by Tegan Maher
Pulling my phone away from my face to check the time, I scowled. "It's not even eight, yet. No. He hasn't gotten in touch yet."
She paused. "That's odd."
"What's so odd about it? I'm not at the office yet."
"I was under the impression he was going to be there last night."
"If he is, I haven't heard from him. He's probably waiting 'til I go to work. You know, like normal people do."
"Sarcasm isn't attractive on you, Cordelia."
I rolled my eyes, then squinted as the sunlight hit me when I opened the drapes. "I know, but neither is being up half the night with Kat, then having my mother play twenty questions before I've even had my first cup of coffee."
Her stiff tone told me I might have gone a tad too far. When she replied, I knew I had. "I hardly call making sure your backup arrived playing games. After all, two women are dead, and you're not having any luck. One more and the FBI will come in. Is that what you want?"
I pulled in a huge breath through my nose, then blew it out through my mouth. "Of course not, Mom. But he isn't here yet. As soon as he is, I'll let you know, okay?"
She sniffed. "Thank you."
"Then you'll be the first to know."
"Oh, and Cori? Be nice."
Scoffing, I said, "When am I ever not nice?"
"I'm just saying. Put a little effort in here. He's a valuable asset to the pack."
My bullshit alarm was bouncing into the red, but I had more pressing issues than worrying about what was going through my mother's head.
"Will do, Mom." I paused for a moment and considered whether or not to tell her what had happened to Kat and Rissa, and decided not to. The last thing I wanted was to throw more fuel on that fire, at least until I decided whether or not there was a connection.
I took a quick shower, pulled on my favorite burgundy blazer, and headed toward town. I was glad to see that MochaLocha's, my favorite coffee shop, wasn't busy. The smell of fresh-baked bread and coffee welcomed me when I pushed through the door, and Mona, the owner and barista, was already making my coffee when I walked through the door.
"I'll have you fixed up in just a second, hun," she said, frothing the milk. She was one of the most pleasant people I'd ever met, and a real character. She'd been around as long as I could remember, and was a witch with mad kitchen magic. If it weren't for my wolfy metabolism, her pastries would be sitting right on my hips.
She also made it her business to keep track of everything going on in town, and was free with the information. Sometimes too free, since she'd told Zach where to find me. I decided to let it slide.
She popped the lid on my coffee and slid it across the counter to me. "Hang on just a second, sugar. I gotta go to the back and get your danish. There aren't any left up here."
Mocha's was the hotbed in town for all the best gossip, and several eyes turned toward me while I waited. I didn't have to be psychic to hear the questions, and my face burned because I didn't have the answers.
"Now that's what I call service," a voice said to my right.
I turned and was surprised to see Mr. Hotness from the night before smiling at me.
"Imagine running into you, two days in a row," I said, smiling back. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were stalking me."
He cleared his throat and I raised a brow.
"It's not exactly like that, but I was planning on meeting you. Just not quite the way I did."
I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"
He held his hand out. "Alex Dixon." He glanced around the shop, aware of the eyes on us, and stepped closer so as not to be heard. "I know your mother and she said I should look you up while I'm here. I went to your office when I made it to town, but you were already gone. So I figured rather than show up at your house, I'd have a beer and wait 'til today."
The way he said he knew my mother was diplomatic and vague, and I couldn't decide whether he was just used to playing pack politics or if he was trying to avoid invading my space any more than he was being paid to do. Or if he was just playing it cool because we had an audience.
Examining him, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until he gave me reason not to.
After all, my mother was a lot of things, but she knew how to get things done and tended to know who would be best for the job at hand. If she'd sent him, she believed he would be useful, and I could use a heaping helping of that.
I had my pride, but I wasn't willing to risk more people dying for the sake of it.
I stuck out my hand. "Cori Sloane. Pleasure to meet you."
Shaking, he motioned toward the pastry case just as Mona came back and handed me my danish in a little bag.
"All of it," she answered for me as she slid a fresh tray of blackberry danishes into the case. "Just depends on what you like."
Nodding, I said, "She's right. If you like sweets, there's not a thing in that case you won't like. If you don't like sweets, I don't know what to tell you, except you don't know what you're missing."
Grinning, he told Mona, "I'll take whatever she has, then, and a double caramel latte."
I pulled cash out of my wallet, but as usual, Mona waved me off, but studied me for a second, her faded blue eyes seeming to dig into my soul. "I put a little extra in your coffee. I had a feeling this morning when you walked in. You be careful, you hear?"
She turned back toward the coffee machine to make Alex's coffee, and I chewed my lip, uncertain whether to ask more or not.
She had the site, and was usually dead on. If she told you to be careful, you'd do well to follow her advice. The only problem was that I didn't understand what she meant. But if that's all she said, it was likely all she knew. When she saw more details, she shared them.
"I will," I said, my mind wandering over the possibilities as she handed Alex his coffee.
She frowned when she saw my expression. "Don't overthink it. Just use your noggin before you act. That's all I got. Now go on and have a good day. Good luck."
