Mate's Call

by Lola Gabriel

No! You must not be there tomorrow, he told himself. You’re trying to cast suspicion away from the pack. You cannot afford to tie yourself up in this any more than you already have. You should not have volunteered to access her money. And if she is granted bail, she’ll be back on the streets with a potential target on her back. She can’t go home. The women’s prison is the best place for her. It’s got other dangers, but at least she’ll be alive.

  “Sheriff?” she called plaintively, and he shifted his gaze away.

  “Yes, I will be there for your arraignment,” he told her.

  He saw relief flood her face, and she reached a slender hand through the bars to gesture for him to come closer.

  “All of the information to my accounts is in a portable safe in my bedroom bathroom, beneath the false bottom of the sink cabinet. The code is 1819. I have no idea how much you’ll need, but I can sign over power of attorney to you, provided you ensure I am not traced back to this town.”

  Her eyes were pleading and wide, her hand outstretched as if yearning for contact. He could read the terror in her face.

  “This is very important to me,” she muttered. “Do you think you can help me while keeping me protected? I have a feeling that the guy in my house was sent from someone in New York. It is not just about me hiding from a mess I left back there. It’s about my life being in danger.”

  Gabriella had not needed to tell him that; he had figured as much, but he did not want to say anything until he had concrete proof to his claim.

  After scrolling through interviews and red-carpet strolls, Cameron had come across the situation with New York City’s mayor, David Charlotte. The mayor had confessed to the affair after pictures had emerged with him and an unknown brunette. He immediately claimed his lover to be the world-renowned model, Gabriella Medina. The model had vehemently denied any such tryst had occurred, but her word was not accepted and the media had turned on her overnight. She had become a laughingstock, a pariah, scorned by all avenues of society and dropped from some of her more family-oriented assignments.

  It’s no wonder she hid in Montana, he thought grimly. Cameron tried not to judge the girl for her past mistakes, but that one was difficult to overlook. She had almost ruined a man’s career and family without even having the decency to admit her fault. Of course, it takes two to tango. The mayor wasn’t innocent in the situation. Still, it didn’t give anyone the right to threaten her life, and Cameron intended to learn who had sent out the order for her demise.

  “I understand,” Cameron told her earnestly, again turning away from the cell. The other officers were watching him on camera, but he cared less than he had before.

  My job is to serve and protect, and I will do it for anyone as I am sworn to do, he thought firmly. He owed no one an explanation for anything.

  As he left the stationhouse and headed toward Gabriella’s home, he wondered, then, why he felt so guilty.

  Probably because what I am doing is highly illegal, he reasoned. He pressed harder on the gas. There wasn’t much time to do what he had to do.

  8

  The county courthouse was minutes away from the police station where Gabby was being held, but when she entered it, she felt as if she was in a different world. Gone was the semi-country feel of Great Falls, and she was enveloped in a feeling of terror.

  “Just let me do the talking,” the nervous lawyer at her side instructed, but Gabriella could see beads of sweat formulating on his forehead.

  A terrifying thought occurred to her as she glanced into the half-full courtroom. He’s not here, she thought, panicked, when she didn’t see Cameron Lapin. He’s not here and there is no guarantee that I will get bail anyway!

  “Case number 642167, the people versus Grace Kelly…” The clerk glanced up to stare at Gabriella as if she was mocking him, and she averted her eyes immediately, allowing her long hair to cover her cheeks.

  God, what if someone recognizes me? They’re going to find out who I am eventually, won’t they? Her heart hammered to almost dangerous proportions. Am I going to faint? What if I faint? Will they postpone the—

  “How do you plead, princess?” the judge intoned without humor as he eyed her with contempt.

  The judge hates me already and he hasn’t even heard anything.

  She reasoned in a town the size of Great Falls, what had happened was hardly a well-kept secret.

  “Not guilty, Your Honor,” Tristan called. The old judge glowered at the attorney.

  “Mr. Bosley, you may think yourself a princess, but I was talking to Miss Kelly. I would like to hear it from her.”

