The Wolf at the Door

by Charlie Adhara

  Should he invite Park to dinner? Did the whole “be nice and make this experiment work smoothly” thing extend to dinner dates?

  Cooper checked his phone. He had never gotten back to Jefferson last night and his partner had texted a second time to complain. He’d already heard about Eagler’s disappearance and wanted an update on that as well. Cooper didn’t know if he should feel supported or micromanaged. Jefferson was a patient partner who had never given any sign that he resented guiding Cooper through this brave new world of wolves, but as much as this was an experiment to see how partnering with wolves might work for the BSI, Cooper felt it was also an opportunity for him to prove he was ready to take the lead on a case himself.

  Not that he was doing so well thus far. For one, he’d just walked away from a prime suspect. Jefferson would have brought Whittaker in on the spot. He was a wolf who admitted to fighting with the victim less than an hour before he disappeared. What else was there to know?

  But the Crazy Baker story had thrown Cooper off. There were too many wolves in this town to just nab the first one he crossed paths with. Nor would it win them any allies in the department to drag Whittaker into the station without a smidgen of proof. He didn’t want another Ben Pultz situation. He finally had the opportunity to really investigate.

  He became aware of Park watching him out of the corner of his eye. “What’s up?” Cooper said brusquely.

  “You okay over there?”

  “‘Course. Just thinking.”

  “Well, you have the angriest thinking face I’ve ever seen.” Park laughed softly. “Want to share with the class?”

  Yeah, will you get dinner with me? He said, “Funny. You don’t strike me as a big show-and-tell type.”

  Park raised an eyebrow. “On the contrary, Agent Dayton, there are lots of things I want to show and tell you.”

  Cooper geared up, ready to snap back, but Park didn’t sound threatening. If anything he sounded almost...flirtatious. Which was ridiculous. Cooper was probably projecting, or Park was teasing him. Reminding him of their encounter at the metro and what an idiot he had been.

  Cooper shook his head and changed the subject. “We should get an early start tomorrow. I’d like to head to Baker’s as soon as possible.”

  “An early start sounds good to me.”

  “Right. And I want to check with Brown on that alibi.”

  “All right. You really think Whittaker’s good for it?” Park said doubtfully. “He seemed genuinely surprised and upset to hear he was missing. He obviously...cared about Gould.”

  “He could easily have been upset we linked them. He was surprised Mrs. Gould knew about him. And as for the caring, there’s your motive right there. Maybe he couldn’t handle his unrequited love anymore. Or maybe it wasn’t unrequited after all. All the more likely something went wrong,” Cooper muttered.

  “What a romantic you are. What about Bornestein and our John Doe? You’re saying he was involved with them, too?”

  “No. But Gould could be his ideal victim and the others just substitutes for his rage until he got the real deal. It’s pretty common with serial killers. I saw it when I was with the FBI.”

  Park frowned but didn’t argue. Cooper wondered what his background was. Had he had any experience profiling and hunting killers before joining the Trust? For that matter, did he have any experience with it while working for the Trust?

  Obviously, the BSI’s impression of the wolf representatives as politicians, pamphlet pushers and PR management wasn’t the whole story. Park knew his way around a criminal investigation and it wasn’t all due to wolfy instincts.

  “If he’s our unsub, if,” Park said, “this whole mystery-job thing is a pretty risky lie.”

  “Yeah. But he could just be buying time by casting our suspicion on an even more suspicious person so he can hop back across the border. I’ll ask Chief Brown to put a watch on him.”

  Part of Cooper wanted to turn around and bring Whittaker in right now. Stick his ass in jail overnight while they checked up on Baker. Just in case. But that would be hard to explain to the locals. They wouldn’t protest too hard if they knew what he really was. What Park was, too, Cooper thought.

  He glanced at Park, who was looking innocently confused and nibbling on his full lower lip. Cooper swallowed and looked quickly away.

  “Why would you want to put a watch on Whittaker?” Park said.

  “In case he tries to split.”

  “He’s not going to run.”

  “Why not? If he’s our killer, he knows we’re close. It won’t take long to talk to Brown and Baker. And even if he’s not our killer, he might still be skittish. Whittaker doesn’t strike me as an idiot. He knows he just admitted to motive and opportunity and we all know he’s got the means.”

  “He won’t run,” Park repeated with a conviction that aggravated Cooper.

  “If I was Whittaker, I would run.”

  “If Whittaker was you, he would run. But not if you were Whittaker.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Park shook his head in an appeasing way. But something about the glint of his eyes and quiver in his shoulders told Cooper the wolf was riling him up intentionally and getting a kick out of it. Dinner was so fucking not happening.

  “I’m saying if he was you, as in human, I could see him running. But he’s a werewolf, so he won’t, because I told him not to.”

  Cooper digested that. “You think Whittaker won’t split because you told him to sit, stay and roll over.”

  Park’s lips twitched. “Essentially.”

  “Wow. I can’t decide which is bigger, your head or your balls,” Cooper muttered, and Park full-on laughed. Cooper found himself smiling a little in response. His black cloud of temper had passed as quickly as it had come. Something about Park could settle him in a heartbeat. Maybe the same thing about him that could rile him up from zero to sixty so fucking fast.

