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Howling for Revenge_A Cori Sloane Witchy Werewolf Mystery

Page 5

by Tegan Maher


  "And what are some of the things that you hadn't agreed about lately?"

  If he was innocent, I was kind of digging my thumb in the raw wound, but I needed to see how he responded. Because of the shady circumstances, there was no way I could eliminate him as a suspect yet. In fact, if I found out he'd so much as stood in line for coffee with one of the other victims, I was going to haul him in.

  He shifted uncomfortably, then sighed. "She wanted to meet my family and accused me of being ashamed of her when in fact ..."

  He didn't have to say any more. I'm sure he knew I understood where he was going with it. Most packs didn't condone relationships with humans; it was even possible that one of his pack members eliminated the threat.

  I looked at him pointedly. "Well, I'm going to need your family's information."

  He locked gazes with me, his icy blue eyes unwavering. "I assure you that's not necessary."

  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist." I could play this game.

  Amanda had sensed an underlying meaning to the conversation and was watching us volley back and forth, confused. "Why would you need to speak with his family?"

  I didn't break eye contact with him. "It's standard protocol," I replied, and from the way he drew his brows together, he knew I was referring to the fact that he hadn't checked in with me.

  The poor girl, however, was completely lost. "It is? Why? They hadn't even met Tabbie. Or been to Castle's Bluff, for that matter. Have they, Billy?"

  "No, they haven't," he replied, refusing to be the first to look away. The visual power struggle is a wolf thing. He—or she—who looks away first submits. As the rebellious daughter of elder members of my pack, I wasn't used to being challenged, and there was no way I was backing down from this. He was in the wrong, and this was my town. I'm not a stickler, but some rules exist for a reason.

  He heaved a huge sigh and looked away. That was all I needed; he acknowledged my position. There was nothing else to be done in front of a human.

  "Have you found any connection between Tabbie and the other ... person?" he asked.

  "Yeah, we heard the other woman looks just like her. Is that true?" Amanda was on the edge of the couch now.

  I was reluctant to give away too much because I didn't want to start a panic among blonde female runners, but it wouldn't hurt to answer this. They pictures were public.

  "Yes. They really could have passed for sisters, though we're not sure if that's coincidence or not yet."

  "When will you know? Do you think there will be more?" Amanda's eyes were a little wild as the thought settled in.

  "I certainly hope not. We're still early in the investigation, but we're following up on several leads." I shot Billy a weighted look. "Did either of you happen to know the first victim?"

  Amanda shook her head.

  "No, I didn't," Billy said. "But good luck with those leads. I hope you find some useful information, Sheriff," he replied in reference to his family, though he sounded more tired than sarcastic. He pushed himself up from the couch, wincing as he did so. "If there's nothing else we can do for you, I need to get ready for work."

  I stood as well, not wanting to give him the advantage of standing over me. I tried one last time to catch his scent, but he'd put several feet between us when he'd gotten up. I got the distinct impression that it was intentional.

  "There's nothing else for now. Here's my business card." I laid it on the bar that separated the kitchen when it became apparent that he wasn't going to take it. "It has my cell number on it. Please feel free to call me." In other words, when you're not around humans, you better give me your 411.

  He nodded once. "Thanks, Sheriff. I'll do that."

  Just to make sure I could find him, I took both their numbers. I thanked them both and offered my condolences, then locked eyes with him again. "Talk soon." When he looked down right away, I turned to Amanda. "I really am sorry for your loss."

  "Thanks," she said with a wobbly smile.

  "Sheriff?" Billy said when I was reaching for the door.

  "Yes?"

  "I was planning to ask her to marry me the night she died." His voice cracked, and unwanted sympathy washed over me. It could just as easily have been from regret as from sadness.

  I already knew he'd supposedly been home alone that night, waiting for her to get back from her run, so he had no alibi. Still, his words had a ring of truth to them. I searched his face for a lie, but all I saw was the truth. What a hot mess.