  Tristan’s already pale face turned crimson as he nudged her.

  “Not guilty, Your Honor,” she breathed.

  The elderly man continued to scrutinize her through half-moon glasses as if trying to assess how such a small thing could have committed such a big crime.

  “Ms. Manor?” Abruptly, he turned to the prosecuting attorney, who smirked smugly at Gabriella before launching into her defense.

  “Your Honor, Miss Kelly appeared out of nowhere, she has been in Great Falls for less than two weeks, and she has already become a public danger. She is charged with murdering a man in cold blood—”

  “Cold blood?” Tristan interrupted. “Your Honor, the unidentified man at the scene was armed and broke into my client’s house while she slept! This woman is—”

  “A killer!” Julia Manor sang in an almost perverse tone. Even Gabriella could not resist staring at her in disbelief. “Maybe your client does know who he is and lured him to his death, Bosley. Did that ever occur to you? Maybe that was her entire purpose for coming to Great Falls in the first place.”

  “Are you talking to the defense, Ms. Manor?” the judge demanded, and Julia Manor lost her taunting expression immediately.

  “I apologize, Your Honor. Of course not. I am only presenting to the court that there is much about this woman we do not know.”

  “What do we know about the prosecutor?” Tristan countered, glaring at the pinch-faced blonde across the room.

  “What do you want, Ms. Manor?” Judge Chandler sighed, sitting back in his high-back chair as if he had already had enough of the theatrics.

  “Remand, sir. She has no ties to the community, no family, no—”

  “No record!” Tristan shot out. “She has no reason to flee.”

  “Your Honor,” another voice said, “if it pleases the court?” The players turned to look at a well-dressed man in a three-piece Gucci suit who had just entered the courtroom.

  “Ah, shit,” Gabby heard the prosecutor mutter.

  “Mr. Seaver,” the judge announced, his own eyes narrowing at the sight of the overdressed man. “To what do I owe the agony?”

  “I have recently been obtained to represent Miss Kelly in her defense,” the attractive stranger announced. “I would like to say that I am willing to present any bond you deem reasonable and take full responsibility for her if you should have her released.”

  Gabriella peered strangely at the man, looking past him for Cameron—surely this must be his doing—but the sheriff was not in the courtroom.

  “Your Honor!” Julia Manor cried. “Just because Cory Seaver waltzes in here in his Gucci shoes—”

  “They’re Armani, actually,” the lawyer piped up. “But do continue.”

  She glowered at the man before turning back to the judge. “It doesn’t change the fact that Grace Kelly is a flight risk.”

  “Any amount you deem reasonable, Your Honor,” Mr. Seaver called again.

  “Sounds good to me, Ms. Manor. Bail is set at one million, cash or bond,” Judge Chandler announced, slamming his gavel, a relieved expression crossing over his face. “Next case.”

  The bailiff came to escort Gabriella back to the pen, but Cory Seaver hurried forward.

  “Don’t take her too far, Carl,” he told the guard. “She’s coming back up within the hour.”

  Carl grunted in response, but nodded. Mr. Seaver stared after her
, winking confidentially.

  “Nice meeting you, Grace!” he called after her, and Gabriella could hear a slight mocking in his tone. She wanted to ask about Cameron, wanted to ask the lawyer if he had sent him.

  “Where is—”

  “See you soon!” Mr. Seaver yelled, cutting her off.

  Gabby immediately understood: Cameron had sent the attorney in his place.

  Of course. The sheriff can’t be caught helping me. He would get into too much trouble.

  Gabriella did not know whether to be grateful or angry.

  He could have warned me at least, she thought, but she immediately felt ashamed. He risked a lot helping you already. He could have just taken your money and laughed in your face. It would have been your word against his. And, your word as both Grace Kelly and Gabriella Medina sucks right now. You wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Not for the first time, Gabby thought about what a conundrum of emotions Cameron Lapin put her through.

  He seems to hate me and then he helps me. He arrests me and then tries to get me released. Why is he so hot and then so cold?

