The call went straight to voice mail. Why would Park have turned his phone off? Not to get coffee, surely. Cooper went to the door and, after sending a quick plea out into the universe that Jefferson wasn’t walking by at the moment, opened it and stepped onto the outside walkway overlooking the parking lot. The rental car was still there, unmoved from last night. Jefferson’s was gone, though.
The image of Park and Jefferson driving somewhere together without telling him flashed through his head, and he dismissed it immediately. No way. Especially not after the way they’d left things last night.
Cooper went back inside. He should get a move on and start the day. He still wanted to follow up with that couple at Bear’s who may have witnessed something of Jenny’s attack, and the coroner would have a report on Officer Mike Miller by now.
But he felt reluctant to leave with Park MIA. Goddamn morning people, throwing his schedule off. He thought back to the last two mornings. Yesterday Park had left to shower and dress in his own room, but before Cooper had used the shower this morning it had been dry, untouched.
The morning before that Park had been in jogging clothes. He had obviously been running, his hair and body sweaty, but his clothes had been fresh and dry.
...just inconvenient. Being naked. The memory snuck up on Cooper, and he smiled faintly at how embarrassed he’d been at the time. Park said he shifted in the mornings. Maybe he’d gone somewhere to run around as a wolf for a bit. Cooper tried to remember if Park had had his phone on him that day. Perhaps he’d left it behind when he shifted and the battery was just dead.
Cooper did a cursory search of the room for Park’s phone or any sort of clue as to where he’d be. A note, for example, would have been nice.
At first it made him edgy, the thought of Park returning as he was rifling through his drawers, elbow-deep in his underwear. But after a while with no sign of phone or note or clue, Cooper began hoping Park would catch him snooping. At least then he’d be back. He didn’t come across anything helpful. Though in the nightstand he did find a well-thumbed Chilean novel—intimidating for someone who could ask for directions to the library in Spanish but not read a goddamn thing once he got there—and a discreet pair of reading glasses which made him smile in a way he was glad Park wasn’t there to see.
Eventually, Cooper went to his own room to get changed, but not before snagging both the rental car keys and the spare key card he’d found on the nightstand. He didn’t know why he might need to return to Park’s room, but he wanted to keep his options open.
As he was getting dressed, Cooper’s cell buzzed and he nearly knocked himself out hurrying to answer it with his pants only half on.
“Dayton,” he breathed heavily.
There was a pause as if the other person was startled and then a woman’s voice. Not Park. “I got that information from Tonya and Mac.”
“Ru—Ms. Abouesse?”
“Who else?” Rudi snapped.
“Right. Of course.” Cooper struggled to remember what information he’d requested from Rudi. “Did you find out why the packs stopped fighting?”
“Yeah, Gould called the police.”
Cooper sat on the bed. “What? No he didn’t.” Florence may not have a lot of experience with violent crime, but a 911 call from the missing person at the time of disappearance would surely have been noted.
“He did,” Rudi argued. “They both swear they heard it. And Tonya says later she saw a state vehicle pulling round the back.” She paused. “She also said Sam called and asked the same thing.”
“And she gave him the same information?”
“Yeah.”
“Any word yet from Whittaker?”
Rudi snarled and the phone crackled.
Cooper would take that as a no. “What about Park? Oliver?”
“What about him?”
“Have you—” Cooper stopped, unsure how much he wanted to reveal. “Did you tell him this yet?”
“I hadn’t heard back from Tonya when he called me at the ass crack of dawn. He said to call you when I knew.”
“Right,” Cooper said, his heart pounding. “And that thing he called you about this morning, any updates on that?”
“No. I still haven’t seen Baker. I told him that. Not for over two weeks now when he came to the Pumphouse wanting me to do something about trespassers on his property.”
“Right. And did you?”
“With two BSI sanctions on my head? I told him to go to the cops or deal with it himself, but leave me out of it.”
Cooper frowned. “Thank you, Ms. Abouesse. One more thing—where would Park go to get coffee around here?”
There was a huffing sound. “You’ve got some nerve. Who do you think I am, town tour guide?”
“That’s not—” But he was talking to himself. Call ended.
Cooper finished getting dressed and pulled up cafés in the area on his phone. There were two in walking distance. One was a chain, and Cooper felt sure he would have remembered the familiar logo on the cup yesterday. The second was called Spill the Beans. It was a bit farther from the motel, but he could see Park putting in the extra distance to support a punny independent business.
Hopefully.
As soon as he walked into Spill the Beans, he knew he’d made the right choice. Cooper recognized the slightly off-white to-go cups and blocky brown font.
“Morning. Can I help you?” A young woman with violet hair, glasses and multiple piercings smiled faintly at him.
“Do you know an Oliver Park?”
The girl raised one eyebrow; the silver ring there twitched. “If this is a pickup line, dude, it’s way too early for that.”
Cooper flushed. “No. No, I’m trying to find out if my...friend came in here this morning.” He stumbled slightly on friend. It was because he was going to call him his partner but decided the locals didn’t need to know the visiting agents couldn’t even keep track of each other, never mind the unsub.
