by T. F. Walsh
When Connell chanced another glance in the rearview mirror, his chocolate eyes locked onto mine. His devilish wink might have been innocent, but his gaze pierced right through me.
“Repeat a couple times with the lemon,” he said. “And the stain should be gone.”
“Sounds easy. Thanks.” My voice wavered.
“Great idea, Martha Stewart.” Anton tugged on the seatbelt that pulled tight across his chest.
We picked up speed and flew through Braşov. The stunning Renaissance architecture slowly changed to concrete apartments with dozens of satellite dishes sticking out from balconies. What I missed most about living with the pack in the Carpathian Mountains was the fresh air, open space, and the silence. Even though the pack worked as park rangers in the Carpathian woods, they rarely visited the city. So, I still hadn’t adjusted to the belching of car engines, pollution on my clothes, and so many voices. In my small apartment, the walls might as well have been made of paper since most nights my neighbors’ conversations streamed into my room, word for word.
But the city was growing on me. Every morning, I woke up, got ready for the day, and stopped at the local coffee shop for my sugary coffee and pastry before rushing to work. It was easy to get lost in the pulsing energy of the city’s morning rush hour, people everywhere. I couldn’t help but get swept into the crowd and follow the pull and push.
Connell turned into a driveway and parked right outside a brick warehouse with a glass door and a sign that read: “Sam’s Tans. Tanning Animal Pelts for Over Fifty Years.”
I climbed out, and a cool breeze wove through my hair, tugging at my collar. Probably should have grabbed a jacket from my office back at the institute.
Connell locked the car and turned to me. “There’s no guarantee the owner will give us permission to search, but I’ll ask. Look around, and let me know if you pick up the same smell from the institute.” He glanced at Anton. “You’re with me.”
Without another word, Connell headed to the door and held it open for me. Before I took the first step inside, a wall of odors crashed into me—chemicals, animal hides, and fur … and more specifically, a faint stench of dead animals. I cupped a hand to my mouth from the overwhelming smell.
“You all right?” Anton asked. “It’s pretty strong, but some people love the smell of new leather.”
Not me. Yeah, the pack often slaughtered animals for food and used their pelts for blankets and clothing, but nothing compared to the stink radiating from this place. I stepped inside as acidity in the air burned the back of my throat. How was I supposed to pick up anything distinct in the store with such an overpowering funk?
Inside, Connell and Anton strolled toward the reception desk where a burly guy, probably in his mid-fifties, stood behind the counter. A silver beard reached halfway down his chest, and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail. As the inspectors approached, his bushy eyebrows arched.
“How can I help you two gentlemen today?”
“Are you the owner of this store?” Connell asked.
“Yes, that’s me. I’m Sam. Who’s asking?”
Sam reminded me of one of those men who spent his weekends in the wilderness, hunting game, living off the land. I bet he rarely left home without a knife. I walked away.
Two rows of shelves ran the length of the store ahead of me. Animal hides were pinned to the walls, along with belts and vests. I wandered down an aisle, my hand stroking a soft fur pelt I recognized as a fox. The next one had once been a white rabbit. I agreed with the idea of making use of animal pelts, but an uncomfortable sensation about this store stirred inside me. This was for show and sport, not survival.
Against the back wall, a wolf skin complete with the animal’s head made bile claw up my throat. Glass eyes stared at me. Hunting wolves was illegal, so most likely this poor creature had been hunted years ago. Didn’t make the sting any less painful.
I caressed the gray, brindled fur. Fire seethed beneath my own skin, burning hotter by the second. Leaning closer, I inhaled the wet-dog odor still clinging to the pelt. I gasped. A recent kill.
The wooden floor creaked behind me, and I whirled around to find Connell approaching. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
“I hate this place.” My gaze flipped to the wolf skin and back. “Dead animals aren’t trophies. They were living creatures once and deserve respect.” I swallowed back the thickness in my throat. “This wolf skin is recent. Since when is killing wolves permitted?”
