Grave Legacy

by Lori Drake

“Wesley Grant.”

  “Hmm. Name doesn’t ring a bell. I can ask the girls, see if they know of any connections between him and Gina.”

  “I’d appreciate it, thanks. At this point we don’t know if the deaths are related, or even if Wesley’s involved foul play, but it’s a pretty damn big coincidence.”

  Abby nodded. “Sure. I bet your hoity-toity relatives are shitting kittens.”

  Joey smiled grimly. “It’s not pretty. But we’ll cope. Has everything here been quiet since…?”

  “Yeah. Quiet as church, and about as interesting.”

  “Quiet is good, when it means everyone’s breathing. We’re relocating the guests from the hotel to a more secure location. Our house, actually. I’d like to invite you and yours to come too.”

  Abby spared Joey and Sam a thoughtful glance, eyes swinging between the two of them a few times before she answered. “We’re fine here, thanks.”

  Joey’s brow furrowed as she contemplated how to navigate this interaction. Though she’d been prepared to bully the other guests into accepting their hospitality, for some reason, she hesitated to do so with Abby. Maybe because Abby was so much older than her. Or maybe Joey simply wasn’t sure if she could win. In the end, she nodded. “Okay. If you change your mind, the offer is still open.”

  They took their leave not long after that. Joey wanted to get home before the guests started to arrive at the house, especially since Chris was going to be tied up in town for a while.

  “What are you thinking?” Joey asked Sam as they started down the stairs.

  “Something’s off,” he said.

  “I agree.”

  “Miss Grant?” A quiet voice interrupted their conversation and stopped Joey in her tracks.

  Joey turned and found Laura on the stairs behind them. She hadn’t heard the motel room door open, much less the young woman’s approach. Concerning, to say the least. A quick glance at Sam told her he hadn’t either. “Yes?”

  Laura’s yellow-gold eyes met hers and held, but there was no challenge there. Instead, there was a plea echoed by her words. “Please help us.” She paused, moistening her lips, then quickly added, “I know who killed Gina.”

  7

  Chris wasn’t surprised at all by how willing Lucas was to give him a lift. The guy had already proven himself helpful once that morning, but it didn’t make Chris’s misgivings about him fade away. It was his wolf that didn’t trust Lucas, hackles rising whenever he got close. Chris had learned long ago to trust his instincts. They rarely steered him wrong—not where other wolves were concerned, anyway.

  Lucas posed a threat. Chris wasn’t sure how, but as the old adage went… keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe by keeping Lucas close, Chris could figure out what was bothering him about the man.

  Silence had settled between them once their destination was plugged into the car’s GPS. Chris fiddled with the air vents, directing them away from his face so the “eau de rental car” wasn’t being blown straight up his sensitive nose. He didn’t feel much like making small talk. His mind was racing with the concerns of the day, and with so many of them to occupy him, he almost didn’t notice when Lucas asked him a question.

  “Sorry, what was that?”

  “What do you think of Seattle? Your si—uh, Joey—said the family recently relocated,” Lucas said.

  Chris spared him a sideways glance, noting the slip and wondering if it was intentional. “Oh. It’s fine, I guess. Rainy. Really tall trees.”

  Lucas barked a laugh. “I know, right? Jesus, they’re sky high, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah.” It had struck Chris just how tall they were when he’d first arrived, but even after a few months of residence, he rarely thought about it anymore. He let the conversation lull, and after a few minutes of driving in silence, Lucas turned on the radio but kept the volume down low.

  Chris slipped back into thought, and it wasn’t until the GPS started squawking a warning that he realized they’d gone off course. “Did you miss a turn?” He leaned over and peered at the display.

  “Not exactly.” Lucas was paying a lot of attention to the rearview mirror.

  “What’s up?”

  Lucas braked at the last moment and took a hard right without signaling. Chris’s seatbelt locked, keeping him in place as inertia tugged him to the left. Lucas accelerated out of the turn and took a sharp left at the next intersection.

  “Lucas?”

  “We’re being followed.” Lucas was cool as a cucumber as he navigated his way through the unfamiliar streets, ignoring the GPS’s attempts to correct their course as he focused on shaking the tail.