The girl heard the hitch and assumed it was for a different and not altogether untrue reason. “Oh, I get it.” She looked him over again, a more open and relaxed assessment, and then nodded to herself as if she’d found whatever she’d been looking for. Cooper tried not to fidget in annoyance. “All right, what’s your friend look like?”
“Uh, in his thirties, dark brown hair, brown eyes, a bit taller than me. Very, ah, fit.”
Unbelievably strong. A disarmingly vulnerable smile. Gorgeous. Sweet. Clever.
“Kind of an expressionless face,” Cooper finished awkwardly.
“Yikes.” The girl shook her head. “What the hell is wrong with you losing someone like that?” She gave him a sympathetic look. “No tall, dark and handsome men came in this morning. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for you, too. When you find him, put a leash on him.” She laughed, but Cooper felt too jumpy to join in.
He made some vague noises that were meant to convey thanks and disappointment and wandered back to the car. He tried calling Park again. Voice mail.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
Cooper sat in the driver’s seat and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Not with Oliver.
He took a deep breath.
“I’m a thirtysomething-year-old male. I gave up being a professor to join the Trust and protect wolves. I left my family’s pack but claim there’s no bad blood between us and am defensive of them. I’m...protective.”
What had Park said yesterday? I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Was that the general sort of mushy crap people said naked or did Park actually think Cooper was in danger? From who?
He had lied to Jefferson about why he requested to be put on this case. And Cooper hadn’t missed that Park had used sex as a distraction, admittedly successfully, when the subject had come up again. But then later he’d implied he was here because
of the history of missing werewolves, of which there were many, and apparently more every minute.
Why had Park called Rudi so early to ask about Baker?
Cooper opened his eyes, started the car and called Jefferson.
“Dayton?”
“Where are you?”
“At the station. Are you on your way in?”
“No.” Cooper reversed the car and got on the road. He knew the answer but had to ask anyway. “Is Park there?”
Jefferson paused. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen him and I’ve been here all morning. Slacking off, is he?”
“No. No, something’s wrong. I think he’s in trouble.”
Jefferson huffed into the phone. “He’s a wolf, Dayton. He can take care of himself.”
“But that’s not true, is it?”
There was another pause. “What do you mean?”
“Forget it. I just... I think we’ve been looking at this the wrong way, and I think Park is in danger.”
“What do you need me to do?” Jefferson said immediately. Not questioning Cooper’s instincts. Cooper took a moment to be grateful he had a partner like Jefferson.
“Everything keeps coming back to Baker’s. I’m going to start there.”
“And then what, wander around the woods whistling for him?” Jefferson’s voice was harsh, as if Cooper needed reminding what a stupid plan this was.
“Gould called the police right before he disappeared.”
“No he didn’t. There’d be a record of a 911 call.”
“Not if he didn’t call 911.”
“You think the unsub is one of Florence’s own department?”
“I think he called the personal number of someone with a state vehicle to pick up him and his bike when his gas was stolen. Gould’s bike is at Baker’s...”
“So if Gould was taken alive, he might not be too far,” Jefferson finished.
Cooper squeezed the steering wheel so tight his knuckles popped. He needed to believe that Gould had been taken alive because he needed to believe Park had been, too. The others, Bornestein and Doe, had been held for a few days at least.
Better alive and tortured than dead and rotting somewhere, as Park said. It wasn’t as comforting as it had been before.
Jefferson said, “Come pick me up at the station. We’ll go together.”
“No,” Cooper said. “I’m closer. We don’t have time. Just meet me there. And, Jefferson, if the unsub is at the station...watch your back.”
Jefferson protested, “What if he’s already at Baker’s? I’m just supposed to let you go there by yourself?”
“Not exactly,” Cooper said with a deep breath.
Chapter Fourteen
Cooper slammed his fist against the Pumphouse door. Thud, thud, thud. Three official raps. He listened. Buzzing insects, the thrum of an air conditioner, a couple of birds calling out for their mates—sounds of a summer morning but no hint of movement within the Pumphouse.
He pounded on the door again and this time added a slap, whacking his palm against the warm wood. A desperate plea that took the demanding, authoritative edge off.
If Rudi Abouesse wasn’t here, Cooper didn’t know what he was going to do.
He barely had a plan A, never mind a plan B. He couldn’t go to the Florence PD for help. If he marched into the station claiming Agent Park had been abducted and one or more of Florence’s own law enforcement was responsible, he was either wrong and would irrevocably jeopardize the case, or he was right and he would irrevocably jeopardize Park. The choice was obvious. If the unsub knew Cooper was close, Park might be considered a loose end...
Cooper didn’t allow himself to go there.
He couldn’t involve anyone else. Not yet. Not until he knew he was right and knew Park was safe.
But even if Park had gone to Baker’s to sniff around that morning, Cooper wasn’t going to be able to track him. Not alone.
He pounded on the door once, twice, and before his fist could come down a third time, he heard a dead bolt slide and the door swung open.