Connell’s expression hardened. He reached out and turned a corner of the pelt over. “How can you tell? Maybe the carcass was found in the woods?”
“My father used to tan hides. It’s new.” Sandulf tanned animal skins all the time behind our pack house.
“I’ll speak with Sam, the owner.” Softness captured his gaze as he studied the fur. “Did you pick up anything?”
“It’s kind of hard since the whole place stinks like an animal graveyard.”
His nose creased slightly as he sucked in air. “It’s not that horrid.”
“Probably just me. I’ve always had a strong sense of smell. Once, a friend tried to prank me by throwing a cow pie at me when I walked outside the house. But I caught the stink before he hurled it. I ducked and slammed the door shut. We both got in trouble and had to scrub the door and the wall clean.” Radu was my closest friend in the pack; pranks were our forte.
A chuckle rolled from Connell’s chest. “Your friend reminds me a lot of my brother and me growing up, except replace the cow pie with snow.”
“I’ll take snow any day.” I smiled.
“Anyway, we’ve been given permission to go into the workshop out back.” He pointed to the door across the room where Anton stood. “Go with him while I ask a few more questions.” Connell lanced a disgruntled glare at his partner and returned to the front of the store.
Squaring my shoulders, I pushed past the wall of emotions tightening my muscles and joined Anton in the workshop. With the windows wide open onto a yard, the fresh breeze lightened the suffocating reek.
Anton scanned the skinning knives on the long table in the center of the workshop before opening the cupboards against the walls. I strolled past the L-shaped counter littered with open boxes of tanning kits and to the rear door, which stood slightly ajar.
I inhaled slowly, focusing on every scent. Leather, an acidic chemical, and … Another long breath … The faint whiff of bear cub fur tickled my nose. The fresh scent of the newborn I’d held in my arms just the day before, while his brother hunted for more of the honey that I’d given them, floated in the air. Then it faded away.
Anton pushed open a side door in the room. I trailed behind him and found two huge vats, each sealed with a lid. Probably filled with chemicals and putrid flesh scraped from the hides during the process.
I paced to the door and back, unable to track the bear smells again. But for those few seconds, I swore they had been there.
Anton slammed the door to the other room.
I flinched.
“Nothing here but tanning equipment.” He raised his chin in my direction and stepped closer. “I hope I don’t come across as unprofessional, but I’d like to ask you out to dinner. Or lunch, if you prefer?” He shrugged in an innocent way not fitting his gruff demeanor and reached out, his fingers sliding down my arm. The hairs on my arm stood on end, and I pulled away.
If only it were Connell asking.
While flattered, Anton wasn’t my type, and I didn’t appreciate his uninvited touch. What excuse could I use that wouldn’t crush him but would make it clear I wasn’t interested? Perhaps that I had a boyfriend or …
Connell joined us, hands in his pockets, his gaze scanning the workshop. Ah, perfect timing; he’d saved me from some lame excuse.
“Sam seems clean.” He met my gaze. “Said the wolf fur was donated to the store, but he’s taking it down.”
A fake smile was all I could summon as I struggled between the obvious lie about the wolf
fur from the owner, the knowledge that the bear cubs had been here, and me straining to rein in my reaction around Connell.
“I picked up the same tanning scent,” I said. “I’m certain of it.”
A crease captured Connell’s brow. Anton stepped closer, but I kept my attention on Connell.
“I smelled the bear cubs in this room.” My words were flat, without a hint of humor, yet the two inspectors stared at me as if I’d cracked a bad joke.
“Yeah, right,” Anton said, sarcasm lacing his tone. “No one’s sense of smell is that good.”
My shoulders shot back. “I’ve always had a strong sense of smell, and I spent the last two days in a closed room with bear cubs. I’d recognize their sweet tundra smell anywhere, and I picked it up here.”
Connell raised his chin and inhaled deeply. “I don’t get anything but tanning chemicals. But maybe you’re more attuned to their scent, like you say.”