  Chris twisted to look behind them, and sure enough, an unobtrusive gold sedan was trying to keep up. A horn blared as Lucas cut someone off to make another sudden turn. Chris’s pulse hammered in his ears as he watched the sedan follow. Was it the killer? Who else could it be?

  “He’s still back there,” Chris said.

  “I’m aware. Relax, I’ve got this.”

  Relax. That was a tall order. Chris did the best he could, gripping his seatbelt to keep it from choking him every time it locked. Lucas made an illegal U-turn, then ducked down an alley and took a left at the other end. Chris was pushed back in his seat as the car accelerated and Lucas slid up alongside a delivery truck, using it as cover.

  They drove a few more blocks before Lucas said, “I think we’re in the clear.”

  Chris twisted to look behind them again, seeing no sign of the tail. “Do I even want to know how you know how to do that?”

  Lucas chuckled. “I spent twenty years in the CIA.”

  Chris’s head snapped to face Lucas so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Seriously?”

  “No.” Lucas laughed. “But you should see the look on your face. Priceless.”

  Chris groaned and rubbed his face. The adrenaline was fading, leaving him a wee bit shaken.

  “A few years back, I took a business trip to the Middle East. My dad insisted I take an anti-kidnapping class before I went. They taught us how to spot and shake a tail, among other things.”

  “Huh. That does sound pretty useful.”

  “That’s the first time I’ve had to use what I learned, actually. Guess some of it stuck with me.” Lucas glanced at Chris, smiling.

  “What does your dad like to drink? I think I need to send him a bottle of something.”

  “Seventy years sober, if you can believe it. But he does like a good cigar.”

  “Consider it done.” Granted, Chris wouldn’t know a good cigar from a bad one. They all smelled awful to him, and he wasn’t sure how any wolf could handle having the smoke around constantly. “I don’t remember meeting your dad. Is he in town?”

  “No, but he sent his regards.”

  Strange. The visiting guests skewed older, and Chris wondered why Lucas felt a need to attend but his father did not. “Did you know my mom well?”

  “Never had the honor of meeting her, I’m afraid.”

  Chris’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. Pardon my bluntness, but… what the fuck are you doing here, then?”

  “Seemed like a good opportunity to network?”

  Chris snorted. “Try again.”

  “My father sent me. He’s getting on in years, doesn’t travel so well anymore, but he wanted to pay his respects.”

  “Ah.”

  “I was also curious.”

  “Curious about what?”

  “What the youngest Alpha in North America is like.”

  Joey. A knot formed in Chris’s stomach. He was unworried about rivals for her affection, but that didn’t mean he liked them sniffing around. “Come on, man. She’s only a few months younger than me. What’s the big deal?”

  Lucas glanced at him, smiling faintly. “Oh, you’re a subject of curiosity now too, but I didn’t know about you or your pack. I don’t think anyone did.”

  Of course they wouldn’t. Chris’s pack was full of castoffs, not one of the old guard. W
ere he and Joey truly the youngest Alphas in North America, or just the only ones that “mattered”? He grunted noncommittally and shook his head. “I’m sure the novelty will wear off quickly.”

  “We’ll see.”

  They pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later. Chris directed Lucas around to the back of the building and breathed a sigh of relief when the ambulance was still there, waiting. It’d taken him much longer to get there than he would’ve liked. Judging from the way the uniformed woman leaning against the back of the ambulance checked her watch as they pulled up, it’d been longer than she would’ve liked, too.

  Chris hopped out of the car and hurried toward her with long strides and an apology on the tip of his tongue.

  “You Chris?” she asked, straightening.

  He nodded. “Sorry about the delay. I got here as soon as I could.”

  “You have five minutes.” She opened up the back, then walked around to the front of the rig and got into the passenger seat.

  Chris glanced over his shoulder, finding Lucas sauntering over to join him. He considered telling Lucas to wait in the car, but didn’t have time to argue with him about it. So he climbed into the back of the ambulance and called Ben instead.

