by Mary Abshire
Paul approached me. My stomach protested.
"Maybe you should go with him," I said to the priest.
"I'd like you to come, too. I'm not sure what to look for." His gentle blue eyes were difficult to resist, even though I had the urge to spew my guts everywhere.
Chewing on my lip, I considered whether I should go. Drake made me promise to stay home. Yet, I’d broken my word to meet Paul. I didn't think he'd mind too much. Besides, I felt safe with Paul and with the cops around. So what harm could come from going to a police station with a plethora of cops?
I cleared the moisture from my forehead with the back of my hand. "All right. I'll go, but I'll have to follow you. I need some fresh air."
Conner stepped toward us. "The coroner is on the way in and a team has arrived to gather fingerprints. Shall we head to the station and check out the photos?"
"Jessie and I will follow you," Paul told him.
"Great, let's go," Conner said.
After a deep breath, I followed the two men out the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Driving slowly, I turned into the police station parking lot. Paul's archaic Ford pickup truck chugged in front of me. I was surprised the rust bucket even moved. If I had to guess, his only income came from the church, which was why he drove such an outdated automobile. Maybe he should pray for a new one.
I parked a few spaces from his truck, then waited for him on the driveway. His car door shrieked when he shut it. Walking toward me, he bundled his coat together.
"Where are your hat and gloves?" I asked.
"I was in bed when I got the call, so I rushed out and forgot them in the closet." Steam from his breath dissipated within seconds.
"Your cop friend probably thinks I'm crazy talking about souls," I said as we headed for the entrance to the station.
"Conner? Nah. He has an open mind, but since he's a cop, he still sees things in black and white. He won't say a word to anyone or think any less of you. If anything, he now thinks a crazy person is on a killing spree and he will want to talk to a psychologist or criminal profiler."
Which would lead him nowhere, I thought as I opened one of the double glass doors. Paul opened the other one and we strolled inside together. Past a small entryway, we opened another set of glass doors. Instantly, a massive wave of heat engulfed us. Paul shook the edges of his coat, jarring loose the small flakes of snow that hadn't melted yet. I followed him to the tall counter.
As Paul spoke to the woman in uniform, the hairs on my arm twitched. Sensing another supernatural presence nearby, I took a quick glance around. The waiting area was quiet. A couple sat together, holding hands. Three other women and two men filled in other chairs. Most of them stared at the television in the upper corner. They all appeared human, which meant the non-human was somewhere else in the building.
"He's ready for us," Paul said.
Shifting my attention, I found him heading toward a door Conner held open. I quickly caught up with him.
"The last door on the left is an empty conference room we can use," Conner said, pointing. "I'll grab the folder and meet you in there. Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Cola?"
Paul stopped a few feet down the hall. "I'll have a cola, please."
"One cola." Conner looked at me.
"I'm fine. Thanks."
"Be back in a few," Conner said, leaving us to find the conference room.
I followed him down the long, wide hall. Energy swirled around me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck and warning me yet again that a supernatural creature lurked within the building. The person couldn't be a demon or vampire, since my body temp didn't change. And the person couldn't be a witch or warlock—I could detect their energy by touch only.
Halfway down the hall, I discovered the answer when two large policemen turned the corner. Everything transformed into slow motion. My eyes bulged, my breathing stopped, and the only sounds I heard were the taps of shoes from the men approaching. I stayed on the right side of the hall, walking a few steps behind Paul. Drawing near me, the werewolf with dark hair I'd seen with Gabe at the bar chatted with an equally large man—another werewolf, I surmised.
Gabe's friend met my gaze. In a split second, I knew I was up shit creek. Yet, we passed each other without so much as a word or anything. When I reached the entrance to the conference room, I twisted around. Sure enough, he had stopped and was watching me. Fuck!
"Jessie?" Paul asked.
All noises—the buzz of electricity, chatter of voices, rings of phones, and the normal sounds of activity returned at the same time. Worse, the queasiness in my stomach returned like a tsunami.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a look of concern on his face.
