The Wolf at the Door

by Charlie Adhara

  “How long after would you be able to, uh, trace someone?” Cooper asked, wondering why they hadn’t tried that during the search for Gould.

  Actually, maybe Park had tried. That was likely how he’d found that lost hiker. But it wasn’t like he could cover over eight hundred thousand acres on his own or even with a pack of wolves. They’d needed a starting point. They’d had nothing.

  Park was saying, “Twenty-four hours, give or take. It’s a little dependent on how familiar I am with the person.” He blinked at Cooper and then looked down, seemingly fascinated by something on the floor. Cooper looked down too but didn’t see anything. Park cleared his throat and continued, still looking down, “Anyway. If anyone else was here, their scent’s faded.”

  “Obviously someone was here.” Cooper gestured to the monitors and then, picking up on Park’s inflection, said, “What do you mean anyone else?”

  Park started to reply, and then glanced over Cooper’s shoulder and frowned. “Your partner just found something.”

  Cooper turned to see Jefferson straightening from his crouch on the floor, a set of keys dangling from the pen he held.

  Cooper walked over with Park on his heels. “What do you got?”

  “Keys,” Jefferson said unnecessarily. “Could be the vic’s, of course, though—” He shook the keys gently on the pen until a keychain hung front and center. Three quarters of a wolf’s head fashioned out of twisted metal. A tiny, unpolished yellow quartz winked under the apartment’s fluorescent light.

  There was a sharp intake of breath and Cooper glanced around.

  Chief Brown was standing behind Park, her hand held oddly in front of her as if undecided between reaching for the keys or covering her mouth in horror.

  “Those are Rudi’s keys,” she said.

  Cooper felt Park stiffen behind him. “Rudi Abouesse? Owner of the Pumphouse?” Cooper asked. He recognized Baker’s handiwork himself, but was momentarily taken aback that Brown did as well. Her face was twisted in betrayal, fear and guilt. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised after all. He was starting to suspect Brown was a lot closer to Abouesse than she was letting on. That didn’t make her such a neutral alibi for Whittaker.

  She nodded, still staring at the key chain. “But she doesn’t—Why would she have—”

  “They aren’t necessarily Rudi’s. A couple of select employees have their own keys to the Pumphouse,” Park interrupted, giving Cooper a meaningful look. Pack members, Cooper guessed.

  Jefferson also caught the look. “Sam Whittaker,” he said grimly.

  “Maybe,” Park said.

  Jefferson snorted. “Do you have another suggestion?” Park didn’t respond.

  “I guess now we know why he ran.” Brown sighed. “Goddamn it—Sam Whittaker. I just don’t understand it.”

  “What do you mean why he ran?” Park asked quietly.

  Shit. Cooper opened his mouth to explain, but Brown beat him to it. “Officers were not able to locate Whittaker at his home or work.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “This morning.” Brown looked between Park and Cooper, confused, which just made it worse. “Didn’t—”

  Jefferson said, “After we heard about Miller, Dayton and I asked the chief to arrest Sam Whittaker.”

  “Bring in,” Cooper corrected hastily, trying to catch Park’s eye. “Bring in for questioning.”

  Jefferson shrugged. It was obvious he had little doubt the questioning would have led to an arrest. “I don’t know why you haven’t brought him in before now. He’s up to his neck in this. Had a history of fighting with the vic. Was the last person to see him. Was the one to send Dayton to Baker’s where he was—”

  Park interrupted, “His alibi checks out.”

  “His alibi is weak.”

  “I don’t—”

  “A police officer, a good man, is dead. One of ours, if you can understand that.” Cooper flinched at Jefferson’s words, but Park remained stoic as ever. “Whittaker’s keys are found in Miller’s apartment, dropped during an obvious struggle, and now Whittaker’s run. Why run if you’re not guilty? And he fits the profi—”

  “Chief,” Cooper interrupted. Brown was watching the argument between Jefferson and Park with increasing contemplation. “I think we should get Ms. Abouesse down to the station. Could you—?”