  His brother picked up on the first ring. “You there yet?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got five minutes to do this. What am I looking for?” Chris settled on the bench across from the gurney and held the phone with his shoulder while he leaned over to unzip the body bag. The scent of chlorine and defecation wafted out, leaving him suddenly glad he hadn’t had breakfast yet.

  “Anything the cops might’ve missed,” Ben said.

  “Can you be more specific?” Chris ignored Lucas as he joined him on the bench, leaning over to push the halves of the body bag farther open. Swallowing bile, he made himself look at Wesley Grant’s pale face. His lips were tinged blue and his blonde hair was still wet, plastered awkwardly across his forehead however it’d fallen when they’d pulled him out of the pool.

  “Wounds—no matter how small, especially ones that are partially healed,” Ben said. “The cops will think they’re too old to be relevant, but he might’ve healed some before he died. And put on some gloves before you touch him.”

  Chris grabbed a pair of latex gloves from a convenient box and pulled them on, then began examining the body. “There’s a bruise on his neck, but it’s pretty faint.”

  “How big?”

  “Nickel-sized, maybe?”

  “Interesting. Anything else? Open his mouth and take a whiff.”

  Chris blinked. “What?” He glanced at Lucas, who was observing in silence. Judging from his puzzled expression, he could hear Ben’s half of the conversation just fine.

  “See if you can smell alcohol, or anything else. Anything medicinal or nutty.”

  Putting his sensitive nose any closer to the dead man wasn’t something Chris much cared to do, but he steeled himself to do it anyway. This was what being Alpha meant at times. Taking care of the nitty-gritty. He opened Wesley’s mouth and leaned down for a sniff. The harsh pool chemicals burned his nostrils. “There’s maybe a hint of alcohol, but the chlorine is pretty overpowering. I can’t really smell anything else. Well, besides the shit and piss.”

  “In his mouth?” Ben sounded surprised.

  Lucas snickered quietly, but Chris silenced him with a look. “No, in general.”

  “Ah, got it. Well, just do the best you can. Check his back too.”

  The female EMT’s voice drifted back from the front. “Two minutes.”

  “Hurry,” Ben said, though it hardly needed to be said at that point.

  Chris enlisted Lucas’s help in shifting the body onto one side so they could inspect its back, then settling it back down again. “I don’t see anything, Ben. Is there anything else we can do?”

  “Yeah, get a vial of blood from his arm. But be quiet about it. If Becca catches wind of what you’re doing, she’ll intervene. There should be some syringes in a drawer across from you.”

  There were, in fact, half a dozen drawers. Chris leaned over and slid them open as quietly as he could, one by one, until he found the one with the syringes. Unfortunately, they were wrapped in sterile packaging that he’d have to tear open somehow without alerting the techs up front to what he was doing.

  Lucas seemed to catch on to the dilemma. He stood, hunched over since there wasn’t room to stand, and squeezed past Chris to get to the space immediately behind and between the front seats. His broad shoulders blocked the view rather effectively.

  “Hey, what’s this job like, really? I’m considering a career change.”

  Chris swallowed a laugh. Horse breeder to EMT—that’d be quite a change. Then again, Ben had been an optician before he decided he wanted to get into the lifesaving business. While Lucas distracted the crew, Chris tore open the syringe as quietly as possible, then had Ben talk him through drawing the blood and swapped the needle for a screw cap when it was done.

  “Now what?” Chris said.

  “Zip up and get out of there. Bring me the sample.”

  “Okay, see you soon.” Chris hung up and looked down at Wesley Grant’s lifeless face once more. Guilt tugged at him, though he told himself it was unwarranted. No one could have predicted this. Whatever this was.

  “Time’s up!” Becca called, bringing an abrupt halt to the conversation Lucas had been having with her and her partner.

  Chris quickly zipped up the body bag and climbed out of the back, palming the syringe to keep it out of sight. Becca came through the back to close the doors rather than getting out and going around.

  “Thanks, Becca. Ben owes you one.”

  The EMT smirked. “Damn right he does.” The ambulance pulled away as soon as the doors were shut, leaving Chris and Lucas standing in the parking lot beside the rental car.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Chris said, offering Lucas a handshake.