I struggled to find the right words to say. Seeing Gabe's friend in a police uniform stunned me. What was I going to do now? I thought I'd be safe at the station. In reality, I'd brought more danger upon myself. Fuck times ten.
"Werewolves work here?" I asked softly, holding my thumb up and pointing it behind me.
"Yes," he replied. "Why?"
"I have the photographs." Conner stepped past me and slapped a manila folder on the rectangular table. "And one cola." He handed the drink to Paul, then sat in the chair at the end of the table.
Since I was unable to finish my conversation with Paul, I walked around the police officer, then took a seat.
Paul's gaze remained on me while he wheeled out the chair across from me. A knock on the open door stole my attention. Once again, it seemed as if life drained out of me.
"Hey, Conner. Need any help?" Gabe's friend asked.
Conner opened the folder instead of looking at his fellow officer. "No thanks, Ben. I'm good."
A spark of excitement flashed within me. Now I knew his name.
Ben glanced at me with hardened eyes and a tense face. Guess he wasn't pleased with Conner's answer. Lips pressed tightly, he backed out of the doorway and disappeared.
Paul snapped the lid on his can of pop. "Friend of yours?" He lifted the can to his mouth.
I shook my head. "Bumped into him at a bar. He must have recognized me."
"Ben's a good guy. A little rough around the edges, but a good man." Conner took the first photograph from the folder, then passed it to me.
Holding the picture up, I immediately noticed details similar to the crime scene at the grocery store. The open mouth on the dead female reminded me of Hank. The eyes were also wide and glassy.
I handed the photo to Paul and he gave me the one in his hand. Again, the dead man in the photograph had an open mouth and big eyes.
"Are you seeing the same things I am?" I asked, lowering the photo.
"Mouth open and eyes staring up," Paul said.
I nodded and gave a half grin, glad we were on the same page.
Conner handed me a new photograph, then another. Each one of the victims had an O-shaped mouth. Some bodies had the same posture with their arms to the side, but it could've been from rigor mortis setting in. Others were on their stomach. Interestingly, their arms were at their sides too. I spread the photographs out on the table and rose to look at them side by side.
"Okay, I see your point. They all have their mouths open," Conner said, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "Maybe they were screaming."
My eyes jumped to Paul. His lips twitched. Yeah, he didn't believe Conner's theory either.
"None of them has contorted body parts. It's as if they didn't fight back," I said.
"The bodies could've been placed that way," Conner said.
Yeah, maybe. Still, it seemed odd to me.
I crossed my arms. "I'm no specialist, nor am I an expert on criminal behavior. But in all these photographs, I see a few common details, which makes me believe the same person murdered these people." I wanted to add that same person stole their souls, but I doubted he would've believed.
"A few other detectives agree with you," Conner said. "We are trying to keep quiet about it to avoid a panic." He gathere
d the photographs, then returned them to the folder.
"It might be good to at least warn people to be wary if they are alone," I said. And in an instant, another thought popped into my mind. I unfolded my arms. "Hang on. Were all of these bodies found alone?"
Conner nodded. "Yes, and we have issued advisories telling people to be on guard if they are out at night by themselves."
I didn't know how I overlooked that detail. So much for a career in law enforcement. Well, at least we knew the demon waited for his victims to be alone before he attacked.
"Have you run a check with other cities outside Alaska to see if they have had similar murders?"
Paul slurped on his cola. The can clanked when he set it on the table. "Good question. Have you heard of any similar murders?"
Conner shook his head and leaned back in his chair, gripping the armrests. "Honestly, we haven't seen anything like this in Eagle River in over thirty years. We just started sending out messages to other agencies."
I shifted my gaze to Paul. He had more answers when he came to see me than the investigation team had. And where did Paul get his information from? An angel. My confidence in the police had dwindled fast, especially after seeing Gabe's friend, Ben, in a uniform.