Connell glanced at Anton. “Did you uncover anything?”
Anton shook his head.
Connell rubbed his stubbled jawline. “Sam has allowed us to inspect this place. For all we know, it could be one of his workers, or someone doing backyard tanning unrelated to this store.”
“This is the only tanning store in Braşov,” Anton said. “Could someone from a nearby town be responsible?”
“Maybe,” Connell said. “But all the missing animals to date have been from Braşov, so I’m betting it’s someone local.”
The idea of animals going missing terrified me. If the police hadn’t found any of them to date, what did that mean for the cubs? I pressed my hand against my stomach at the notion of their pelts tacked to some person’s wall for show. The air thickened and left me feeling as if I were wading through a mud pit. What if we didn’t find the bears in time?
“Anton, I’ve got a list of the employees from this store. We can do background checks at the station.”
“Sure, I’ll be your lackey.”
“Come, Daciana, we’ll drive you to the institute,” Connell said.
“Thanks. You’ll keep me posted on the cubs, right?” My voice choked, and the sting in my belly returned. “If you find anything … ” I couldn’t finish.
Anton stepped closer to my side, his stare hard and cold like pebbles in a lake. “Of course. You’ll be the first to know.”
Could I sit around waiting for the police to uncover evidence? If I couldn’t convince Connell or Anton of the bear scent in this store, then maybe it was up to me to discover the truth.
When Connell opened the rear door to the workshop for us, Sam joined us in the back room. He had the wolf pelt folded over his arm and proceeded to set it on a counter. The animal’s head was propped up against a tool in a way that had it staring in my direction as if reminding me this could happen to the bear cubs if I didn’t stop it.
“You’re heading off then?” Sam’s arms dangled by his sides. The liar stared at me, and a withering expression slid behind his eyes for a split second. A slight spasm at the corner of his mouth made me wonder if he had a nervous twitch.
“For now,” Connell said. “Might be back to ask you more questions.”
“No problem. My doors are always open to the police.” I caught a slight quiver on his last word, but no one else seemed to notice it.
Anton strolled outside, and I followed him into a grassy yard, sensing Sam’s gaze on my back. Something about the guy made me uncomfortable.
A black van was parked in the far corner of the yard with the back windows tinted so dark, it was impossible to see inside. Beyond the property loomed several other industrial buildings.
In no time, we were back in the Audi. Anton sat in the front this time, which made me relax. No one said a word as we drove to the institute, until I climbed out.
“Daciana,” Connell said, his window sliding open. “Thank you for helping. We’ll be keeping a close eye on the store.”
“I’m happy to help.” Anything to correct my wrongs.
For a long moment, he didn’t say a word but stared at me. Ask him out already. An excitement swirled in my chest as the words bubbled in my mind. No, I shouldn’t. After screwing up this morning, inviting the inspector on the case out for a coffee wasn’t the wisest of moves. My chest tightened. And I doubted Anton would take it well, considering the two were at odds.
Anton stared at me from the passenger seat. As if Connell sensed that, too, he simply said, “Okay, thanks. Bye.”
Connell drove away.
Damn.
CHAPTER FOUR
CONNELL
A tinge of silver moonlight bounced off the parked cars along the otherwise dark road in the industrial part of the city. The Sam’s Tans driveway lay a block away and directly in my view. Parked in the shadows of several enormous oaks, I gulped down the last mouthful of coffee. No activity for the past hour, unless I counted cats sprinting across the road. Knowing my luck, the moment I left for a caffeine refill, I’d miss out on something going down.
I still wasn’t convinced that the owner of the store was in any way mixed up with my smuggling case or the missing cubs from the institute. He’d offered us free access to inspect the building whenever we needed. The shock on his face seemed genuine. When I questioned him about the fur, he hastily removed the pelt from the wall, insisting he hadn’t inspected it properly.
