by Vella Day
Should we cut the power in case the house is alarmed? Brandon telepathed.
Sure, but we have to be prepared for a battery backup.
Damn. Let’s head around back and check it out.
Keeping vigilant, he and Brandon skirted the perimeter without setting off an alarm. So far so good. The hedge in back was lower than the one in front, which would make it easier to climb over. If the property or house were alarmed, their chances of triggering it would be less if they were in wolf form.
I’ll go first, Brandon said. If nothing happens, join me.
Sam would have suggested that he lead, but they didn’t need to be arguing. Time was critical. Both hid their holsters and then shifted. Brandon wormed his way through the hedge while Sam waited, listening for the sound of other wolves or sirens.
Thirty seconds later, Brandon let him know it was all clear.
To get a better view of the property, Sam leapt on top of the hedge, looked around, and jumped down. The lights were off in the house, which was a good sign the place was vacant.
They kept low to the ground in case there were sensors. Halfway to the back of the house, they both stopped. Fuck. Someone had arrived. Or rather, several wolves had shown up. Where the hell had they been? Growls sounded from two different directions. That wasn’t good.
He and Brandon could run to safety, but then they might never find Cheryl if they didn’t search the house. So fight it was—even if it meant death.
Brandon faced east and Sam took the west. He couldn’t worry about his cousin now. As a trained fighter, Brandon could take care of himself. Two wolves approached Sam, their eyes glowing that familiar gold. One had a huge scar on his mouth that caused the side to droop. The other had a white patch on his chest. Tension rippled through Sam’s body. Despite the odds, he was ready. The only way to kill a wolf was to either shoot him in the heart or rip out his throat. Without his weapon, going for the jugular was his only option. He prayed he bit them before they killed him.
Sam crouched low. A squeal sounded behind him, but it didn’t belong to Brandon. As if one of his attackers signaled the other, the two wolves facing Sam charged at the same time. Scarface launched himself and sank his teeth into Sam’s flank while Whitey went for Sam’s neck. Pain stabbed his rear, and the sweet smell of blood tinged the air.
The first wolf hit his mark, but the second one luckily missed and nabbed Sam’s ear instead of his throat. He pawed at his opponent’s legs and managed to twist around and sink an incisor into Whitey’s eye. The wolf squealed in pain. The attack wasn’t fatal, but the animal would be out of commission for a good sixty seconds, giving Sam precious time for his next assault. He knew he had to make it count.
Scarface’s rear charge implied he wasn’t very experienced. Both wolves should have attacked the neck area, which was exactly what Sam planned to do to him. Haunches bleeding, he lunged for Scarface’s neck. Sam’s aim was dead on. His teeth sunk into the wolf’s warm skin, and blood spurted everywhere. Sam wouldn’t have let go had Whitey not recovered from his eye injury and come after him. Damn creature healed faster than Sam would have thought.
Whitey bit Sam’s flank in the same spot, tearing skin and muscle, nearly making Sam falter. While the wound wouldn’t kill him, if he couldn’t fight to his fullest, he’d die if they clawed at his throat.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the wolf Brandon had been fighting. The injured animal lay bleeding from the neck. Good. With that wolf down, his cousin raced over to help. As much as Sam wanted to end Whitey’s life by himself, there wasn’t time. Sam twisted, grabbed hold of Whitey’s leg and crunched. With a sharp yelp, the wolf released his hold on him and moved back, giving Brandon the perfect opportunity to dig his teeth into Whitey’s neck. Brandon shook the wolf until he collapsed, and then let go. Blood oozed out of the wound.
He won’t be going anywhere for a while, Brandon telepathed.
Thanks.
Brandon was the soft one of the two. Sam would have killed him.
You okay? Brandon asked.
Sam didn’t like the worry in his cousin’s voice. I’ve been better. Let’s get inside before one of these wolves comes to. Though he suspected all but one might bleed out before they had a chance to recover.
Sam limped toward the back of the house. Brandon turned toward him. I’ll shift. You be the lookout.
Fuck you. I’m good. Two can look faster than one.
Suit yourself.
On second thought, he’d heal faster if he remained in wolf form for another minute or two. Besides, he wanted to make sure Whitey stayed down. I’ll be right in.
Brandon’s bones crunched and fur flew. Five seconds later, his cousin was human once more. With a sideways kick, he smashed a windowpane, reached in, and unlatched the door. “Don’t be too long.”
Remember, it was two against one. His fucking cousin acted like he was the superior fighter.
While Sam waited for his body to repair the deep tear on his hindquarters, along with the rip to his earlobe, he kept his gaze on the wolves. No alarm had sounded inside the house, so he partially relaxed. Apparently, these three had believed they could take care of any intruder and hadn’t seen the need to set it.
Impatience finally got to him, and Sam shifted into human form. That had been a mistake. The pain nearly crippled him. He probably should have kept watch for a few more minutes, but he needed to feel useful.
Once inside, the office was easy to find. Brandon was making more noise than a herd of elephants.
“You find anything?” Sam asked when he reached his cousin.
“The computer’s still here.”