  She had no answer for her questions, but in that moment, she had no reason to be anything but thankful he had come through for her.

  Mr. Seaver seems like a mouthpiece, she thought. She needed someone who could handle her case, not a meek mouse of a boy who could barely win a bail hearing.

  The cell door slammed behind her, and Gabby slunk into a corner to sit on the scarred bench.

  “Well, ain’t you a pretty one,” one of the two other women in the prison leered, licking her lips. “You comin’ back to the prison with us, honey?”

  Gabby ignored her, gently tugging on her long, dark hair. It was a nervous habit she had forsaken years ago, but in her helplessness, she had found herself doing it with much more frequency over the past days.

  If I ever make it out of this alive, I will never look for travel advice on a dingy New York subway car again.

  “Oh, you too good for us, you uptight bitch?” the fleshy, middle-aged blonde asked, slinking closer to her, her stained red lips sneered upward. “You’re gonna be one of us soon, princess. You best lose that holier-than-thou stick in your ass. Why dontcha come here? I can give you some pointers.”

  “Leave her alone, Lulu,” the other one snapped. “She’s not staying. Can’t you see she’s wearing five-hundred-dollar jeans?”

  Lulu stepped back and examined the tiny brunette before her. She grimaced.

  “I guess she can afford to buy her way outta here, huh?” Lulu growled, spitting at Gabby’s feet. “Must be nice.”

  Gabriella bit back a scathing comment, knowing that she was not out of the woods yet.

  You are close to tasting freedom. You don’t want to get your ass kicked before you leave, she reminded herself.

  Lulu smirked, and Gabby moved her eyes away.

  As soon as I get out of here, I will run. Maybe I’ll head south to Mexico. I should have gone to Mexico in the first place, she reprimanded herself. It will be much easier to get lost south of the border, and then I can find a place to go without an extradition treaty to the US. I will need a fake ID, more money… Shit, how am I going to get more money? I can’t ask the sheriff. He’s not going to let me jump bail.

  She needed to find someone to help her, but who could she trust?

  A guard—a woman instead of Carl—walked up to the gate to unlock it.

  “Come on, Kelly,” she called. “Your bail has been posted.”

  “Look at that, Karen,” Lulu said to her companion. “You was right. The uppity bitch is leaving us already.”

  Again, Gabby bit her lower lip to keep from responding as she hurried away from the women.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again, princess,” Lulu called, spitting again. “When your rich sugar daddy is sick of you, I’ll be waitin’.”

  “That’ll do, Lulu,” Karen called. “If it was meant to be, she’ll be back to us soon enough.”

  The words sent a chill of apprehension through Gabriella, but she refused to show she was intimidated, shooting Lulu a cocky smile as the guard locked her back inside.

  “I am in for murdering my sugar daddy,” Gabby called back at them. “And his wife.” She relished the look of surprise passing over Lulu’s face, but Karen smirked, turning her head as if she knew the words were false.

  “You shouldn’t antagonize them, Kelly,” the female guard muttered as they headed out of the bowels of the courthouse. “You never know what the future holds. You may end up being one of their bitches.”

  The cold truth of the statement made Gabby dizzy.

  They can’t try me if they can’t find me, she told herself reassuringly. Mexico is a big country and they aren’t going to waste manpower searching for the suspected killer of a nobody. His fingers were too shredded to gather prints for identification and the ones on the gun were inconclusive.

  They took the elevator to the main floor where Mr. Seaver was examining his Rolex with an almost amused impatience.

  “Ah! There she is,” he announced happily as Gabriella appeared. “Thanks, Gert.”

  Gert, the guard, nodded at Mr. Seaver, unlocking Gabriella’s cuffs before sauntering away down the hall. Gabriella noticed the guard swinging her hips as if hoping Cory Seaver was watching her ample bottom.

  He was.

  Gabriella stood, annoyed as the lawyer ogled the corrections officer.

  “I do miss the feel of small towns,” he sighed, wrenching his sparkling gray eyes from the retreating woman’s figure. Gabby shuddered slightly, trying to strike the image of the lawyer bedding the guard. “Cory Seaver,” the attorney announced, sticking forth a beautifully manicured hand. “I am glad to see you intact.”