  “What is that about, anyway?” Cooper asked.

  “What?”

  “You know. The Park effect. The way that guy in the Pumphouse reacted to you. And the whole Whittaker thing. What makes you so sure he’d listen to you?”

  Park tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. “I have a large, close-knit family,” he said finally. “That carries a lot of weight around here, amongst certain people.”

  Cooper snapped his fingers rhythmically. “‘When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way...’”

  Park chuckled. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s not? So you’re not telling me that wolves don’t want to mess with you because your family’s the biggest pack around?”

  Park shook his head, stopped, then nodded and said, “All right. That is part of what I’m saying.” Cooper snorted. “But that’s not all of it. Sure, there are a lot of us, and god knows more are popping out every year, but that’s not that unusual. What’s different is most big families split off into smaller packs to avoid...” He trailed off.

  “Multiple alphas?” Cooper guessed. Pack politics was another thing the Trust didn’t like to acknowledge, but you only had to run into a couple wolves to figure out they followed some kind of strict status shit.

  “Too many cooks in the kitchen,” Park countered. It was a less animalistic terminology, but not a disagreement. “Anyway, mine didn’t split off. They all still run together, despite there being more than one dominating personality. Against the odds they’ve made it work. After losing my parents, my grandparents only got more old-fashioned. Closer. They raised us to always put the family first. Always stick together. That kind of loyalty made the Park name powerful in certain circles.”

  “Loyalty from everyone except you,” Cooper mused aloud, and the look of pain that flashed across Park’s face made him wish he could suck the words back into his mouth.

  Park’s ligh
t condemnation from earlier drifted through his head. That was harsh.

  “I love my family,” Park said quietly. “We have no bad blood between us. I just wanted different things.”

  “Sure,” Cooper said. There was definitely more to that story but he’d be damned if he was going to dig for it. Not while exhibiting serious signs of foot-in-mouth syndrome. “I get that. People think that because I work for the bureau I followed in my dad’s footsteps. But he doesn’t see it that way. The minute I went away to get my degree, he saw it as a betrayal.” He was surprised to still be talking, and about himself no less.

  “The black sheep,” Park said.

  “You too.”

  “Eh, black sheep in wolf’s clothing,” Park said, and winked at him. Cooper gave a startled laugh.

  Ask him to dinner. Cooper’s laughter ended abruptly. He fiddled with his jeans as they drove in silence. He searched for something to say to keep the conversation going, wanting to glimpse more of the unguarded Park, but everything he came up with seemed stupid. Trite.

  They pulled into the motel parking lot and Park cut the engine. Instead of getting out, he turned to Cooper. It was dark except for the nearby glowing motel sign, which cast a strange blue-tinged light across the car. Park’s face was in shadow and made it hard to determine his expression. Cooper knew Park could see him perfectly well despite the darkness, and that feeling of being watched and not being able to look back made his heartbeat quicken.

  He concentrated on arranging his features into a professional expression and quickly licked his dry lips.

  The shadow that was Park’s head tilted to one side. “You’re nervous. Why?”

  “No I’m not,” Cooper said quickly. He amended, “Being in the dark isn’t a natural state for me.”

  “Isn’t it?” Park said, and Cooper could hear the teasing smile in his voice. Park reached up and flicked on the car’s interior light.

  Did that mean they were going to be sitting here for a while?

  “Hey. I’m, uh, sorry. About your friend. Jenny.”

  Park’s eyes widened slightly. He was surprised by that. Then his usual neutral façade was back in place. Cooper wasn’t sure if Park was letting his mask slip more or if Cooper was just getting better at picking up on the little clues.

  “I’ve been thinking... Whittaker said Robbie had a thing for Eagler,” Cooper said. “And Whittaker was into Robbie. That could be your motive. He avoided saying if he knew her himself or not. Did she know Baker?”

  “Now you think she might be another victim of our unsub?”

  “It’s unlikely, but maybe.” He decided not to bring up his alternate theory that Jenny herself was the unsub.

  “I’m not sure if she knew them. Jenny knew a lot of people. She might have known Whittaker. He’s a friendly guy.” Cooper snorted. “Tonight excepted,” Park continued with a wry smile. “I don’t know if anyone really knew Baker.”

  “Baker’s a lone wolf,” Cooper said, repeating what Park had said earlier. “And Sam Whittaker doesn’t just work for Rudi? He’s...part of her pack?” Cooper guessed based on the tangents the conversation had taken. Park nodded. “Why did that surprise you?”

  “Sam’s family is already part of a pretty solid pack. I would have assumed if he was sticking around town he’d have stayed with them.”

  “Is it unusual to leave a pack?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. But it never happens without a reason.”

  “What about Jenny? Whose pack is she part of?”

  Park looked puzzled. “Jenny isn’t a werewolf.”

  “What? Oh. I—oh.”

  “Why did you think she was?”