Alex followed me outside. "What did she mean, she put something extra in your coffee?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I know she put something in there, but your guess is as good as mine as to whether it was for energy, or luck, or a head cold."
"You're just going to drink it?"
I cocked a brow at him. "What else should I do with it?"
He blinked twice. "I guess I don't have a response to that."
"I don't trust many people," I said, taking a sip of my coffee, "but I do trust Mona. Whatever she put in there will only help. And she always seems to know exactly what I need."
Shrugging, he took a bite out of his danish.
"Besides," I said, thinking back to the night before. "It may be better to worry about people who don't tell you what they put in your drink."
"Is that what happened to your vampire friend? She looked like hammered shit, and that's quite a stretch for a vampire."
I ran my tongue over my teeth, trying to decide whether or not to tell him. "Just out of curiosity, what are your orders from my mother?"
He crinkled his brow. "I don't have orders, per se. She asked me to come help you out. I have an ... affinity for this type of thing."
"What type of thing?"
Lifting one corner of his mouth up, he said, "Figuring out puzzles."
That didn't make much sense, but it seemed it was all he was going to offer.
"Speaking of my mother," I said, reaching for my phone, "I need to let her know you're officially here."
Surprised, he said, "I already did."
I shook my head. "She called this morning and I told her I hadn't seen you. I didn't know who you were last night.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I GAVE HIM DIRECTIONS to the courthouse, and he met me there. Once we were in my office, I shoved the files to him, then pulled my danish out of the bag.
"The victims had nothing in common, no common people or places or jobs. Not age or politics, just ... nothin
g."
He flipped through Tabbie's file, and I noted how clinical his expression was as he examined the pictures. Not cold, so much, but detached. These weren't the first gruesome pictures he'd seen.
"Any evidence at all, other than the prints?"
I started to shake my head, but then remembered. "There was a tuft of fur at the last scene."
He flipped through to the evidence list and scanned it again as if he'd missed it. "I don't see it."
"That's because I didn't think it was wise to leave proof of werewolves in an evidence locker."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "I'm not used to dealing directly with humans. Most of my projects involve supernatural people only."
"Projects?" The more cryptic he became, the more curious it made me. I wondered if he was doing it on purpose, but it didn't feel deliberate.
"Yeah, projects. I do everything from help locate stolen goods to tracking down people who don't want to be found. Though I have to admit, this is my first time for a rogue werewolf."
"Well welcome to the club," I said, frowning. "May it be our last."
Billy Braxton was supposed to come in and see me that day, so I left a message with Ms. Ellen to send him back the minute he got there.
Alex raised a brow. "Person of interest?"
I sighed. "I'm not sure yet. He's the boyfriend, but he's a wolf and didn't register with me when he came to town several months ago." Billy's earnest expression flitted through my head. "I'm reserving judgment for now. He's supposed to come talk to me today."
"What for, if you questioned him yesterday?" Alex leaned forward in his chair and put his elbows on his knees, waiting for my answer.
"He was with a human—the victim's sister—and couldn't tell me about his family. More important, when I went to talk to Tabitha's boss yesterday, I found out they've had some arguments recently because she wants to meet them and he refuses."
Alex leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "Yeah, but we both know what the problem might be there. She's a human and not all packs would sanction the match. It may have put her in danger if they even know about her."
I ran my hand down my face. "Believe me, I know."
His eyes lighted with understanding. "Oh. Yeah, I could see where somebody in your station may run into that problem."
I smiled bitterly. "It gives me the urge to allow a little latitude, at least with the meet the parents thing. Failing to let me know he moved here is a whole other kettle of fish, though. I'm not letting him off the hook for that one."
Over the next couple hours, I brought him up to speed on what had happened so far, and what I'd tried, which sounded so lame when I spoke it out loud that I was embarrassed. But what more could I have done? We reviewed each victim, their backgrounds, and family members.
I even told him about Sully's suggestion that I bring in other members of the community, at least to put more eyes out for the guy.
"That's not a horrible idea," Alex said.
"I know." I pulled up my shifter graphs on my computer. A couple years prior, we'd had some land disputes and I'd drawn a map detailing where one family's territory ended and another began. Some areas were shared, if the families got along.
It was also helpful for keeping track of everybody.
I flipped my screen around and showed him. "Every inch of the county is claimed, which means in theory, we'd have eyes everywhere. I scheduled a meeting with the clan leaders for this afternoon."
He squinted at the screen. Some areas were small, either because the family was small or because some species didn't need that much space. "Can you trust them all?"
Shrugging, I said, "For the most part. Not when it comes to everything, but when somebody's out there murdering people, I do. Nobody wants the feds—or even elders of my pack—coming down on us."
"Or the Trackers," he added.
I dipped my head. "Definitely not the Trackers.
"When are we meeting with them?"
"Two, in the back room of the Rusty Hook," I said, checking the clock on my phone. "That gives us plenty of time if you want to check out the murder scenes."
He nodded. "I definitely do. Now?"
"No time like the present," I said, pushing up from my chair.
"What about the Braxton kid?" he asked, standing as well.