But if Daciana, who had a keen eye, had been able to tell the age of the pelt from a quick inspection, why hadn’t Sam? I could understand now why Vasile accepted her into the institute, despite her being only twenty-four and having minimal work experience. She had talent.
Anton was investigating several backyard tanning operations we’d heard about. One might uncover a clue. I’d watch Sam’s Tans a while longer, as Daciana was adamant about the smell. Her statement matched Vasile’s report, and her neighbors corroborated the fact about her regularly going to work at dawn. I’d have to dig a bit deeper.
Video footage of Daciana during the interview at the institute circled in my mind. The upward curve of her lips. Her tight pencil skirt. My mind refused to stop picturing us alone in my office, her stomach pressed up against the wall and me yanking up her skirt while taking her from behind fast and hard. Shit. I was losing it. Forget her. My head was too messed up right now to get involved with anyone.
At least I’d kept her from Anton’s grasp. The prick had a screw loose.
I ran a hand through my hair, still unable to believe I’d put five years into a marriage just to have it end with zero to show for it. What the fuck? Michaela had apologized, begging me to take her back, and refused to sign the divorce papers. Except I didn’t play that way. She’d revealed her true colors, and I was out. Still pissed me off.
Car lights approached from behind me, and I watched the small hatchback zipping down the street. Nope, the car wasn’t turning into the tanning store.
However, the moment it drove past, its lights revealed a black silhouette sprinting from the driveway. The figure ducked behind a parked vehicle.
Fuck. I almost missed that. Get your head straight, man.
I climbed out of the car, removed the gun from the holster at my hip, and edged the door shut behind me. Using the night as concealment, I dashed across the street to the parked car.
Around the hood, I found the area empty. No one was near the front or the rear of the vehicle. Then a figure broke cover from between vehicles parked farther away and darted across the road. He looped around and headed in the direction of my Audi.
I bolted forward, keeping my gun ready.
Lashings of cold winds came out of nowhere, whipping my shirt and hair. Down the sidewalk, the hooded figure lunged forward, arms pumping with long strides, making him damn fast.
“Stop, this is the police!” I called out. “I’ve got a gun.”
He glanced back over a shoulder, and I flashed my weapon.
“Stop.”
And he did, just like that. I’ve never seen a criminal give up so quickly. The p
erson hunched over, with hands on his knees, to catch his breath. I was on him within seconds, my gun raised.
Straightening his posture, he removed the hood from his face. Dark hair framed deep, gray eyes. Her lips were pursed.
“Daciana?” A shudder ran through me. “What are you doing?” I tucked the gun into its holster.
Another breeze blew past, tossing her shoulder-length hair off her face. Her cheeks flushed red as her chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Look, I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I wanted to do some investigating on my own.”
I shook my head. “I could have shot you.”
“Well … ” Her gaze fell momentarily. “I got the impression you thought Sam was clean.” She shrugged and stared at the path we’d sprinted down seconds earlier.
“Maybe you should trust me. And why did you run?”
Her arms folded across her black sweatshirt. “I don’t know. I panicked. You weren’t in uniform, and I figured it was some random dude or security for the building. Sorry.”
I shook my head. “Trespassing is an offense.”
Her lower lip caught between her teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll let you off this time, but you can’t go breaking into people’s places. Promise me you’ll leave Sam’s Tans alone?”
“Of course.” She nodded. “But in case you’re curious, his van is gone.”
“He probably took it home.”
Huffing, she dropped her hands by her sides. “The guy’s hiding something.”
I admired her determination but also suspected her hatred of seeing the wolf pelt on the wall had altered her judgment. “After we spoke at the institute, I returned and searched the property thoroughly. I found nothing.”
Her head tilted back, one of her eyebrows arching. “I bet you have the same niggling doubt about him. Otherwise, why are you here?”
“Actually”—I shoved my hands into my pockets—“I’m here because of your concern.”
She fell silent, watching me.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“I caught the bus.”