  Brown nodded a little regretfully and said, “I’ll make the call.” She walked away with a final curious glance back at them.

  “Maybe this isn’t the place to discuss Whittaker’s ‘profile,’” Cooper murmured as soon as Brown was a safe distance away.

  “The keys. It’s too obvious. Sloppy,” Park said, as if Cooper hadn’t spoken.

  “Did you expect the wolf to clean up after himself?” Jefferson sounded genuinely amused. “First you don’t bring him in because he doesn’t seem like a criminal, and now you think he’s being framed because he’d be too good a criminal to leave behind evidence?”

  “I don’t see why Whittaker wouldn’t try and hide his tracks,” Park said. “He’s not stupid.”

  “The evidence indicates otherwise,” Jefferson replied, bagging the keys.

  Park just smiled back with more patience than actual good humor, and Cooper said nothing. Whittaker had run. And he was the only common link. His other suspect was dead and Baker...

  Jefferson looked at Cooper and asked, “Rudi Abouesse—that’s the alpha you were telling me about?”

  “Right,” Cooper said, voice tight. Park still wasn’t looking at him. His body was tense, angry.

  Jefferson nodded. “Good. We should get her fingerprinted. She may be involved as well.” He flagged down a uniform and stepped aside to give him the bagged keys and some instructions.

  Cooper moved closer to Park and spoke in a low voice, “I wasn’t trying to go behind your back with this.” Park looked at him blankly, mask firmly in place, and Cooper felt a twinge of something like panic. What if Park didn’t believe him?

  “I just wanted to wait, to tell you in person be-because...” Cooper stuttered into silence, unsure how to explain his need to prove to himself that nothing had changed without sounding like something had changed. “Look, I really do think Whittaker knows more than he’s letting on. He led us to Baker. Now Baker is missing. Plus Brown isn’t such a great alibi and I think you know why.”

  Park pursed his lips but didn’t deny it. He glanced at the chief speaking with Harris, a cold, grim expression on her face as they oversaw the Florence uniforms solemnly paw through Mike Miller’s minimal items.

  Cooper continued, “We—I honestly thought we needed to talk to him again. And now he’s run so...”

  “So he must be guilty?” Park asked, voice equally low. “Clearly you’ve never been in the position of being assumed guilty before proven innocent because of who you are.”

  That hurt. Cooper had to swallow the retort You don’t know anything about my life. It hadn’t exactly been a picnic being out as a gay man in the bureau or even growing up Jewish in a small fishing town of Maryland. But though he’d been through some shit, so far in his life he’d never had to doubt the law would come down on his side if it really went to hell. Not that the law wasn’t on Whittaker’s side. If he was innocent they would find out. Something made a whole lot more difficult when Whittaker wasn’t around.

  “I...” Cooper had a feeling he was fucking something up. But what exactly, the case or his tentative connection with Park, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he didn’t know what to say to fix it. Not without Jefferson thinking he wasn’t acting like himself and more questions about that wouldn’t do him or Park any good.

  Park shook his head and started to walk away and Cooper reached out and grabbed his arm then dropped it immediately as if burned. The gesture felt too intimate now, somehow. Like his muscle memory would take over and he wouldn’t be able to resist
pulling Park all the way against his body.

  Cooper took a deep breath. “I just want to find out what’s going on here before anyone else gets killed, Oliver. I swear to you.”

  Park eyed him for a moment, blank face unreadable. “Okay,” he said calmly. “Then I guess we better talk to Rudi. I’ll see you back at the station, Dayton.” He nodded, still painfully polite, and walked away.

  Cooper shoved aside a wave of irrational frustration and resisted the urge to grab him again, muscle memory be damned. It didn’t make sense, but he wished Park would get angry with him. Upset, disappointed, something. Anything but this shutting out. The mask was for other people.

  Cooper frowned at that oddly possessive thought. Park didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t owe Park anything. Last night was casual stress relief. That’s it. And it obviously couldn’t happen again.

  ...Right? He kicked himself.

