Avenging Autumn

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Avenging Autumn Page 17

by Marissa Farrar


  Blake left the bathroom and went back out into the kitchen. A strange, yet familiar bulk was hunched over the table, eating cookies off a plate. For a moment, his head swam, almost certain he was seeing things, but then reality settled again, and he realized he wasn’t hallucinating.

  Adrenaline soared through Blake, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  Rhys turned to face him, and lifted a hand in a wave. “Hey, Blake,” he said, spitting crumbs as he spoke.

  Chogan followed in behind. “Err, yeah, I probably should have mentioned that sooner.”

  “You think?” Blake said, turning to his cousin.

  “Vivian paid Rhys to help her bring in more shifters for her, and to contact The Company of Tooth and Claw. He was involved in the set-up that made Autumn appear to be involved with them, which was ultimately what got her arrested. Autumn thought we’d be best to keep him with us in case he could tell us where Vivian is.”

  “And can he?”

  “Not fully. He said she was coming back here, but there’s been no sign of her.”

  “And what about him?” Blake said, nodding back toward Rhys. “The man is a traitor. How do we know he won’t turn on us again?”

  “He’s no more than a coward who is easily bought,” said Chogan. “But anyway, Daisy has got his mood under control, don’t you Daisy?”

  The mute girl gave a smile and took a bite of her own cookie.

  Blake ran a hand over his head. “Jesus Christ. What else don’t I know about?”

  The roar of a car engine pulled up outside. Blake wheeled himself over to peer out of the window. The car didn’t need to be marked for him to immediately recognize that the two people climbing out of it were police officers.

  “Oh, shit. The cops are here.”

  Chogan got to his feet. “They must be here about Autumn.”

  Blake clenched his fists. “Let’s hope they have good news.”

  Chogan went to the door, Blake following close behind. He felt the gazes of everyone else following them nervously. The police generally didn’t mean good things for them.

  Chogan opened the door before they even had the chance to knock. The older of the two male police officers paused with his hand lifted, about to rap on the wood. With the door already open, his hand changed direction, pulling out identification from his pocket and flashing it at Chogan.

  “I’m looking for a Mrs. Madison Powell,” the officer said. “I believe she’s here.”

  “She was,” said Chogan, “but she left a couple of days ago. We gave her a ride after her car broke down on the highway, and she stayed here overnight, with her boy, and took off the next day. Can I ask what this is about?”

  “We’re here on a missing person’s enquiry. Councilor Anthony John Powell has been missing since yesterday, and the last reports were that he was coming here in search of his wife and young son.”

  Chogan’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding right? Why the hell would a city councilor come here?”

  “I already told you, in search of his wife and son. A friend of his wife’s was contacted by Madison, and was told that she was here.”

  “Yeah,” Chogan admitted. “Madison was here with her boy, but not for long. She took off, already.”

  The older cop held up a photograph. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Chogan shook his head. “No. Never seen him before. I’m not exactly clued up on politics. I normally live on Red Lake reservation, as does my uncle here, and a couple of the other guys. We just came to visit Auntie Wenona over there.” Wenona gave them a sweet smile, and lifted her hand in a wave, but Blake noted how her fingers were trembling. His own stomach was twisted with a sickening sense that he knew exactly what was coming.

  The cop looked over to him, his eyes first assessing the chair Blake sat in. “What about you, sir? Do you recognize the man in the photograph?” The officer turned the photo to face Blake, and Blake steeled his face into a stone mask. He couldn’t show any sign of recognition, even though the image he was looking at was the same guy he’d shot to death only twenty-four hours earlier. The man in the photograph was clean shaven, with groomed hair, a grey suit, and a carefully schooled smile. It looked like the sort of photograph that would have been used on his campaign posters. The expression wasn’t anything like that of the furious guy who had been here the other night. Why the hell hadn’t Madison told them who her husband was? This was bound to come down on them. Blake wished they’d driven the truck farther away. It was out in the middle of the forest, as far out as they’d been able to get it before the undergrowth got too thick to drive through. He’d given Wenona and Lakota instructions to drive it into a tree in case anyone found it, then they might think he’d simply had an accident, gotten disoriented, and wandered off into the forest, where he’d died of exposure. The body had been buried out there as well, though Blake hadn’t thought to tell them to bury it deep. He couldn’t have expected them to do too much, especially as he’d not been able to help himself. He’d been hoping the others would have been able to help more when they got back to get rid of the body. It had supposed to have been a temporary measure. It had never occurred to him that someone would come looking for the asshole.

  The cop tried to move farther into the house. “Mind if we take a look around?” His head was already peering through, as if he intended to do so, whatever they’d said, but Wenona stepped into his path.

  “I think you need a warrant for that, Officer.”

  He gave a tight-lipped smile. “No problem, I’m sure we can get one of those, especially considering the identity of the missing person.”