  Gabriella blinked.

  “Intact?” she echoed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Cory laughed and gestured for the exit.

  “I have been in the bullpen. It is not a nice place for a gorgeous woman,” he replied. “Are you hungry? I know this town doesn’t have much, but Chappy’s Grill is pretty good, and I could definitely use a beer.”

  Gabriella found herself nodding. She had been living off fast food for the past few days, and she could use a beer herself.

  “I thought so,” Cory chuckled, leading her to a black BMW and opening the passenger side for her to step in.

  “Who… How did you get hired?” she asked when he settled into the driver’s seat.

  He cast her a sidelong look. “I think you know how that happened,” he replied. “But we’re not going to talk about that, all right? Our mutual friend is in enough trouble as it is.”

  Gabriella nodded quickly, a stab of shame coursing through her. I was right; I put the sheriff in an impossible position.

  “We can talk business over lunch, but I want you to forget anything you have told anyone up to this point,” Seaver told her. “We are starting fresh. Strike all that you have said to anyone. We are going with a completely new theory of the crime.”

  Again, she bobbed her head and stared at her hands.

  Whatever strategy he has planned doesn’t matter. I am leaving for Mexico tonight. Just nod and smile, she told herself. Agree with everything he says.

  They drove in silence, but it was comfortable—each one seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. As they pulled up to Chappy’s Grill, Cory turned off the car and abruptly turned to look at her, his grey eyes unblinking.

  “I want you to know that I believe you,” he told her earnestly, and Gabriella gasped aloud. The words almost seemed to be in a foreign language.

  “You believe me?” she whispered.

  He nodded, and Gabby could read no mockery in his eyes. “This is not the first time a bizarre death like this has happened in Great Falls; albeit, this is the first time it has happened during an attempted murder.”

  “What?” Gabby gasped. “Wolves have killed others in these parts? Inside someone’s house?”

  Cory nodded, pulling his keys from his
ignition.

  “It’s been happening for a couple centuries, at least. The natives who lived around had their own stories about a mythical beast, and most people dismissed the tales as folklore, designed to scare little ones from venturing out at night.”

  “But you’ve seen this before?” Gabby asked excitedly, her hand against the dashboard. “Hasn’t anyone tried to find these animals? Maybe they’re rabid! They obviously don’t act like regular wolves. They should be found and euthanized!”

  Cory chortled.

  “Euthanized? You are from the city, aren’t you?” he chuckled. His face turned serious. “There have been many searches for the creatures, but they have never been found, nor has a wolf habitat been located. Whatever it is, it’s not a wolf, despite its likeness to one.”

  “No wolf habitats anywhere in these parts? Isn’t that odd?”

  “Very,” Cory confirmed. “But we haven’t seen wolves around here, and the stories surrounding these creatures always happen under very unusual circumstances.”

  “Then what is it?” Gabby demanded, uncomprehendingly. “What could it be?”

  Cory pursed his lips, his coal-like eyes darkening. “Some believe that they are werewolves.”

  Gabriella’s mouth fell open, realizing that he was jesting her after all, but before she could grow angry, she remembered the beast in her living room.

  It looked at me. It understood me. It was in there to protect me.

  A wave of dizziness overcame her as she envisioned the bullet falling from the wolf’s chest as it healed before her eyes.

  No, it can’t be. Werewolves aren’t real. And yet…

  “It’s, of course, speculation,” Cory continued, offering her a weak smile. “No one has ever lived to confirm such a tale. Whatever the creature is kills everything in sight, as if eliminating all witnesses. Well, they always have until now, that is.” He stared pointedly at her, and Gabriella felt her heart began to hammer. “But as I said, we can discuss this after we eat.”

  He turned and slid from the smooth, black seat, rushing over to open her door. Gabby stared at him, dazed.

  Honestly, I don’t have time to even entertain this right now. I have a very real, very pressing matter to deal with. Werewolves be damned.