  “What was that about?” Jefferson asked, and Cooper jumped. He wondered how long Jefferson had been listening. Not that there was anything to hear.

  Cooper’s frustration with himself latched on to his partner. “Did you have to be so—” he struggled “—I don’t know, rude?”

  Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

  “You made it sound like we were purposefully cutting him out of the loop. I just don’t—” Cooper sighed. This was not his day for complete sentences apparently.

  “I didn’t think you cared.”

  “Look, Santiago told me to make this partnership work and I just—I feel like we offended him.”

  Jefferson was regarding him thoughtfully. Finally he nodded. “Sorry, Dayton. It wasn’t my intention to make things more difficult for you with the wol—Agent Park. You know I don’t always think too much before talking. Do you want me to apologize to him?”

  “No, of course not,” Cooper muttered, feeling more like a sulky child than ever. “I’m the one he’s pissed at. I’m sorry, Jefferson. I’m just sick of this case, is all.”

  Jefferson nodded. “We’re almost done, kid. Don’t lose sight of it now.”

  “Lose sight of it? I feel like I haven’t seen shit yet. Every time I think I know something, I turn out to be dead wrong.”

  “Don’t doubt yourself, Dayton. You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for. Look, how about you and Park take the lead on questioning Abouesse? Would that help smooth things over?”

  Cooper smiled at his partner. “Thanks, Jefferson. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I. And by the looks of things, not a minute too soon.”

  * * *

  The Florence interrogation room was brighter than most Cooper had seen. The fluorescent lights and the plastic and metal chairs made the room feel more like a particularly bland office than a police station.

  Despite how long Rudi Abouesse had been there waiting, she had not taken an uncomfortable seat but stood in the corner, facing out. Park did not sit either, stalking purposefully across the little room to stand in front of Abouesse. Cooper followed at what he hoped was a respectful distance.

  True to his word, at the station Jefferson had asked Park if he wanted to take lead on this, an olive branch Cooper had appreciated.

  “You’ll probably get more out of her than either of us,” Jefferson had said as they watched Abouesse stand stiffly with her hands crossed over her chest and glare at the one-way glass. “Dayton, do you want to join Agent Park? I can wait out here and make sure we don’t have any spectators.”

  Now Park stood in front of Rudi, blocking her in the corner, but she didn’t back up or look away from him once. They stared at each other, having some sort of nonverbal conversation, and Cooper took the opportunity to look her over.

  Rudi Abouesse had thick black hair, tanned, leathery skin and brown eyes that were almost black.

  He knew from Park that she was originally from Quebec, well respected by the northeast packs and currently in her fifties, though she could have passed for thirty. A hard-lived thirty, anyway. There were sharp puckers of scars dragging across her arms like whip welts, and despite the proud defiance in her eyes, there was exhaustion there, too. And worry. Worry about Whittaker.

  Cooper cleared his throat but was ignored. He took a step closer and stuck his hand in between Park and Abouesse without touching, feeling like a referee at a boxing match. He waved his hand a little.

  “Hello,” he said. “You must be Rudi Abouesse. My name is Agent Dayton with the BSI, and you seem to already be acquainted with Agent Park.”

  Neither of them even glanced at him, but the silence at least was broken.

  “What the fuck, Rudi?” Park said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

  “Where’s Whittaker?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’m going to find him one way or another, you know that, and if you’ve helped him run—”

  “I haven’t done shit. And neither has Sam.” She looked at Cooper then. Not a friendly look. Her face seemed sharper, suddenly. As if the bones of her cheeks and jaw could cut through her skin. “If you’re going to believe goddamn BSI over—”

  Park took a step forward, blocking Cooper from Rudi, his back straight and his chest out. His voice had gone all deep and rumbling again. “Leave him out of it,” he warned, and Rudi’s death glare flickered a little in surprise. “I told Sam to stay and he didn’t.”