I pulled his number up on my phone and dialed. It rang five times then went to voicemail. I left him a quick but no-nonsense message reminding him that if he didn't come see me, I'd come find him, then left my number and told him to call me.
"Ready?" I asked, tucking the case folders under my arm.
"Ready."
On the way out, I stopped and introduced him to Ms. Ellen. She pulled her glasses down and looked at him over the top of them. "Well hello," she said. "Cori's single."
Oh sweet baby Jesus. She and my mother may not see eye to eye, but they sure were on the same page there.
He bit his cheek to keep from smiling, but didn't do much of a job. "So her mother tells me."
"Yeah," she said, wrinkling her nose, "But you can't believe anything that stuck-up old windbag tells you. She never has gave Cori her due. The girl's a fine catch. Personable, good work ethic—"she tilted her head toward me—"and she ain't too shabby to look at, either. Man could do much worse."
I groaned and ran my tongue over my teeth, wishing I could just crawl in a hole. "Thanks, Ms. Ellen, for the glowing review. I'm sure Mr. Dixon has somebody at home. He's only here to help out with the case."
He grinned openly and held up a bare left hand. "Nope," he said. "Nobody waiting for me."
"See," she said to me. "Time's a wastin' girlie."
I didn't think I could be any more embarrassed, but I didn't want to stick around to find out. "C'mon, Alex." I glared at Ms. Ellen, though it seemed to be lost on her. "We have business to attend to."
Once we were out the door, I said, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into her. She's brassy, but she doesn't typically try to auction me like I'm a prize cow."
He laughed, and I liked the sound. "Well, to be honest, I got almost exactly the same spiel from your mom."
"I have no doubt," I said, thinking back to her plea for me to be nice. "It seems that even as a leader of a multi-state pack, she somehow still finds time to torment me."
"Well," he said, "look on the bright side."
I arched a brow as we skipped off the last couple steps of the courthouse and into the employee lot. "And what would that be?"
His eyes sparkled. "They could be trying to hook you up with an ugly old guy."
I sighed as I hit the button to unlock the doors to the Jeep. "Small blessings, I suppose."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT ONLY TOOK US A FEW minutes to get to the park, and I took him to the first murder scene first, since it was the closest. Both sides of the trail had lots of trees and shrubbery so that the road wasn't visible, even though it was only twenty yards or so away.
"A guy was walking his dog, and the dog found her back here," I said, taking a few steps off the trail. I tried to avoid the markers that were still there, even though the trail was old.
He crossed his arm over his chest then rested his elbow on it and rubbed his chin, taking in every detail. I handed him the pics out of Victoria's folder so he could compare them to the scene.
After shuffling through them and examining the spot from a couple different angles, he said, "So was she killed here, do you believe?"
I nodded. "The ground was saturated with blood, though he did snatch her on the trail and drag her here to finish her. There were droplets on the trail and drag marks where you tell she'd struggled. Dirt under her nails and grass stains on the butt of her running shorts."
He puckered his lips and pushed them to one side, his gaze wandering over the scene. "Any guess as to how big he was?"
"I'd say a buck fifty, maybe a little more." I pointed toward a partial set of prints that hadn't been destroyed when the emergency crew extract
ed her. "As you can see, his paw prints are huge. Half again as big as mine and the impressions are a good half-inch to an inch into the soil."
He pushed the toe of his boot into the ground, watching to see how deep the print went, then examined the print. "The ground was about the same as it is now? Not wetter or dryer?"
"It's about the same. It's rained since then, but only once. That's pretty typical."
Nodding, he squatted down and examined the print. "Anything outstanding about the prints?" he asked without looking up.
"Not that I could see."
He took a deep breath through his nose, pulling in the scent, then furrowed his brow and swallowed. "Wow, all I can smell is ... her."
"Yeah," I said. "I had the same problem. A faint scent underneath it all, but it was so overwhelmed that I don't even think I'd recognize it if the guy was standing right beside me."
Did you come back in wolf form to look for a trail?" he asked, pushing back to his feet.
I gave myself a mental forehead slap as we stepped back onto the trail and turned toward where we'd found Tabitha. I hadn't told him about Zach yet. "Sort of."
He raised his brows. "Sort of? How do you sort of come back?"
"I came back to this scene, but there was nothing, other than the faint scent, and even that died at the trail. My guess? It was so early he shifted back to his human form on the trail. Maybe his clothes were hidden nearby, or he parked by the road." I pointed toward the road with my chin. "There's a pull-off right through these bushes."
"And the second scene?"
I pulled Zach's card out of my shield wallet and handed it to him. This guy showed up while we were processing the scene."
He read it, frowning. "So who is he? I mean, really?"
I told him what I knew about Zach, omitting the personal details, then thought better of it. "Remember that human relationship we touched on earlier?"
Pulling in a deep breath, he said, "Don't tell me."
"Yup," I said. "He showed up out of the blue. Hadn't seen or heard from him in twelve years."
"Then I suggest you let me deal with him," he said. "That way, you don't have to worry about personal baggage interfering with the investigation, and neither do I."