That was a stroke of luck. Sam lifted the lid to the laptop and the screen shot to life. It was password protected but Chris Williams should be able to get in. Sam shut it down and unplugged it. “Find anything in the files?”
Brandon was looking through a cabinet. Who kept paper files these days anyway?
“Not yet.”
Sam opened the top desk drawer and found the usual pens, paper, clips, and useless office supplies. He needed to find a little black book, but that would have been too obvious. On the other hand, men like John Hood assumed they’d never get caught or ever die, so maybe he wouldn’t have taken a great deal of care to conceal the information.
The front door to the house opened. Shit. Someone was coming. Sam grabbed the laptop.
Let’s go. Brandon glanced around.
Where? If we break the window, they’ll hear us. In human form, Sam wasn’t sure he could get out of the paned window anyway.
Shit. Booted heals made a clickety clack sound on the wooden floor. Fuck. Hide!
Chapter Five
Sam figured he had about five seconds before someone entered John Hood’s office and found them.
Brandon jerked open the door on the other side of the room. It appeared to be a bathroom, but Sam didn’t have time to see if there was any place in there to hide. Footsteps approached. Quick. Think. Couldn’t hide under the desk. That was too obvious. Sam yanked open cabinet after cabinet trying to find one that wasn’t jammed full of crap. The last one seemed to be the best option. He pushed aside a couple of boxes and crawled in, laptop pressed to his chest. It was a tight fucking fit.
The door opened, their footsteps heavy. It was hard to tell, but it seemed as if there were three men—or rather three werewolves. He could only hope the men were so intent on their task that they didn’t notice two more werewolves in the den. The two-day old mustiness should help.
Several different sets of feet sounded in the room. “Check for his laptop. Hood said he had a safe behind a picture. I’ll look in there.”
Sam didn’t recognize the voice, but it came from a man who seemed comfortable with being in control. Cabinets banged open. Since Sam was in the far end of the credenza on the bottom, he hoped no one would think to look there. His body still hadn’t recovered from the fight, but he and Brandon would tackle these men if need be. He prayed
they weren’t carrying weapons, but if they were Colters, most likely they would.
“Got the safe open,” the one in control stated. “Shit. Nothing’s in here but some letters, money, and a watch.”
More drawers opened. “Can’t find his computer.” This came from a man with a deep voice. “Do you think that Mackenzie woman got here first? Jay said his cousin could hack into anything.”
“Bitch better not be interfering. When she came to the office, I could see she was determined to find the girl. She’s trouble all right. I’ll have Jay make sure she doesn’t get the chance to interfere.”
Mackenzie wasn’t a Colter? Sam had a hard time coming to grips with that fact, especially after watching the video. How had Mackenzie known where Cheryl had been kidnapped? Had Jay told her? Or had he planned on drugging Mackenzie at the warehouse, but something or someone had changed his mind? Poor Mackenzie. She was staying with her cousin—a cousin who was about to be given an order to kill her. His stomach twisted as his protective side went into high gear.
Then more drawers opened and shut—closer to him this time—drawing his attention back to the fact that at any second, he could be facing three men who wanted him dead.
As the search drew near, Sam’s body started to shift. First his nails grew, and then the hair on the back of his hands sprouted. Changing now would give away his location. Fuck. They’d find him and Brandon for sure, as it was easier to detect another wolf when in animal form.
“Jake, you go outside and keep watch,” the man in charge said. “Damon, check Hood’s bedroom for that computer. We need it.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison.
Sam let out a breath. From the cold, calculating tone of the man, it had to be Statler. The man in charge swore a few times, as if he didn’t find what he was hoping to. Metal banged against metal.
One of the men returned. “Couldn’t find anything in his bedroom, sir.”
For a few seconds, neither said anything. “You smell something?” the leader asked.
Shit. Sam held very still, holding his breath and praying his body didn’t betray him.
“Smells stale, that’s all, sir.”
“Makes sense. Hood might have kept his computer someplace else. I’ll contact the jail tomorrow and ask him where he left it.” Footsteps clicked on the hardwood floors. Sam exhaled at the retreating steps.
He waited until he believed all three of them had left the house. He needed air badly and while his body was aching and sweat covered his back, he remained motionless. Only after a full minute, did Sam’s heart rate return to normal.
No doubt Brandon had heard the entire exchange, too. Voices sounded, but they appeared to come from the front of the house. Fortunately, the office was located in back. Sam peeked out. The office door was open, but he was unable to see clear to the outside.
Sam telepathed to Brandon, not wanting to take the chance one of the men could hear them. You okay? Looks all clear.
As Sam unraveled his body out of the cabinet, Brandon stepped out of his hiding place. Without a word, he glanced down the hallway, and then motioned they get the hell out of there. Sam was all too happy to oblige.
In a flash, they were out the back door. Since they remained in human form, they unlocked the rear gate and scooted out. Once they retrieved their weapons, they edged their way toward the front of the house. A black limousine was still parked in the drive. From all the surveillance they’d done since Cheryl’s disappearance, he knew it belonged to Paul Statler.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Brandon said.
Without incident, they reached their truck. Sam jumped in, keeping the precious laptop on his lap. Brandon did a U-turn and drove away from Hood’s house.