  Park’s stare was so intense his eyes practically glowed. In fact, they were glinting a bit. The color had changed yet again, to an almost yellow gold, and were larger than normal, the whites of his eyes thin crescent moons bookending the sun. Cooper felt an involuntary shiver race up his spine. He glanced nervously behind him at the one-way glass. Hopefully Jefferson was able to keep anyone else at the station from watching this interrogation that had just taken a turn for the unnatural.

  Rudi glared back, and this time Cooper did not interrupt. The pressure in the air built and built until finally she looked away and down. Her shoulders slumped and her neck tilted back slightly so that Cooper could see the pulse point in her neck slow as the tension eased out of her body.

  Park stepped away and the pressure in the air dissipated immediately. Cooper wondered if he’d even have been able to speak if he tried. The air had been so thick he couldn’t imagine sound traveling. Now he sucked in a couple breaths surreptitiously.

  “I don’t know where Sam is,” Rudi said quietly. “He’s been upset since you talked to him. Rambling all sorts of conspiracy theories and shit. I got him calmed down and he said he was going home to sleep. Then this morning I got a voice mail and he’s all hyped up again. Kept asking why Mac and Tonya stopped fighting and to call him back. He didn’t say anything about running. I called him back and he didn’t pick up. He didn’t show up to his lunch shift. Next thing I know I got Florence PD calling me in for harboring a fugitive. That’s all I know. And if you don’t believe—”

  “We believe you,” Cooper interrupted, and Park and Rudi both looked at him, equally surprised. Yup. Still here. “I believe you, anyway.”

  Rudi flashed her teeth at him. “What makes you think I care?”

  Park stepped forward again, his body practically vibrating as a low growl filled the room.

  Cooper held out his hands before they could go down that road again. Forcing his voice to stay steady, he said, “You’re right. You don’t have to care. I was just hoping to move on. May I ask a question?”

  Rudi’s eyes narrowed, but Park rumbled, “Go ahead, Agent Dayton.”

  “Who are Mac and Tonya?”

  “Pack leaders out of Worcester,” Rudi said slowly.

  “What did Whittaker mean? When were they fighting?”

  “Why, so you can shoot them for it and claim self-defense of your sensibilities? Or do you think they were fighting over who got to pick off th
e next human? They were in town for less than a day. Neither of those packs had anything to do with this.”

  “Rudi,” Park snapped. “Leave it. He’s not an idiot. Just answer his question.”

  Cooper probably shouldn’t have felt a flush of happiness that Park had called him “not an idiot” but he did.

  Rudi was sucking her teeth but finally, reluctantly said, “Mac and Tonya were both moving their packs up north at the same time. Unfortunate, because they’ve never gotten along. Not even before their divorce.” Rudi rolled her eyes. “One thing led to another and their packs got into it in the parking lot. Tonya accused Mac of running off one of her pack. Some young stud she’d taken up with apparently had gone MIA and she thought Mac had something to do with it. It wasn’t a big deal. Over before it even really started. No one submitted to anyone and everyone was drinking together fifteen minutes later.”

  Cooper blinked a little at the soap-opera-like dramas of the packs, but Park looked unsurprised, so maybe this sort of thing was typical. Cooper asked, “This was Saturday? The day Chief Brown came by?” She hadn’t mentioned any trouble.

  “Yeah, but it was long over by the time she got there. It really wasn’t a big deal.”

  “If it wasn’t a big deal, any idea why Whittaker would care?”

  Rudi shifted uncomfortably. “Your boy, Gould, he got involved.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “I don’t need BSI in my business. And it wasn’t a big deal. He just got into it with them a bit. Making a stink, as usual. I don’t know why Sammy puts up with that kid, I really don’t.”

  Park said quietly, “You could put a stop to it, if you really wanted to.”

  Rudi gave Park a look that would send most men running with their hands over their testicles, but he didn’t flinch. There was still an edgy taste of challenge in the air between them.

  “What was Gould making a stink about?” Cooper asked.

  “First he was fighting with Sammy. Wanted him to go somewhere with him. Then he was in the parking lot fighting with the Worcester packs. Said someone had siphoned gas out of his bike.”