"I don't think we can offer any better information at the moment," Paul said, rising slowly from his chair.
"Thanks for coming in. I will talk to the coroner and see if I can get more information about the bodies. If you think of anything else, please, give me a call." Conner reached into his chest pocket and withdrew a small card. He handed it to me.
"Thanks." I slid the business card into my front pocket.
"I'll show you out," Conner said.
With a deep breath and an overanxious belly, I trailed behind the two men. I hoped Ben was nowhere in sight so I could make it home safely. After I reached the exit and saw it free of other officers, I felt halfway confident I would survive the drive home.
Paul and I walked out of the station together. The cool air relieved a touch of my nausea. Tiny salt pellets crunched under our feet as we walked across the driveway.
"Do you believe a demon stole the souls of those victims?" Paul asked as he bunched his coat across his chest.
"Yeah, I do. It's not a coincidence their mouths are all open. What I don't understand is why nobody fought back. At least, it doesn't look that way in the pictures."
"Do you think more than one person is involved with the murders? Could the murders be part of some kind of ritual?"
We stopped in the space between our vehicles.
"I don't know. I'm not any kind of expert at solving crimes. And I've never heard of any demon rituals, but then again, I didn't grow up with demons. I had a pretty regular life."
Paul glanced back at the building. "What about that werewolf, Ben?"
"He might be a problem for me." I scanned the lot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. All the vehicles sat idle.
"Anything I can help with?"
I shrugged. "Hopefully not, but watch your back. I saw him with a werewolf named Gabe when I visited a bar the other night with some friends. Gabe was expelled from a pack in Arizona by Alan Vandett."
"The Alan Vandett of Vandett Trucking?"
"Yeah, that one. Needless to say, Gabe is not happy about it."
"Am I to think you were involved with his expulsion?"
"He betrayed Alan and kidnapped me." I really didn't want to go into further details when Ben could come out at any minute.
Paul shivered. "Well, Ben could be a problem since he knows Gabe. I don't know what pack Ben is with, but I can find out. Maybe I can talk with the Alpha."
"Don't worry about it right now. I made a call to Alan and he's going to send a few guards here for me. But you might be extra careful since Ben has seen you with me."
He nodded. "If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call me." Steam from his breath clouded in front of his face. His lips were turning bluer by the second.
I backpedaled toward my vehicle. "And if you hear of anything else, call me."
He waved a hand and headed for his car.
As I dug inside my pockets, withdrawing my keys and phone, I heard the faint sound of an engine starting. I stopped at the car door, gripping the handle, and peered through the windows. Paul had just got in his truck. The door squealed as he opened it. Keys in hand, I scanned the lot. None of the vehicles showed exhaust fumes drifting in the cold air. Maybe I was a bit paranoid.
After I hopped inside the SUV, I started the engine. According to the time on the dash, I estimated I had just enough time to make it home. Drake would be calling soon and I certainly didn't want to talk to him in the car. With his vampire ears, he'd know in a heartbeat that I'd broken my promise. Hands tight on the wheel, I backed out, then drove away from the station.
The roads were void of traffic and many of the stoplights flashed red. While I wanted to get home fast, I didn't want to draw any attention. I drove at the suggested speed limit and actually stopped at each intersection. If Dani were in the car with me, she would've yelled at me to run through it. The thought of Dani coming brought a smile to my face. I missed my sister-like friend.
After I'd driven several miles down the long road, flashing lights from behind captured my attention. Staring in the rearview mirror, I watched a police cruiser rushing toward me. Heart beating fast, I pulled the vehicle to the side. The police car stopped behind me.
Fuck! Fuck-fuck-fuck! Why did I have a strong feeling Ben had just caught up with me?
Chapter Fifteen
I stared into the rearview mirror while my heart pounded. The leather on the steering wheel made a soft rubbing sound from my tight grip. I'd almost made it home. Almost. But no, fate, or someone, decided to make my life a living Hell.
