by Sierra Dean
My annoyance over his behavior faded a little. I wouldn’t be at my sweetest if someone were calling me names favored by slave-owning racists over a hundred years ago. I’d heard some of Hank’s favorite derogatory terms. If I’d been on the receiving end of any of them, I would want to leave him here to rot.
Cash forced a small smile and nodded in answer to Wilder’s question. “He seems to be in good shape. I’m not sure how his treatment has been—he looked a bit bruised—but he’s otherwise okay.”
He was in jail and charged with murder, but at least he wasn’t dead. It wasn’t the most ideal outcome, but I felt like we were a step ahead of where we’d been the night before. Hank was alive, and that was a small mercy.
“I don’t think I need to tell you guys how serious this whole thing is. The story hasn’t broken yet, but when the media hears that a werewolf killed a pretty young woman… Especially a werewolf as charming as your brother? It’s not going to look good.”
“That’s the whole point.” I sighed. If we were going to make any kind of progress, Cash would need all the details.
I filled him in on everything that had happened after I left the previous morning. I told him about almost being driven off the road, and the video Timothy Deerling had sent Callum. Any time Wilder felt I’d left something out or hadn’t gotten the details right, he interjected, but otherwise he let me tell the whole story.
It took me close to twenty minutes to cover everything, and throughout my narrative Cash said nothing. He sat back in his chair and shifted his attention from me to Wilder, occasionally taking a moment to write something in his notebook. He managed to fill two or three pages without actually saying a word.
I finished by telling him what I’d said to McGraw, and the little tidbits Josie had let slip to me during our brief chats.
“And how about you?” Cash asked Wilder. “What’s your experience been like since they locked you up?”
“They roughed me up when they first brought me in, but I’m guessing you saw what I did to that one deputy.”
“Anderson, yeah. He’s pretty insistent on pressing charges for that.”
Wilder nodded. He must have been expecting it. I suspected if Anderson said he’d let the whole thing drop for an apology, Wilder would take the criminal record instead.
“You know battery on a police officer is a felony, right? You could go to prison.” When Wilder didn’t reply, Cash continued, “I’ll work on getting the charges dropped, based on the circumstances. We’ll see how amenable they are, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. I think I can argue that they took you by surprise and you were trying to defend yourself and Genie. Maybe if I can shift some blame, they’ll change their tune.”
“The princess can defend herself,” Wilder muttered.
I suppressed a smile. Cash maintained an impassive frown.
“Be that as it may, I’ll take the arguments where I can get them. I think they’re more interested in Hank anyway. Ideally I’d like to see them drop all charges against you and Genie, and in my brief discussion with Sheriff McGraw he implied they might be willing to do just that, provided you two get out of town.”
“That’s amazing.” I knew I should have sounded happier, but there were a dozen different but replies coming to mind.
Wilder voiced one of them for me. “I’m not leaving without Hank.”
We couldn’t leave Hank here. Not knowing what they’d done to him. But we also couldn’t help him if we were in jail with him.
“I think the sheriff is in on it,” I announced. “If we can make him think we’re leaving, we might be able to work the case from nearby.” I looked at Wilder. “We passed a motel not too far from here. If we set up there, we could find out what Timothy is up—”
“No.” Cash held up a hand and shook his head emphatically. “I’m not getting you out of here just so you can turn around and get in even more trouble. Jesus, Genie, what’s gotten into you? You’re not acting like yourself at all. The girl I know would take a pardon, say thank you and go right back to her normal life. How can you possibly think this is a good idea?”
“Hank is pack.”
“Hank is a bigoted asshole.” He looked at Wilder. “No offense.”
“He’s been called worse.”
Cash continued, “My point is, you don’t owe that guy anything. The evidence is stacked against him. And I’ll try to help, even though it goes against all my better judgment, but you’re both done with this. You’re not going to stalk around the parish like Nancy Drew and one of the Hardy Boys. You’re not detectives, and you…” this was directed to me, “…you’re not your sister.”
Those words stung. I was used to getting compared to Secret on a regular basis, but coming from Cash it hurt worse. No, I wasn’t my sister. I didn’t have the power of the federal government at my back, or the ear of the highest powers in the vampire and werewolf communities.
I didn’t need to be my sister.
Being me should be enough.
What hurt worse about the statement was that Cash clearly didn’t think I was capable of being a leader, or helping protect my people. Those were both Secret trademarks.
“Hank is pack. I don’t need to like him to do right by him. Pack is deeper than family. You can abandon your family, but you can’t abandon pack.” I crossed my arms and matched his serious look with one of my own. I didn’t want to act snotty with him, but I wasn’t going to let him insult me, either.
“You don’t lead the pack. Hank isn’t your responsibility.”
“If I pass the buck in a situation like this, I don’t deserve to ever lead the pack.”
