He looked at her. “You don’t relate at all, do you?”
“No.”
He drank more beer. “I thought maybe you would. Sometimes it seems like we think the same things. Sometimes you say things out loud that I’ve thought for years.”
“You too,” she said.
“But not this time.”
She studied her hands. “Not this time.”
He shrugged. “Oh well.”
“I don’t even think I understand what you’re saying.”
He leaned forward, grinning at her. “Well, maybe I’m making it more complicated than it actually is. The truth is, Dana, it’s disgusting. I don’t like looking at all the mutilated bodies. I lost my breakfast once.”
“My trainer says everyone throws up at first.”
“Did you?”
“Not yet.” She felt a little proud of her iron-clad stomach.
He laughed. “And, yeah, I want to drink beer. I want to go to college. I want to live my life. I’m not cut out to be a tracker.”
That made more sense to her. She wondered if he’d only said all that strange other stuff because he was embarrassed. It wasn’t a very macho thing to admit that gore disgusted him. She appreciated that he’d been honest with her. “I’m going to miss you. I thought maybe we’d even end up as partners someday.”
“I thought...” He bit his lip, gazing into her eyes. Then he looked away, blushing. “Dammit, Dana, can you come back when I’ve had enough alcohol to be braver?”
She wasn’t sure what he meant again, but his blush had somehow traveled to her, like it was contagious. She could feel heat in her cheeks. “We should, um, we should keep in touch.”
He smiled at her. “Definitely.”
But they didn’t really. Their lives went in opposite directions. She sometimes thought about writing to him, but she didn’t. And he didn’t write either. Or call. Or text.
If he hadn’t started killing people, she might never have seen him again.
* * *
Dana closed the door on the conference room where she’d been meeting with Beverly Martin, the second of the deliberate rogue werewolves. She and Avery had decided that the best place to start with Ursula’s order to look into the possibility that it wasn’t murder was to talk to each of the rogues. Hoping that gender solidarity might count for something, she’d taken Beverly, and Avery had spoken to Arnold.
Actually, near as she could tell, Avery was still speaking to Arnold, because he wasn’t out in the hallway waiting for her.
She took a deep breath, looking up and down the wing of the maximum security floor.
Cole was down here. He was further down the hallway. Up front, there was a cluster of conference rooms. Cells were further down.
She felt a crawling itch of desire make its way down her spine. She wanted to go find Cole.
Of course, she had no reason to see him, no excuse to talk to him again. She just wanted to.
Before she could stop herself, she’d peeled back enough of her layer of control to let out her wolf sense of smell. She caught Cole’s scent immediately.
She stood still for a few moments, just breathing it in. He was so close. Her longing surged inside her, like a live thing.
Couldn’t she make up some reason to see him? Certainly, she’d think of something plausible. She started down the hall, following the scent until she came to a closed door.
He was inside there. That was his cell.
She gazed at it, her heart speeding up.
“Miss Gray?” said the guard who was making his rounds up and down the hallway. “Did you want me to open that cell?”
She put her hand against the door. She should tell him no.
The voice came from within, behind the door. It was surprised but pleased. Deep and seductive. “Dana, is that you?”
She recoiled from the door as if it had suddenly burned her. She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Could you open the door?”
“Absolutely,” said the guard. “If you need me to.”
“I...” She hesitated.
And the sound of a door closing came from down the hall.
“Gray, what are you doing all the way down there?” said Avery as he came out of the conference room.
“Nothing,” she said, scurrying down to meet him.
He took her by the arm and led her to the elevator. Once the door was closed, and the guards couldn’t hear, he said, “You were going to see him, weren’t you?”
“No,” she said.
Avery rolled his eyes. “The guy tried to kill you. I’m not sure what the appeal is.”
“It’s not like that.”
“You look like some junior high student who got caught making out in the boiler room.”
“I do not.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Can we not talk about this?”
He shrugged. “You find out anything from Beverly?”
“No. She barely said a word, no matter what I asked. She kept saying she didn’t want to talk about it. You have better luck with Arnold?”
He shook his head. “He doesn’t know anything either.”
“Do you think that means something? That they’re both clueless?”
“I don’t think it means anything,” he said. “I don’t think there’s a connection. But I guess we’re going to have to do some more digging.”
“Right.” The elevator had reached their floor. They walked out. “So, should we check out Beverly or Arnold first?”
“Beverly’s actually got a family,” said Avery. “Arnold seems to only have dogs. We’d probably have better luck finding people to talk to there.”
“New York it is,” she said. “I call iPod control on the way up.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No fair. We hadn’t officially decided to go anywhere.”
She laughed.
* * *
Karl Martin had gray in his beard. He clutched a coffee cup that read, “World’s Greatest Dad,” as he sat on his couch in his living room. The room was messy. Takeout containers cluttered every available surface. He’d apologized about the state of the room at least four times. “Is this regular? I thought the SF would be giving Bev help now. Why do you need to talk to me?”
“It’s not exactly regular, Mr. Martin,” said Avery.
“Call me Karl,” said Karl. “What do you mean?”