  I took a deep breath of fresh air as soon as I stepped outside; I was pretty sure I'd breathed in enough fumes to fail a drug test. The visit had given me lots to think about, and I picked up my cell to call my cousin Dani, who was a PI a couple of towns over. We'd been tight our whole lives and I knew she wouldn't rat me out to Mom and Dad.

  She assured me she'd start looking into Billy right away. I could hardly wait to find out what he was hiding.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN I LEFT BILLY'S, I drove around for a bit, just trying to think. I was at a dead end. I pulled over at a spot that had a great view of the lake and bounced my forehead off the steering wheel.

  I needed to go to the diner and talk to Dana, the owner. She was one of the best judges of character I knew, and if something was off between Tabbie and Billy, she'd be the one most likely to have noticed.

  As luck would have it, I was on the right side of town; the diner was only a few miles away. I swung around and headed that way, and when I pulled into the gravel lot, I was glad to see it was mostly empty. The dinner rush hadn't started yet.

  The rush of cool air when I walked through the single door felt great, and the smells of bacon grease and coffee made my stomach growl even though I'd just gorged myself at Sully's an hour before. Dana was bent down behind the counter arranging the display of desserts in the pie case underneath it.

  She glanced up when the little bell on the door jangled and smiled when she saw me.

  Standing and smoothing her server's apron, she grinned. Though she was in her mid-fifties, she looked closer to forty—one of the benefits of being a fox shifter. Her red hair had only a few streaks of silver and her face was classically pretty with just the beginnings of crow's feet around her amber eyes.

  "Cori!" she said, coming around the counter. "What a pleasant surprise—I haven't seen you in a few weeks." She tilted her head. "You better not be cheating on me with another diner!"

  Smiling, I gave her a quick hug. She and my aunt Carol went way back, and I'd known her all my life. "Absolutely not. I know better than to bite the hand that feeds me."

  "So what brings you by today? I smell Sully's on you. Since it's too early to drink, I'm assuming you've already eaten." The smile slid from her face and sadness reflected in her eyes as realization dawned. "You want to talk about Tabbie."

  "Yeah," I said. "If you can think of anything at all, that would be great. I've hit a brick wall."

  She glanced at the two tables that had guests, then motioned me over to a small booth in the far corner.

  I chose the side facing the door, and she slid onto the bench across from me. "What would you like to know?"

  Starting with the most obvious, I asked, "What do you know about Billy? How did they get along?"

  Crinkling her brow, she said, "Normally, they were peas and carrots. They had a huge fight a couple of days before ..." she sniffed, and her eyes filled with tears. "Before she was killed."

  I raised my brows. Billy had failed to mention that. "Any idea what it was about?"

  "Yeah. She wanted to meet his family, but he kept telling her it was complicated." She pinched her lips together. "I assume you know he was a werewolf, right?"

  "I do now, but I didn't until Sully told me a little bit ago."

  She crinkled her brow. "That's odd. He seems like a good kid. I'm surprised he didn't check in with you."

  I shrugged. "I have no idea, but Dani's checking into him. We need to find out what pack he's from. It's strange that he'd st
ray, and even weirder that he avoided me. He was jumpy when I went to see him."

  She took a deep breath. "I hate to say it, but you know there are only a couple of reasons he'd do that."

  "Yeah," I said. "He's excommunicated or hiding and there aren't too many good reasons for either scenario."

  She fiddled with the sugar caddy, straightening all the packets. "I don't want to believe it of him, but I guess that's what folks always say about a murderer after the fact."

  "That's for sure." I thought of how earnest the kid had looked and a shard of doubt shot through me. "But don't write him off just yet." There was at least a fifty-fifty chance he was guilty, but if he wasn't, I didn't want to ostracize him from his support system.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I WAS JUST A FEW MINUTES from home when Mom called again. Taking a big breath and releasing it, I decided avoiding her would just make matters worse. She could be like a dog with a bone, pardon the pun. I pulled off the road into a wide spot.