“I thought you didn’t want to, isn’t that what you told me? You said you wanted a normal life, and you wanted your brother to lead the pack.” Every time he said pack he made a face like he was biting into something sour.
Since this was neither the time nor the place to explain my plans for the future—especially since I didn’t know what they were yet—I avoided his comment. But I couldn’t help but notice Wilder had taken a keen interest in what was being said between Cash and me.
Great, now I had a pack subordinate who knew I’d put my support behind Ben. I wish Cash knew what kind of corner he’d just painted me into.
“Is that why you didn’t call your uncle?” Cash asked. “Because of some misguided idea you need to be able to save Hank on your own? Don’t you think your pack leader deserves to know what kind of a disaster he’s about to be involved in? I never thought of you as selfish before.”
Wow.
Not only was he sticking the knife in today, he was determined to twist it as many times as he could.
That was me, Selfish Genie, hoarding all the problems to myself.
Too bad he was also kind of right. I should tell Callum everything, especially now that my initial plan had failed. We had Hank…sort of. Maybe it was time to call in the cavalry and admit this was too much for me to deal with.
“Hey,” Wilder interjected. “That’s enough. The only reason she’s here to begin with was so she could help me. She figured by coming along she could keep me from doing anything too stupid.”
Cash shut his notebook and got to his feet. “Too bad she wasted her time, then.”
Chapter Nineteen
True to his word, Cash had me out of jail by the end of the day.
Just me.
He was on the sidewalk outside the sheriff’s department, leaning against his car, when I walked out. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him appear the part of a lawyer quite so much before. With his suit jacket over dark indigo jeans and his white button-down shirt unbuttoned just so, he looked amazing.
It took him a moment to acknowledge me, he was so busy talking animatedly on his cell. I got the vibe it wasn’t a social call. I stopped next to him and waited…and waited some more. After a minute he nodded at me, letting me know he at least recognized I had arrived.
“No, listen to
me. What I’m saying is there’s a case here that could be groundbreaking, all right? It’s not just a murder case. This could be the first really meaningful public trial of a werewolf. If you’re telling me that’s not something you want to be a part of, then maybe you’re not as serious about your career as I thought you were.”
I made a face. Getting backup, especially if it was from an established lawyer, would be beneficial to us. But I didn’t like the way he was talking about Hank’s case as if it didn’t matter which way it went, as long as he and this other party were involved.
Cash had never struck me as the kind of guy who was into his profession for all the fame and glory, but maybe I was wrong. I was beginning to wonder how well Cash and I really knew each other, even after all this time.
“Fine, great. I have a place booked at this little motel outside Franklinton. Total dive, but it’s the best I could do.” There was a long pause. “No, not like a Best Western dive, more like that hotel from Psycho.”
“The Bates Motel,” I supplied. Cash ignored me.
“Yeah, see you in a couple hours.” He hung up and as if out of habit leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Hey, baby.”
“You couldn’t get Wilder out?”
His hand balled into a fist and then he released it, shaking his head like he wanted to say something and thought better of it. “I’m still working on it, but the deputy he hit isn’t in a forgiving mood. Apparently having his nose broken didn’t make him feel too charitable.”
Anderson had taken a direct hit to the face from an Alpha werewolf. That he only had a broken nose meant Wilder had been downright gentle with him. He could very well be in a coma right now if Wilder had hit him with real intent. I wondered if Anderson would appreciate the difference if someone explained it to him.
Hey, he could have killed you, consider yourself lucky! might not be the best way to get Wilder out of jail.
“Look,” Cash said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m trying my best. But the cops aren’t thrilled about the idea of letting the potentially violent brother of an alleged murderer out of jail. Can you blame them?”
“Sure, because they’re using that as an excuse to cover up a giant conspiracy.” As soon as I said it I knew how crazy it sounded. Even to my ears it was something an insane person would say, but I knew it was true.
He either ignored me or was saving his response for a better time. “Matt, the assistant professor from my paranormal law class, is coming down. He’s an associate at a law firm in the city that deals with supernaturally related cases. You know, vampire estate law and that sort of thing.”
Vampire. Estate. Law.
“Has he ever worked a criminal case before?”
“Nothing of this magnitude. There hasn’t been anything of this magnitude before. I’m sure werewolves have killed people before, but it’s never been public like this.”
“This isn’t public yet.”
“It will be.”
He was right. There was no way we were going to be able to sweep this under the rug. What was worse, he was also right about it being time to call Callum. I hadn’t been gone long, but in the time since I’d left home so much had happened. It was pretty remarkable, actually, getting into this much trouble in no time at all. Maybe it was a McQueen thing. If so, I was doing the family proud.
“Come on, I rented a room at that place you mentioned. It’s not much to look at, but it’s clean according to the bedbug registry, so I’ll take what I can get.”