“Your wife knew how to control her wolf,” said Dana. “Generally speaking, that means that she did what she did on purpose.”
“On purpose?” Karl held the coffee cup even tighter. “Is that what she said she did?”
“She’s not saying anything,” said Dana.
“That’s why we need to talk to you,” said Avery.
“We need to determine if her actions were intentional or not,” said Dana.
“But if she did it on purpose,” said Karl, “then that’s...”
“Murder. Yes, sir. You can see why this is serious,” said Avery.
Karl turned white behind his beard. “Murder.”
Dana wished she could comfort the poor man. He was clearly having a rough time of it. “We need to know more about your wife. In your opinion, is she capable of such a thing?”
“Of course not,” said Karl. “Beverly could never... hurt anyone.”
“How long have the two of you been married?” asked Avery.
“Um, about six years,” said Karl. “We waited until we could afford a nice wedding and for Beverly to lose the baby fat so she’d look nice in her dress.” He pointed at a picture amongst the clutter. It showed two girls with long hair. They were smiling identical smiles. “That’s why we have eight-year-old twins, and we’ve been married two years less than that.”
Dana felt bad for the man again. They weren’t here to judge his morals. “You aren’t a werewolf, correct?”
“That’s right,” said Karl.
“The two of you managed to reproduce without your catching the disease?” said Avery.
Kar
l toyed with his coffee cup. “I didn’t know at first. She was already pregnant with the twins by the time she told me. Afterwards, I was more... careful.”
That was a little strange. “She didn’t tell you?” said Dana.
“Not at first,” said Karl. “I think she was ashamed, honestly. It happened when she was a teenager, you know. She was a victim of an attack. She told me she’d only gone through the change once, and that was in the Sullivan Foundation. I don’t think she realized that she could be contagious.”
“She realized,” said Dana. “It’s part of the training at the SF to make sure that wolves understand how the disease spreads.”
“You didn’t think it was irresponsible of Beverly not to tell you she was a werewolf?” asked Avery.
Karl tried to set down his coffee cup, but there was too much clutter. “Maybe at the time. I don’t know. It was such a long time ago.”
Avery shrugged. “Personally, if that had been me, I would have been furious. Not only did she put you in danger, but there’s a chance that your daughters are going to be wolves as well. The disease can be passed down from mother to child. I’m sure you know that.”
Karl moved aside some paper bags, clearing a little space for his cup. “Did I ask the two of you if you wanted any coffee?”
“You did, and we’re fine,” said Dana.
“Are there any other instances in Beverly’s life in which she was careless about the fact she was a werewolf?” asked Avery.
“Careless?” said Karl. “I don’t know that she was careless exactly. She was young.”
“She was intimate with you without telling you she was a wolf,” said Avery. “Sounds careless to me.”
Karl rubbed his forehead. “I’m not trying to get Beverly into any trouble.”
“You’re not,” said Dana. “She’s done that to herself. It’s quite likely she will never be released from the Sullivan Foundation.”
“Never?” said Karl. He looked directly at Dana.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Unless you can tell us something that would prove she didn’t do what she did deliberately, we’ll have to rule the case murder.”
Avery glared at her. She wasn’t going with Ursula’s directive, was she? She was leading Karl in the opposite direction. She couldn’t help it, however. Maybe she wanted to keep the case ambiguous so that she’d have to go back and see Cole. Maybe she thought there might actually be something to what Cole had said. At any rate, she couldn’t undo it now.
“Well.” Karl leaned back on the couch, his posture relaxing. Was that a smile on his face? “To be honest, we’d been having problems for a while. I was angry with her. I felt like she’d trapped me in this marriage with her lies. A loveless marriage, considering I didn’t feel comfortable being intimate with her, given her disease. She and I lived together, but I can’t say we interacted much. I planned to stick it out until the twins had graduated from high school and then file for divorce.”
Dana was stunned. She hadn’t expected that.
“You’re sure she won’t get out?” Karl said, looking pleased at the prospect.
“Not sure,” said Dana.
“Fairly sure,” said Avery. “Did she ever indicate to you that she could be capable of doing something like what happened?”
“Not really,” said Karl. “But she could be... manipulative. And a little frightening. She’d let out a little part of the wolf sometimes in arguments. I didn’t like to cross her. I was never sure what she might be capable of. It’s probably safer for everyone if she is locked up. I’ll rest safer.”
“Do you think it’s possible she shifted on purpose?”
“Definitely possible,” said Karl. He looked into his coffee cup. “Are you going to tell her I said these things?”
“No,” said Avery.
“Would it be possible for us to talk to your daughters?” said Dana.
Avery shot her a confused look.
“I suppose so,” said Karl. “They’ve been staying with my mother for the past few days, but they’ll be home tomorrow, if you wanted to come back.”
“Excellent,” said Dana.
* * *
“I don’t get it,” said Avery. “The man practically hands us this lady on a platter. He says she’s manipulative and scary. He’s obviously afraid of her himself. It all fits with her being a murderer. And you want to talk to the kids? Why?” He had just pulled into the parking lot of a motel. He unclasped his seat belt.