  He handed Chogan a card. “But in the meantime, should you hear from Madison Powell again, or hear anything about the whereabouts of Anthony John Powell, don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

  “Of course,” said Chogan, taking the card.

  He carefully shut the door behind him, and then spun to face Blake. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  “Something happened while you were gone,” said Blake, his stomach churning.

  Chogan glared at him. “No shit. And to think you were complaining about being kept in the dark about things. I think you have some serious explaining to do.”

  Blake couldn’t argue with him about that.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  AUTUMN GLANCED OVER at the older man driving the car. While she was thankful to be out of the jail cell, she didn’t trust the person sitting beside her. “I need you to take me back to my friends.”

  He gave her a fleeting look, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment. “The other shifters, am I right? The group staying at the homestead owned by the old Native American woman.”

  Autumn eyed him suspiciously. “Yes, that’s right. How do you know about them?”

  “I try to make it my business to know everything.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  “I told you,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “A friend of your mother’s.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “What?”

  “A friend of my mother’s—in the present tense.”

  “Because that’s what I am, Autumn. Your mother is still alive.”

  She felt like someone had punched her, shock blinding her mind, clearing all thought from it. “What? No, that’s not possible. I’d know.”

  He smiled. “You do know now.”

  “No, I mean ... It’s been years. She’s dead. My father was there when she died. We buried her!”

  “Your mother survived, and you buried a body, but it wasn’t hers. Your mother was able to do what you can, Autumn. Of course, we had no idea her gift had been passed down to you. If we had, we’d have taken you away from there in a blink of an eye. But you appeared to be living a perfectly normal life. Until recently, of course.”

  “A normal life? I lost my mother. My father grieved so hard, he forgot he had a daughter. My friend’s parent
s practically raised me.”

  “I understand it was hard, but you were safe. You weren’t living in a cell, and no one was experimenting on you. If your mother had stayed, and more people found out about her, that would have changed.”

  “So couldn’t she just have left? Why did she have to fake her own death?”

  “She needed to draw a line under her existence. If she’d just left, you would have tried to find her again, and that would have drawn attention to you. We’d hoped things would calm down, and they did for a very long time—years, in fact. But then you met Blake Wolfcollar, and everything blew up again.”

  Her stomach clenched at the sound of Blake’s name. “Does he know my mother is still alive?” Somehow, the thought of him feeding that lie to her was even worse than her mother’s betrayal.

  Robert Carter laughed. “No, of course not. The Native Americans have nothing to do with your mother.”

  “She must have been one of their descendents, though, like I am.”

  “Yes, many generations ago, but that really has nothing to do with why she faked her own death.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s better coming from her. I can take you to her.”

  Her heart stopped, her mind swimming. Her first thought was that she wished her father had lived long enough to learn the woman he’d loved for so long had still been alive, and her eyes filled with angry tears. Her throat tightened, a sharp pain piercing the back of it as she struggled to compose herself. “No! I don’t want to see her! She put us through hell.”

  “She was only trying to protect you.”

  “Bullshit. What did she think would happen?”

  “Exactly what’s happening to you now.”

  “This has been going on for weeks—what I can do was exposed ages ago. Why are you just showing up now?”

  “Things were going so well for you. You were making a difference. But your name is being associated with this terrorist group, and what you’ve worked so hard for could all fall apart.”

  “So you want to help me now? But where were you and my mother when Vivian Winters was holding me prisoner, and draining my blood for her experiments? Where were you when my father was being murdered?”

  His eyes widened. “Professor Anderson is dead?”

  “Yes, Vivian slit his throat and then sent me his amputated hand as a present.” She lifted her hand to reveal the gold wedding band she wore around her thumb. “This was his and my mother’s wedding ring.”

  His eyes cast down briefly, before lifting back up to watch the road. “I’m sorry. Your father was a good man. And I’m sorry for what you went though as well. Clearly, I don’t know as much as I thought I did. If I’d been aware of her conducting those horrific acts, I would have stepped in sooner.”

  “Yeah, well who the hell are you? What makes you think you can even help me?”

  “I’m influential in the government.”

  “Influential? How?”

  “I’m a member of congress, Autumn.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re a congressman?”

  “Yes, and I believe together we can make some serious changes for shifters, but I can’t have you involved with people like those of The Company of Tooth and Claw.”

  “I don’t care about them. All I want is Vivian dead.”

  “I can’t help you kill Vivian Winters. I can’t even talk to you about such things.”

  “In which case, you’re no help to me at all.” She reached for the door handle, her fingertips touching the cool metal. “Stop the car and let me out.”

  “I can take you back to your mother.”

  She spun to him. “I don’t want to see a woman who has abandoned me for the past twenty years.”

  “It was for your own good, Autumn.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “I realize this is difficult for you, but I promise you this is for the greater good.”

  “Why do you even care?” she shot back.