“I slept on a cot in a drunk tank last night. The idea of a real bed sounds glorious.” What I didn’t tell him was how grateful I was for his choice of location. He could have chosen a town farther away, but his desire for convenience meant I got to stay close to Franklinton. And while Cash worked on getting Wilder free and planned Hank’s defense, I would be able to poke around and find out what was really going on.
I opened the plastic baggy the desk clerk had given me and pulled out my phone, relieved to see it still had some battery, even after all I’d used it for. My portable charger was worth its weight in gold. I had dozens of missed calls and texts, but as I went to check them my ink-stained fingertips caught my attention. I stared at them for a second, wondering how it had come to this.
I had come awfully close to having a criminal record, and my fingerprints were in the database now. Forever and ever I would know I’d been arrested. Cash was right, this wasn’t the person I had been before, not even a few weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if I liked this version of myself better or worse. It was just…different.
On the way to the hotel we stopped at a drive thru and got some burgers that were so greasy their paper wrappers were clear by the time we got to our room. I sat on the edge of the bed, the generic paisley print comforter crinkling in a peculiar way underneath me, and ate my burger while Cash made more phone calls. The whole time he acted like I wasn’t in the room. When he left to take a call outside, I abandoned my cooling fries and pulled out my own cell, dialing Callum’s office number from speed dial.
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
Oh, he’d definitely noticed I was missing then.
“Franklinton.”
I heard him say something to someone else before he spoke again. “I’m sending Ben to come get you. Stay where you are.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Well…yes, I’m staying where I am, but no you’re not sending Ben. I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need someone to come in and rescue me.”
“Did Wilder force you to go?” His voice was low and trembled with menace. I was glad Wilder wasn’t around to hear it because the implied threat was frightening even to me.
“No. Of course not.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I barked a laugh. “That’s insane. He didn’t lay a finger on me. I swear I left of my own free will. Didn’t you get my note?”
The line filled with chilly silence. “A note is not acceptable, Eugenia. A note is not how we communicate in this household.”
“No, we communicate by sending out underlings to do our dirty work. We communicate by making Amelia call to tell me you’re worried. That’s how things get done in the McQueen household, isn’t it?”
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked.
I was getting tired of people implying my behavior was so alarming to them. This was just me speaking up for myself. That it bothered everyone so much said they were used to me letting them have their way. Well not anymore.
“I came here to do what you should have done. I came with Wilder to help a member of our pack, and it’s a damn good thing I did, because now at least one of us knows what’s really happening out here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The public spectacle Deerling warned us about? It wasn’t killing Hank. I don’t think he ever intended on a public execution. He’s using Hank as a scapegoat for his cause. A woman is dead, Hank is being charged, and pretty soon the whole world is going to think werewolves are bloodthirsty monsters who can’t be trusted. The Church is going to get exactly what they wanted out of this. Maureen Cranston and CAPA are getting Christmas early this year.”
This time when Callum went quiet I could practically hear the gears in his brain going. That was a good sign. It meant he wasn’t jumping straight back to dragging me home. There was a chance—however small—he might put some faith in me.
“Hank has been arrested?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“But he’s alive.”
“Yes.”
A sigh, though I wasn’t sure if it was from stress or relief. I chose to believe it was the latter.
“Where’s Wilder? Is he with you?”
“See… I’m going to tell you something, and some day you’re going to think it’s funny, but right now isn’t that day.”
“There are very few things I find funny, even through the lens of hindsight.”
Better just to jump in headfirst then. “Wilder is also in jail right now.”
“For what?”
“He might have punched a sheriff’s deputy and broken the guy’s nose.”
“And why would he punch a deputy?”
“Because we were getting arrested at the time.”
“Eugenia.”
“Sorry, should my imprisonment have been the headline? A lot has happened in the last couple days.”
“Are you still there?”
And calling you from my jail cell? “No, Cash got me out. I was only booked for trespassing. Apparently Deerling decided not to press charges. I guess he doesn’t need misdemeanor wolf crime when he has a Class A Felony to flash in front of the press.”
“Cash? You called your human boyfriend before calling me?”
“He specializes in supernatural law.”
“He’s human. And more importantly, in case it slipped your mind, he’s a law student and not an actual lawyer. My God, at any point during this ordeal did you actually stop to use your head? Even once?”
“I saw what Deerling and his people did to the girl. I know what they’re up to. That has to count for something.”
“The word of one werewolf—who now has a criminal record—against a church leader. Let that sink in for a minute.”
“They didn’t press charges. I don’t have a criminal record. And Deerling is a religious leader for a group of well known zealots and whose hatred of the supernatural population is documented on the public record. It’s not out of the question people might believe my side of it, especially considering it’s the truth.”
“Truth has no place in the court of public opinion. Why do you think we stayed hidden so long? This is all they need, this one sliver of evidence however tenuous. Once the world believes we’re monsters, they’ll never stop believing it.”
“Humans kill each other every day,” I pointed out.