“It’s not compelling proof,” said Dana. “He was in an unhappy marriage. Maybe he’s saying it to avoid a messy divorce. If she’s locked up, it makes things easier for him.”
“You don’t want her to have shifted on purpose, do you?” said Avery. “You want Randall to be right.”
“I want to be thorough,” said Dana.
“Not that Randall even said anything concrete.”
“It’s only another day,” said Dana.
“I hate sleeping in hotels,” said Avery.
“They’ve got HBO,” she said. “How bad could it be?”
Avery massaged the bridge of his nose. “Gray, I can’t help but think that whatever you feel for Randall is getting in the way of your good judgment on this case.”
She sighed. “Jesus, Brooks, give it a rest.” She got out of the car and slammed the door.
Avery scrambled out after her. “I’m calling what I’m seeing here.”
She didn’t look at him as she started for the lobby. “You used to be on my side.”
“I am on your side,” he said, walking quickly to keep up. “I don’t know if you’re on your side.”
What did that even mean? Dana didn’t think it meant anything. She swung open the door to the lobby. Mercifully, Avery didn’t keep yammering about it while she booked two rooms for them on the SF credit card.
But the minute they were at her door, he was coming in behind her. “I’m not letting this go.”
She turned on the light in the room. It was a typical motel room—all mauves and light blues. If Avery wanted to be like this about it, then maybe she couldn’t stop him. She sat down on the bed and looked at him expectantly. “Fine, lecture me on how twisted and messed up I am. Tell me how sick it is to be obsessed with the man who tried to kill me. I haven’t thought any these thoughts myself, Brooks, so I need you to enlighten me.”
He shut the hotel room door behind him and sagged against it. “Jesus, that’s not what I meant.”
She flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It had a large stain on it.
“Look, I know we never really talked about this kind of stuff.”
“Funny how unlikely it is that being attracted to psychotic killers isn’t a topic that often comes up in conversation.”
“So, you admit you’re attracted to him?” He pushed away from the door. “No. Sorry, don’t answer that. That wasn’t what I meant, anyway.” He pulled a chair out from a desk and sat down in it. “We were close, Gray. Before all this shit happened, we were close.”
“We were.”
“But we never talked about anything except work.”
“There was never anything to talk about besides work.”
“That’s not true. You had that relationship with the reporter guy. The one King wants to you to talk to. I had girlfriends.”
Dana propped herself up on her elbows, arching an eyebrow.
“I did,” said Avery.
“None of them lasted longer than two weeks,” she said.
“I’m young,” said Avery. “I’m sowing my oats or whatever.”
She laughed and flopped back on the bed.
“But, you know, we could talk about it,” said Avery. “Just because we never did doesn’t mean we can’t.”
Dana rolled over on her stomach. “There’s nothing to say.”
“See, Gray, that isn’t true. There’s a whole hell of a lot to say about this. Maybe you don’t want to say it, but there’s layers and layers of weird here.”
/>
She sighed. “I get what you’re trying to do here, Brooks, but it’s not necessary. I appreciate it. Really.” She sat up. “Thanks. Now go to your own room.”
Avery didn’t move. “Is it because he saved your life when you were in high school?”
“No,” she said. “It’s because I’m, you know, fucked in the head. Bad shit happened to me, and I’m not dealing with it very well.”
“I don’t think you’re fucked in the head.”
“Yes, you do.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just don’t get it.”
“Neither do I.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to feel this way. It’s like I can’t control it.”
He was quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Okay. I guess I can see that.”
“Really?”
“Maybe it’s like how some people are turned on by feet or whatever.”
She pulled a pillow out from under the bland motel quilt and hurled it at him. “It’s not a fetish, Brooks.”
He caught the pillow. “So, what is it? I don’t understand.”
She wanted to tell him to forget about it, but when she looked into his eyes, he seemed so earnest and confused that she couldn’t. Avery was her partner. They’d been through a lot together. She trusted him, and he trusted her. Maybe she could open up a little bit. Maybe she owed him that much if she was going to ask him to have her back. “I guess it’s like any other attraction you’d feel for someone. Only I know it’s not... right. And I...” She took a deep breath. “I hate him.”
Avery set the pillow on the floor.
“But it’s not that simple. I hate him, but I think about him. I... want him. And then I hate myself for wanting him, and I hate him for being wantable, and I...” She closed her eyes. Rubbed her forehead with two fingers. “It’s confusing.”
“Okay,” said Avery. He got out of the chair and sat down next to her on the bed.
She looked up at him, biting her lip. “I know that doesn’t make any sense, but that’s why it’s so bad. Because it’s completely senseless.”
“Okay,” he said. “I get that it’s bad. I won’t...” He looked down at the bed. “I won’t give you any more shit about it.”
“You’ve been fine.”
“No, I think I’ve been making it worse.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m here for you, okay?”
She gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re my best friend.”
She squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
He swallowed. “So, look, I have to ask you, and I promise I won’t ask again, but you have to be honest with me.”
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