  “I want to make a difference. I’ve had people in my life who have been shifters. I’ve witnessed the persecution they can suffer, and I don’t want others to go through the same thing.”

  Was she imagining it, or did a sudden flash of pain tighten his features, his knuckles growing white as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

  “I can help you,” he continued, “but I won’t help you kill. I can get your charges dropped, but you need to stay clear of this Company of Tooth and Claw.”

  “It wasn’t my intention to get caught up with them. I was thrown into it.”

  “You need to stop putting yourself in situations where someone can take advantage of you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then people need to stop harming the people I love.”

  He gave a deep sigh. “I want to help shifters. I want to help you. But you need to help me.”

  “I just want to be taken back to my friends.”

  “If I do that, will you then let me take you to meet your mother again?”

  “Can they come?”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  She sighed and sat back in her seat. The fact was she didn’t have many other options. She was in the middle of nowhere, with no money or cell phone to call for help. Whatever else this man had said, he didn’t seem threatening, and he just put up a huge amount of money to get her out of jail. She figured she needed his help.

  “Fine,” she relented. “Take me to my friends, and then we’ll talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “WE NEED TO talk,” said Chogan.

  He grabbed the back of Blake’s chair and started wheeling it into the kitchen. The movement was too rough, and Blake found himself lurching forward and then back again as Chogan manhandled the wheelchair. His cousin slammed the door shut behind them, and turned to face him.

  “You killed Madison’s ex?” Chogan said, his dark eyes wide.

  “Well, technically, he’s not her ex. He was still her husband, but she’d up and left him with the kid. I didn’t have much choice. First of all, the guy tried to abduct Madison and Billy, and then he tried to attack us. It was a kill or be killed situation.”

  “And you didn’t think to just call the police after he’d tried to abduct her?”

  “Since when have you been the voice of reason, Chogan?” Blake snapped. “We offered to call the police for Madison, but she said they were always on his side. She said her ex had them in his pocket, and it would only make matters worse.”

  Chogan’s eyebrow lifted. “Worse than this?”

  “Okay, okay. We hadn’t expected to find out he was an official. He looked like a fucking redneck when he was here.”

  “I guess trying to abduct a woman and child in the middle of the night will do that for a guy.” Chogan locked a hand in his hair. “Hell. What do we do now?”

  “We’re going to have to move the body,” said Blake. “I only had my father, Wenona, and Madison here to help get rid of it, and I couldn’t ask Madison. It felt wrong. It’s in a shallow grave, and nowhere near far enough from here. The truck he arrived in isn’t far from the grave either. The cops will find it easily enough if they go looking, and it won’t take them long to match the slug in A.J.’s body to one from Wenona’s hoard. We need to get rid of that body—burn it, feed it to a bunch of pigs, melt it with acid, or however else people get rid of bodies in the movies.”

  “Hell, Blake,” Chogan said, shaking his head. “I thought I was the cousin who caused all the trouble.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess our positions switched.”

  Chogan sighed and sat back against the counter. He folded his arms. “And in the meantime, what do we do about Autumn?”

  “Do you know where she was taken?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Okay, then we’ll send Lakota and a couple of the others to go and see how she is, and take it from there. But our priority needs to be getting to that body. If we don’t, there’s going to be a few more of us
behind bars—including Wenona and my father as accessories to murder.”

  The revving of an approaching vehicle came from outside.

  Chogan turned to look out of the window. “Ah, shit. Looks like more cops.”

  “Do you think they found something already?”

  “No idea, but I guess we don’t have much choice other than finding out what they want.”

  Chogan opened the kitchen door and Blake wheeled himself after him.

  The others were already standing in the hallway, drawn by the arrival of a new car, and exchanging nervous glances.

  “Open the door, Chogan,” said Blake.

  Chogan did as he was told, but instead of opening the door to two police officers, they found an older man climbing out of the driver’s side. The passenger door opened, and a blonde with long legs and bright blue eyes climbed out.

  “Autumn?”

  She turned to him, and a smile spread across her face. Without even bothering to shut the car door behind her, she ran toward the house. She reached him and her arms wove around his neck. She curled her body up onto his lap, her lips against the skin of his throat. He encased himself in the feel of her, the scent of her skin, and the softness of her hair. He held her tight, and she squeezed him back, as if trying to meld them together.

  “I missed you so much,” she said.

  “I was so worried about you.”

  Eventually, she released him a little, but only to kiss him, her warm, sweet fingers pressed against the side of his face.

  Someone gave a polite cough. He realized everyone was watching.

  They laughed and kissed quickly again.

  “What happened?” he asked. “How did you get out?”

  “That man over there—the one who brought me here—posted bail for me.”

  Blake glanced over at the white-haired gentleman still standing back from them all. “Seriously?” He made eye contact with the new arrival. “I’d stand up and shake your hand, but as you can see, it’s not that easy for me.”

  He lifted a hand. “No need. Autumn being out is of benefit to us all.”

 

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