tingly inside.”
“I don’t care. It just seems like I do. But scaring people isn’t funny. I almost had a heart attack. You’re putting my health at risk if you do something like that again.” She sat down and pulled her chic glasses out of her rich red curls—hair I could only dream about—and drew a sheet of paper off the stack in front of her, back to the day’s agenda. “You have some calls to make about the Craig case. The one you finished last week. The warlock wants some sort of compensation for his broken nose.” She ran through the details. “Oh, yes, and the new potential client, the one I talked to you about yesterday, his name is Colin Rourke. Sounds like a solid case, plus he sounded totally cute.” She shuffled through a stack of notes marked “Molly.” “And tonight you and Nick are slated for another Drake surveillance run. While you were gone, Nick hired Gary to watch him. The report is waiting on your desk. Oh, and Nick wanted me to tell you, and I quote, ‘when she gets her ass out of bed tell her I will be out of the office all day trying to figure out that mess with the paint store owner and the graffiti,’ end quote.” She handed me the stack. “That about covers it.”
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