The door to the police cruiser opened. A large policeman stepped out wearing a round cap and a big puffy coat over his large frame. Humans typically weren't as big. I presumed Gabe's damn werewolf friend had followed me. Shit! I had to figure out a plan to get away from him.
I watched as he approached, holding his hand near his hip. I held little doubt he'd fire his weapon at me if I took off. I didn't want to risk it. As he drew near to my door, I lowered the window. In an instant, my skin itched from my hairs springing to life.
Ben's eyes met mine. Instantly, I knew I was in deep trouble, though I'd technically done nothing wrong.
"Is there a problem, officer?" I asked in a polite tone.
"You need to turn off the engine. Then step out of the car," he said, his voice firm and eyes cold as steel.
I hesitated to move as thoughts swirled in my head, debating what to do. Police cruisers had cameras on the dashboard. Could he have left his camera on? If he did, it could work to my benefit. If not, I was on my own. And if I were a gambler, I'd bet on him turning the device off.
"Turn the vehicle off." His voice was deeper. He tugged open the door.
I cut the engine and yanked the keys from the ignition.
"Now, step out." He held the door wide open.
"You haven't told me what law I've broken," I said, twisting in the seat. I refused to leave the tiny bit of safety I had in the car.
Ben swiveled his head in each direction. Given the early morning hour, no other vehicles were in sight. In one quick move, he gripped my wrist, then tugged me from the car.
"Hey! That's police brutality." The complaint was wimpy, but I had to say it.
"Shut the fuck up." And with that, I confirmed he had the camera in his car shut off.
"You're making a mistake," I said.
He slammed the door, then tugged me to the rear of the SUV.
"You're the one that made the mistake by coming here."
I braced my feet on the snowy ground, trying to slow his progress. "I don't know what Gabe has told you, but I have done nothing wrong. He kidnapped me. He got involved with a madman and betrayed the Alpha of Vandett Trucking."
He stopped pulling on my arm. "What
did you just say?"
I breathed fast. Something I'd said clicked with him. But what part?
"He kidnapped me—"
"About the Alpha for Vandett Trucking," he said, tightening his grip on my forearm.
"Gabe was Alan Vandett's guard. He betrayed Alan to support a man who was raping and killing women."
"Do you have proof?"
I stared at him in shock. Proof? Here? Now?
Lights turned from the corner and pointed at us. Ben and I watched as a large truck sped up, then skidded to a stop in the middle of the road next to us. Two large men leaped from the vehicle. A third man, whom I couldn't see too well, remained in the driver's seat. Strong energy electrified the air. The hairs on my arms twitched so fervently I thought bugs were crawling on me.
"Is there a problem here?" the large man with a gray beard asked. He wore a baseball cap backwards, a plaid shirt, and jeans. His hair was a mixture of black and gray, and appeared tied behind his head.
Ben lifted his palm to the two men. "Back up and get in your vehicle. I'm taking this woman to the station with me."
"No, you're not taking her anywhere," said the other man standing near Mr. Plaid. He looked younger, with trimmed dark hair, and a gut half as large as Mr. Plaid's.
Ben's grip tightened on my arm, cutting off the circulation. "If you don't get back in your vehicle—"
Mr. Plaid stepped closer to Ben, placing his feet inches away from the officer. He looked at Ben with a chilling gaze. "By order of Alan Vandett, the Alpha of Vandett Trucking, we are taking her with us."
Relief trickled through me. Oh, thank you, Alan. Thank you.
"You can let her go peacefully, or the three of us will take her by force," Mr. Plaid said.
Ben's grip loosened. I jerked my arm free, then took a step away from him.
"This isn't over," Ben said.
I didn't think Gabe's game would be done until one of us was dead, preferably him.
The younger werewolf held his hand out, palm up, to me. "Give me your keys and I'll drive your car."
As soon as I placed them in his hand, he darted away.