  Sliding to answer, I did my best to sound positive. "Hi Mom. How are you and dad?"

  My attitude must have caught her off guard because she paused for a second. To be fair, I wasn't usually so cheerful when she called. We had very different views on life, and our relationship was more cordial than loving. I was definitely a daddy's girl.

  "We're better than you are," she said, her voice tinged with judgment. "I heard you had another murder. Please tell me you know who did it and you have the situation contained."

  I ran my tongue over my teeth. "I'm all over it, Mom."

  "That's not an answer. Have you caught and dealt with the murderer?"

  "No," I said, grudgingly giving up the pretense. It wasn't like she didn't know exactly what was going on anyway. "So far, he's like a ghost." I didn't want to bring Billy's name into it yet, both for his sake and mine.

  "So I've heard, but there's no such thing as a murderous ghost." She paused, and I knew I wasn't going to like whatever she said next. "Your father and I have decided to send you some help."

  I bristled. Anybody my mother chose would likely come in believing they were sent to do a job I couldn't.

  "I assure you, that's not necessary," I said, thinking of Sully's suggestion to bring together the local shifters. That would be better than having my parents intervene.

  "We believe it is." She dropped all pretense of mother-daughter concern. "The bottom line, Cordelia, is that we can't afford to appear weak on any front. Pack politics are ... volatile right now. The person we're sending is discreet and loyal. He'll help resolve the issue, then you'll be left to your own devices again."

  Resigned, I tried one last time, even though I knew the decision had been made. "And there's no way I can talk you out of this?"

  "No. The arrangements have already been made. His name is Alexander Dixon and he'll be there tomorrow."

  I racked my brain trying to place the name. Our pack was large, but not so big that I hadn't at least heard the family names. "Who is he?"

  "Not that it matters, but he's only been in the area for a couple of years. He's proven himself useful and appreciates the delicacy of the situation."

  "All right then," I said, resigned.

  "We're on your side, Cordelia, but this needs resolved. We need strength on all fronts."

  "Yeah," I said, irritated that this was all about politics to her. "And I need innocent women to stop dying in my town."

  "Then it sounds as if our goals align." She sighed and her "I'm not a monster, Cori, but what you have running loose down there is. Politics aside, I really am on your side and I'm sorry you feel we don't trust you to handle this."

  Though it grated to admit it, I had no idea where to go next, and if my mother had handpicked somebody, it was a fair bet my odds of catching this guy just improved. I needed to set my personal issues with her aside and do whatever it took to keep anyone else from dying. That didn't mean I had to like it, though.

  Before I pulled back onto the road, I pulled up a name and hit send. If there was already one extra man stepping up, I may as well call in the whole cavalry.

  It only rang twice before somebody answered.

  "Yeah, Sully? How soon can you call a den council meeting?"

  KAT WAS UP WHEN I GOT home, which was unusual considering it was still early afternoon. I tossed my purse on the entry table, then plopped down beside her on the couch, scooching a scowling Chaos over to make room.

  "Hey! Glad you're up. It seems like I haven't talked to you in a week," I said.

  She smiled back, her perfect teeth gleaming against her olive complexion, but behind the smile, she looked concerned. "You haven't seen anybody in over a week. I know you're busy with these murders, but you have to take some time out."

  I waved her off. "I'll have plenty of time to chill when this case is over. Right now, it just wouldn't feel right having fun while he's out there."

  "Cori, you can't do this," she said, turning toward me on the couch and drawing her perfectly arched brows together. "You have to strike a balance or else you'll lose yourself. I know it's horrible. But for now, what do you have? What are you doing tonight that could possibly lead you to him?"

  Shaking my head, I huffed out a frustrated breath and dropped my head back on the cushion. "Nothing. I've got nothing. No ideas, no suspects, not a clue. I just keep running the case through my head. I know I've missed something, but damned if I know what."

  "Then you need to stop. Give your brain a break. Right now you're on a loop, and you need to look at it with fresh eyes."