Sam tapped the case. “Let’s hope Hood’s little secrets are on this thing.”
“If not, we’re screwed.”
* * *
“What did you find out about Cheryl?” Jay asked as he tossed his car keys in the tray by the front door next to where she’d put the spare key he’d given her.
“Not much.” Mac told him about the conversation with the cabbie, and then about her phone call to her aunt. “When I visited the law offices where Cheryl had her interview, the secretary was so concerned that she had me speak with Mr. Statler himself.”
His spine straightened. “Oh, yeah? What did he say?” He slipped off his jacket and headed into the kitchen. The refrigerator door banged open, and he returned with a beer to his lips.
“Not much. Just that they had asked Cheryl to come for an interview, but that she never showed.”
“Did they comment about the mix up with the address?”
“Mr. Statler said that his regular secretary had been out sick a few weeks back, and the temp must have made a clerical error.”
“Bummer.”
While Statler’s explanation made sense, something didn’t seem right. “I’m wondering if he told me the whole truth. I found no incoming calls to Cheryl’s cell other than from me and her mom.”
“You hacked into her cell records?” She swore his voice nearly cracked.
“Only a little.”
“That’s illegal, Kenzie.”
She chuckled. “Since when did you turn into a Boy Scout?”
He shrugged, but she swore his eye twitched. “Never, so now what?”
“Tell me this. If you’d asked someone to come for an interview, wouldn’t you have made a follow up call if she didn’t show?”
He shrugged. “I would have, but I can’t vouch for a busy law firm. Maybe Statler decided Cheryl had changed her mind. He might have asked ten people to come in for the interview and assumed that when Cheryl didn’t show, that she’d found another job.”
“I suppose.”
He dropped onto the chair opposite her. “What’s your next step?”
“I don’t have one.” That was what concerned her. She normally could trace a person’s movements and get a clue from that, but Cheryl either hadn’t tried to call someone or her battery died. “She hasn’t made any credit card charges either. She has to eat, right?”
“You said she doesn’t like debt. She could have taken cash out of her bank account. When she ran out, she’d return home.”
“I hope so.” Did Jay fear that she’d stay too long? “I’m not ready to give up, but don’t worry, I’ll find someplace else to crash when Riley returns.”
“Nonsense. You can sleep in my room, and I can crash out here. I often fall asleep watching TV.”
Jay was sweet. “I’ll figure something out when the time comes.” She opened the laptop cover. “I spent some time looking into the newspaper archives to see if Gulfside had any other cases of missing women.”
“Okay. Let’s say there are. Then what? As much as I hate to admit it, missing girls are commonplace down here.”
Jay was too logical. Damn. “When I compile a list, I’ll speak with each of the families to see if I can find a connection between the cases.”
He waved his bottle. “That could take months.”
“I know, but this is Cheryl we’re talking about. If I were ever kidnapped, or God forbid killed, I’d want someone to find out what happened to me.” She leaned back against the sofa. “To speed up the process, I plan to head to Wheels, one of the local bars near the warehouse district, to see if I can learn something.” It was close to where Barbie Lassiter’s body had been found.
“I’ll come with you. It’s not safe.”
“I appreciate that you don’t want anything bad to happen to me, but having a man by my side won’t help me get information. Besides, the sooner I find out something, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”
She told him about the one article she’d found. Mac wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but the body of a twenty-eight year old woman had been found floating in the bay a little over two weeks ago. Reports stated that a Barbie Lassiter was last seen stepping out the back of a strip club where she worked and had never been
heard from again. The report further stated the police had no clues as to the identity of the killer. Had Barbie not washed up near Seaside Drive, Mac would have discounted it as a random murder.
Unfortunately, the article didn’t state the name of the strip club or where Barbie lived.
“You think Barbie Lassiter’s death is related to Cheryl’s disappearance somehow?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping someone at the bar might be able to shed some light on it. In Muncie, if something bad happened near where I hung out, it would be the talk of the bar for months.”
“Fine. Promise me that if you find one bit of evidence that connects Cheryl to any of this that you’ll come to me for help.”
“Sure.”
Jay was such a nice man. If his dad gave a rat’s ass about his son, he’d be proud.
“I’m ordering pizza. You want some?”
“Yes, but I’m paying.”
Jay grinned. While he ordered, Mac set about locating more families who’d had missing daughters. She’d had to search hard for any mention of a kidnapping or a cold case involving a dead woman, but she did come up with a few clues. It would be enough to go on.
Forty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang and Mac jumped up. Time to eat, and then back to more investigating.
Chapter Six
“You ready for this?” Brandon slid out of the truck and waited for Sam.
The smartest thing they’d done was put that tracking device on Mackenzie’s car. If they hadn’t, they never would have found her at Wheels.
His cousin slammed the car door and stalked toward him. Ever since Sam had learned the Colters had set their sights on taking out Mackenzie, he’d been in a foul mood. Never even said a word about how yesterday he was condemning Mackenzie for being a Colter. To him, she’d been guilty by association. To say Sam had a blind spot when it came to them was an understatement. Though if Brandon’s brother had been killed by those fucking wolves, he might have become a hothead, too.