  Lucas shook his hand firmly, then pulled him closer and smacked his shoulder with his other hand. “No problem. We’re practically family, right?”

  “Practically,” Chris murmured, glancing down at the syringe in his hand.

  “Do we need to drop that off somewhere?”

  “Nah, Ben’s going to take care of it. Let’s head back to the house.” He turned to walk back to the car, but Lucas’s hand fell heavy on his shoulder. Chris looked back.

  “Level with me, man. What’s really going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Chris asked, calling on his dance training to keep his expression neutral.

  “Farm Boy’s dead, you’re playing CSI in the back of an ambulance, and we had to shake a tail on the way here. This wasn’t an accident, was it?”

  Chris hesitated. Lucas had been pretty good-natured about this so far. Chris couldn’t blame him for getting curious, but he still didn’t trust him. “We’re not going to make any assumptions until we can rule out foul play.”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. I’ll play mushroom for now, but there are two ways this plays out, and I want you to think about which side you want me on.”

  Chris watched him walk around the car to the driver’s side, continuing his own approach to the car somewhat belatedly. “Mushroom?” he asked as he climbed inside.

  Lucas started the car and smirked at him. “Kept in the dark and fed bullshit.”

  Joey took a deep breath in a last-ditch effort to calm her temper, then announced her return with a boot to the door. The flimsy motel doorframe splintered, and the door banged loudly against the wall. Joey strode into the dingy room with fire in her belly and murder on her mind. So much for calming down.

  Abby leaped from the bed, landing in a fighting stance, but blinked when Joey marched into the room. “Joey? What the fuck?”

  Joey advanced on her at an unhurried but deliberate pace. Their eyes met, and whatever Abby saw there made her retreat. She backed up until she bumped into the nightstand, then skittered aside until she could press her back to the wall
. Joey’s wolf capered, gleeful to have cornered her prey, but Joey didn’t go for her throat. Not literally, anyway. She stopped barely a foot away, pinning the older wolf with her gaze despite being at both a height and age disadvantage.

  “You brought a hunter into my territory,” Joey said, surprised that her voice came out so controlled, considering it was taking a significant effort not to growl. Abby’s eyes narrowed and darted to the door, but Joey lashed out and grabbed her chin. “Explain yourself.”

  Abby’s eyes hardened, and she yanked her chin from Joey’s grasp. She was an alpha, and a strong one. Joey had caught her off guard, but she wasn’t completely cowed. “Out of respect for your mother, I’m going to chalk this temper tantrum up to the uncertain floundering of a young Alpha trying to find her footing.”

  Between last night and this morning, Joey’d had more than enough of her “elders” questioning her fitness for the Alpha’s mantle. “Out of respect for my mother, and the long friendship you had, I’m not going to run you out of town like a mangy stray.”

  “You think you can manage that, girl?”

  Joey said nothing, just stared into Abby’s belligerent eyes. The heat of Joey’s fury was slowly eclipsed by stone-cold resolve, backed by her wolf’s innate dominance.

  The contest of wills didn’t last more than a few seconds. Abby lowered her eyes, though a faint smile curved her lips. “Goddamn, you’ve got a lot of your momma in you.”

  Joey didn’t feel like smiling. She folded her arms and drummed her fingers against her bicep. “Still waiting for that explanation.”

  Abby scrubbed her fingers through her short gray hair, nostrils flaring. “Give me a little breathing room, please.”

  Joey took a single step back.

  “Thanks.” Abby shook her head as if to clear it.

  Joey knew that feeling well enough from going toe to toe with her mother for the last twenty-six years. Alpha dominance was a bitch. She gave Abby a few more moments to collect her thoughts, then cleared her throat.

  “The trouble started about six months back, in Tulsa. I still don’t know how we got on his radar. Christ, I’ve been racking my brain ever since. Lost two girls that first night. We tried to track him down, but there were traps all over the woods. He escaped, and we left town. I thought that’d be the end of it, but two weeks later, he struck again in Colorado.” Abby bent to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and shook one into her hand. She paused long enough to light it, drawing the smoke deep into her lungs before blowing it out in a steady stream. “Then in Arizona. California. Oregon…”