Rudi Abouesse stared at him from the open doorway. It was a toss-up whether her expression was more hostile or disbelieving.
“Why aren’t you as sick of me as I am of you?” She looked over his shoulder. “You know, the good cop/bad cop routine is usually more effective with two people.”
The last remaining hope that Park had found his way here shriveled inside of Cooper.
“I need your help. Please.”
Rudi’s eyebrows shot up. She crossed her arms, leaned against the door frame and observed Cooper with a “this oughta be good” expression.
“I think the same person who took Gould has taken Park. Whittaker, too. And Baker.”
Rudi dropped her arms and stood up straight. “What?”
“Whoever Gould called that day has been hunting wolves. Symer, Whittaker, Baker, Park. They’re all victims, not suspects. I think that’s why Jenny Eagler was taken and released unharmed. She was seen to be friends with Park and, like me, the unsub thought that meant she was a wolf, too. Then she was released because she wasn’t.”
“Slow down,” Rudi said. “You’re not making sense. Come inside.”
“We don’t have time. Oliver is in danger.”
“From you?”
“No!” Maybe. How else would anyone here have known Park was a wolf? He pushed away the wave of guilt and panic. “Listen to me. You said he called you this morning asking about the last time you saw Baker.”
“I thought you said Baker wasn’t a suspect.”
“He’s not. Not anymore. I think. But last night Park was talking about werewolves that have gone missing around here and I joked that they were with Baker and... I think he realized our John Doe in the woods might be Baker.”
“Craz—Geoffery Baker is dead?” Rudi said. He was relieved to see the first traces of genuine panic in her eyes. The sooner she believed him, the sooner they could get out of here, the sooner they could find Park.
“I think so. More importantly I think he’s been dead for a while. I think Park went to shift at Baker’s place to get a better idea of who’s been using his property since then and why.”
Rudi was shaking her head. Not in disagreement, necessarily, more like she didn’t want to accept what Cooper was saying. But now that Cooper had said it out loud, he felt even more convinced his theory was right. “Park knows how to take care of himself.”
“The way Baker could take care of himself? Whittaker? Symer? This unsub knows how to take down wolves. They’ve done it before.”
“The other body that was found, the guy with Baker, he wasn’t a wolf. Neither was that cop.”
“So I should forget it? Pretend everything is fine?” Cooper snapped, losing the little patience he had.
Rudi’s eyes flashed, glowing and inhuman. Rather than feel fear, he just missed Park. He made a conscious effort to calm down. He hadn’t come here to challenge Rudi, he’d come here to beg for her help. The kind of help the BSI should have been taking advantage of from the start.
“Listen, you’re right. I don’t understand it all. But you said the Worcester packs saw a state car show up. That Gould called someone to pick him up. I think that someone has been using Baker’s house as a base. I think Park went there this morning and was caught off guard. I can’t prove any of it. But I haven’t been able to get a hold of him. Will you help me?”
Rudi assessed him for a long moment. “Fine. Let me just...” She started to turn back inside, and Cooper reached out to grab her arm. Before he’d even touched her skin his wrist was trapped in her death grip, though interestingly he noticed her claws hadn’t come out and he wondered why. Regardless, he didn’t struggle.
“You can’t tell Brown,” he said.
Rudi’s eyes narrowed. “How did you—I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’re seeing each other. I know you’re keeping it on the down low for some reason.”
She frowned. “It’s complicated. But that doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“You can’t tell her. Not yet.”
“This isn’t me gossiping with my girlfriend, asshole,” Rudi said. “She’s the chief of police. Of course I’m telling her. If this is some kind of posturing macho bullshit—”
Cooper was shaking his head. “Someone in a state vehicle picked up Gould.”
“Well, it wasn’t Mel,” Rudi snarled. Her grip tightened on his wrist painfully before she dropped it. “I know it’s not Melissa.”
“Does she know about wolves?”
Rudi’s gaze flinched away from his. “Not...yet.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
She stared Cooper directly in the eye. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He couldn’t tell if she was lying. He wasn’t sure it mattered. But he couldn’t let Rudi tell the chief. “All the more reason why you can’t tell her now. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know someone is hunting wolves and I wouldn’t want to pull someone I cared about into that situation without all the facts.”
Rudi hesitated.
“Please,” Cooper whispered. “I can’t take that chance.”
“All right,” she said finally. “What do you need me to do?”
* * *
The drive to Baker’s seemed to take three times as long as last time despite Cooper going twice as fast. Getting into an accident would help no one, but he had a difficult time focusing on the twisting mountain roads as the speedometer inched higher and higher. He couldn’t help picking out holes in his own half-assed plan. What if Park hadn’t gone to Baker’s? What if he’d been taken away in a closed car and Rudi wasn’t able to track Park’s scent? He was assuming Park was being held within ATV-traveling distance, but it was an assumption he made simply because the alternative didn’t leave him with any options.
Just like he was assuming Park was alive. He couldn’t deal with the alternative.
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