  The call with Mom popped into my head and I pressed my lips together.

  "What?" she asked when I went quiet.

  "Mom's sending me help," I said, putting it in air quotes. "He'll be here tomorrow."

  Kat chewed on her lip. "Well then," she said, "even more reason to go out. Take an evening to chill before your mom's minion shows up and steals your sunshine."

  She had a point. Not that I hadn't had my nose to the grindstone since the beginning, but this guy would be reporting my every move to my mother. When the corner of my mouth tipped up in a half smile, she knew she'd won.

  She fist-pumped and grinned. "Yes! I was hoping you'd cave. I pulled together a girls' night, but was afraid you'd miss it, since you blew me off last week."

  I rolled my eyes. "I didn't blow you off."

  She waved a hand. "You totally blew me off. But that doesn't matter. You're coming tonight!"

  The idea of getting together with the group and having some fun and a couple glasses of wine was appealing, though I felt guilty about having fun while there was a murderer on the loose.

  "So who's going?" I asked, pushing the guilt aside. Kat was right; my brain was on a loop and I needed to break the pattern.

  Our group was small because neither Kat nor I were huge people people. We had a regular group that we hung out with, but not everybody always showed.

  Scarlett, another werewolf and a stay-at-home mom, had been my friend since grade school, though we'd drifted apart some since she'd had kids.

  Monica, a healing witch who'd moved to Castle's Bluff several years before and opened up a shop called Mystic Treasures, was of indeterminate age but looked to be in her early thirties.

  Finally, Rissa was an accountant for supernaturals and was a vampire. We didn't see as much of her since she found a steady boyfriend a few months back.

  "That's the best part—so far, everybody. Can you believe it?" Her eyes were gleaming. She lived for our nights out, especially considering it seemed like she never took a night off.

  I raised my brows; we hadn't been together as a complete group for at least six months. Suddenly, I was looking forward to it. "That's amazing. I'm gonna grab something to eat. When are we meeting?"

  "Eight," she said, yawning and pushing up from the couch. "I'm gonna take a quick nap before the sun goes down, but I wanted to catch you before you had a chance to settle in for the evening." She narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger at m
e. "No backing out!"

  I held up my hands. "No backing out—I promise!"

  Truth be told, she couldn't have paid me to miss it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BY THE TIME SEVEN ROLLED around, I'd done some research on the local packs because a few new ones had moved in since my family moved away. There were no Braxtons, and no hint of an excommunication.

  That bugged me because he had to have come from somewhere. Until I knew, he was an unknown quantity and a suspect as far as I was concerned.

  Maybe when he came in the next day, he'd be a little more willing to talk, since we'd be alone and I could speak without weighing my words. That was a problem for then, though.

  I slid the hangers down the rod in my closet, trying to figure out what to wear. It's not that the Hook was fancy—far from it—or that I was lacking in clothes, but it was hard to pick a favorite t-shirt. I had dozens of them, ranging from band shirts to ones with snarky expressions.

  Snatching my best pair of jeans and one of my favorite shirts—a purple one with Sarcasm is my Superpower scrawled across the front—I shut the door and headed to the shower.

  As I showered, my mood lifted. Monica was probably my next closest friend after Kat, and I hadn't seen her in several weeks. Thinking about it, I probably should have because she had what she called intuition, and I called magic.

  She'd helped me out with cases before; she'd found a kid who'd wandered into the woods, and she'd pointed me in the right direction several times in cases involving stolen goods.

  Monica was self-possessed and knew exactly who she was and what she could—and couldn't—do. She didn't talk about her past much; all I knew was she came from another small town and that she had no family. I figured everybody had the right to privacy, so I respected hers.

  But I was going to talk to her. It was a new angle, and Kat and Sully were right—I needed to ask for help.

  Sully's was rockin' when we got there. The jukebox was cranking out “Saw You Standing There” by the Beatles at a level just below deafening, even for paranormals with super hearing.

 

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