  Yes, why had he? Because she and Park were friends? That seemed so absurd now. So...rude? So stupid. And Cooper would have rather broken into song than admit it as the reason. He cast around for something else to say. “Is that what you meant before? When you said she wasn’t your type?”

  Oy. As conversation points went, that wasn’t a hell of a lot better.

  Fortunately, Park seemed more bemused than offended. “Do you disapprove of human-werewolf relationships, Agent Dayton?”

  “No. Of course not. I—that’s not what I meant. I just didn’t understand...” Cooper trailed off, thoroughly uncomfortable, and Park took pity on him.

  “She’s not my type because I’m gay.”

  The silence was sharp. Vaguely Cooper was aware his mouth was hanging open. He shut it quickly. Then opened it again to say, “Oh, that’s nice.”

  That’s nice? Good job, Dayton. Christ, so much for getting better at picking up on the little clues. Did that mean... Could Park actually have been interested in him back at the metro?

  Cooper couldn’t think of what else to say and went with the next thing that popped into his head. “Me, too.”

  “Is that so,” Park said, though he didn’t look surprised. If anything he seemed to be holding back laughter. But of course he’d probably already figured that out from the way Cooper had been licking his lips in his direction and just generally acting like a flustered idiot at the station.

  He felt a flush threatening his cheeks. Gay or not, Park had given him the brush-off as soon as he learned his name. Cooper shouldn’t forget that. He quickly said, “So is that why you aren’t part of your family’s pack anymore?”

  Park’s face went blank, laughter gone. “No. Certainly not.”

  “You said no one leaves their pack without a good reason.”

  “My sexuality is of no concern in that matter,” he said, clearly closing the subject.

  Park had slipped into a stilted, refined way of talking. It could have been because he resented having his life pried into, but Cooper had noticed the same thing happening the last time he spoke of his family. He’d suddenly sounded like a private school kid.

  Money, thought Cooper. Old money and lots of it, probably. Which was another reason people around here reacted to the Park name the way they did.

  Money had that effect no matter who you were, or what you could or couldn’t turn into.

  If Park was out of the pack, was he out of the money as well? It didn’t have an effect on this case, but it did make Cooper curious where the lines were between pack and family. Was there one without the other?

  There was a new tension in the air and Cooper fumbled around for a change in subject. “Speaking of outcasts, what’s our play tomorrow at Baker’s?”

  “Our play?” Park repeated doubtfully. “I thought we were just going there to question him. Whittaker said the job was by Baker’s land. He may just be a witness. Realistically, he may be nothing at all. What’s there to be tactical about?”

  “Baker’s dangerous, by your own admission.”

  Park scoffed, “Dangerously grumpy.”

  “I think we should pull an officer from Florence PD as backup.”

  “There’s already two of us and only one of him, and we don’t even know if he’s our guy. What are you so scared of? The odds are in your favor.”

  Cooper felt a wave of heat burning his face and his blood, different from the mild blushing before.

  Scaredy cat. Weakling. Sissy boy.

  Park didn’t seem to notice Cooper getting worked up as he continued, “You’re a highly trained BSI officer armed to the teeth.”

  “He’s a wolf. He’s armed with teeth.”

  “By that logic, so am I,” Park countered.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Cooper snapped. He felt furious. Or...something. But why he should be angry at Park, he didn’t know. “Two of you and one of me. The odds are in your favor.”

  “You still don’t trust me not to attack you?” Park said.

  “Don’t be stupid. Of course not.”

  “But you don’t trust me to have your back.”

  Cooper’s mouth opened and
closed. He resisted the urge to touch the scars on his belly. The silence dragged out.

  “Well. That’s an answer.” Park’s voice was tight and controlled. “Tell me, Special Agent Dayton, what have I done or said that makes you feel like I would choose a serial killer’s side over yours?”

  “Nothing,” Cooper muttered, and even he could hear the resentment in the word. “But I don’t even know you.”

  “Do you always assume the worst of people?” The way he said it, like he felt bad for Cooper, like he thought he knew him, like he could see all the times Cooper hadn’t assumed the worst and how that had turned out...

  It just made Cooper angrier.

  “Until someone gives me a reason to think otherwise, yeah, I do.”

  “That must be very lonely for you.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Cooper retorted. “So far the most useful thing about you is how terrified every wolf in this town is of you. You’re saying that’s not lonely?”

  He knew he’d gone too far the moment the words were out of his mouth. Knew it even as he was saying it but couldn’t pull back. Park had been a fine partner. A good partner. If anything, his unflappable amiability had made Cooper feel too comfortable, drawing him closer and relaxing his tensions like a campfire on a cold night. But something about Park calling him lonely had cut deeper than he thought possible, and like an animal with his back against the wall, he’d wanted to fling the same back in his face.

  Park pressed his lips together, shook his head and reached his hand up between them. Cooper instinctively flinched and then regretted it immediately when Park froze. His face looked shocked and then disgusted.

  “Just turning the light off, Agent Dayton.”

  “I didn’t—” Cooper stuttered, and jerked his hand away from where it was blocking his gut protectively.

  Park didn’t wait to hear the rest. He flicked the light off and got out of the car.