by Lori Drake
“You said something about her having money?”
“Her grandmother passed a few months ago and left her some. She used some of it to buy this place. I’m honestly not sure what she did with the rest. There was talk of investments. A trust. Charitable giving. I never wanted anything to do with it. All I wanted was her.” He sniffed, tearing up again, and Joey put a hand on his arm. Isaac leaned into her and broke down into choking sobs, clearly trying to hold back in a manly fashion but failing miserably.
Joey wrapped him in a hug and held on, rubbing his back. Tears stung her own eyes, because all she could think about was how broken she’d be in his place.
10
Chris leaned against the desk with arms crossed, watching as Joey scribbled on the whiteboard wall in Sam’s downtown PI office. Their brother had left them the keys and asked them to check on it while he was gone. This probably wasn’t what he had in mind, but Chris couldn’t deny it was a good central meeting spot with a giant whiteboard hung specifically for this type of activity. Decent coffee, too. Chris nursed a cup while Joey put everything they knew up on the board. Considering how much coffee he’d had at the diner, he had no right to feel so tired this early in the afternoon. Maybe it was a sugar crash. Or the fact that he hadn’t gotten even close to a full night’s sleep the night before.
“What was the bitchy co-worker’s name again?” Joey asked.
“Angela,” he said. “But I don’t think she’s worth writing down. She had no motive—she was already on the day shift.”
Joey wrote her name down anyway. “Everyone’s worth writing down. And if she knew about the money…”
“How would she get her hands on it, if she did?”
“ATM card? I dunno. I’m just saying we don’t want to cross her off prematurely. We have to consider all the angles.”
“Okay. But if she’s up there, the boyfriend should be too.”
She added Isaac’s name to the suspects list but shook her head. “I don’t think he did it.”
“He’s the only one with a solid motive. He’s probably her next of kin.”
“You didn’t see him. He was wrecked. You can’t fake that kind of emotion without being an actor.”
“Or a psychopath. Naomi’s boss said there was always something off about him… that he smiled too much. Like he was missing out on social cues.”
Joey snorted. “If that’s a crime, I know a few people I’d like to jail. Anyway, he sure wasn’t smiling today when I visited him.”
“I guess that’s a point in his favor. But seriously, nothing seemed off about him at all?”
She stepped back from the board and put the cap back on the marker. Thank goodness. All Chris could smell was the overpowering scent of dry-erase marker, despite his best effort to tune it out. She folded an arm across her chest and tapped the marker against her chin.
“Maybe.” Her eyes lingered thoughtfully on the board across the room. “My wolf was interested in him.”
“Er, excuse me?” He lifted his brows.
Smirking, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Not that way. I touched him at one point, a comforting gesture, and my wolf was suddenly… curious, I guess.”
Chris tilted his head. “Is he a wolf?”
“No. No, I would’ve smelled that on him. He smelled briny, like sea water.”
“Hmm. Maybe he went for a swim that morning?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But it struck me as a little odd, that in his grief he might take a jaunt down to the beach.” She edged back farther until she bumped up against the desk beside him.
“You said he’s a swim coach? Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. You work out when you’re angry.”
She shrugged. “You’re the one that wanted him on the suspects list.”
“Fair enough. So, we have a timeline and—” He tried but failed to suppress a yawn. “—a couple of suspects for Naomi.”
“Are you okay? You look beat.”
“I had a rough night.” Just thinking about it caused anger to tighten his chest once more. He reined it in and turned back to the topic at hand. “Rachel is going to be trickier, since we don’t really know anything about her.”
Joey eyed him but wisely let the subject drop. “We can talk to Aunt Cathy, find out what she knows.”
“Good idea.”
“I think our next stop needs to be the spot Naomi’s phone last pinged.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something.”
“If we go at night, we can literally sniff around. I bet Ben still has that collar and leash.”
“Didn’t know either of you were into that sort of thing.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn’t resist the tease.
“What can I say? I like to surprise you,” she shot back, nudging him with an elbow. “But speaking of surprises…” She turned toward him, leaning her hip against the desk and putting a hand on his stomach. “I want to talk about the studio.”
He groaned inwardly, keeping his eyes forward. “Did you retract the bid?”
“No…”
Of course she hadn’t. That would mean admitting she was wrong to go behind his back and force his hand. “Then there’s nothing to talk about. Why don’t you drive us over to the ping site? I can call Cathy on the way.”
“Would you just listen to me for a minute? Please.”
A few tense seconds ticked by. He didn’t particularly want to hear her try to rationalize her decision, didn’t want to get into another fight when they had such an important task ahead of them. But his wolf, luxuriating under the touch of his mate, lulled him into it. “I’m listening.”
“I know you think the timing is bad. That you’re not ready. I get that. But Chris, I’m ready. I need this. Something tangible, something real, something… stable. And if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I’ll do it on my own until you are.”
Her fingers stirred against his stomach, and he had to fight the urge to throw them off. “Then you should have told me that before you put in the bid. We should’ve talked about it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
The words were so unexpected, he wasn’t sure he heard her right. But when he glanced down at her, they were written all over her face. “Joey…” He turned toward her and took her face between his hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “What am I going to do with you?”
Her phone began buzzing in her pocket, but she ignored it. “Forgive me?”
“I...” He glanced down at the still-buzzing pocket. “You should probably get that.”
“Chris, please.”
“What if I don’t want you to do it without me?” The question resonated deep in his core. The idea of her going forward with the studio on her own bothered him just as much as her pushing him into it, but in a different way.
Her phone stopped buzzing, but within seconds, his rang.
Chris sighed and dropped a hand to his pocket, fetching the device. When he saw the name on the screen, his brows shot up. “It’s Harding.”
Blinking, Joey scrambled to grab her phone too and check it. She held it up, and sure enough, her missed call was from the detective too.
Chris swiftly answered the call, and Harding said, “Merry Christmas.”
“Er, what now?” The holidays were months away.
“I’m on the case. Don’t say I didn’t get you anything.”
Judging from Joey’s wide eyes, she could hear the conversation just fine.
“I see,” Chris said. “Well, thank you. I think.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I need you to meet me at the ME’s office. There’s something I need you to see.”
“The what, now?”
Harding sighed. “Medical Examiner. Can you be there in thirty?”
“Uh, hang on…”
Joey’s thumbs moved furiously as she looked up the address, then gave him a nod.
“Yeah, we can do that. Dare I ask what you need me to
see?”
“Just be there in thirty.” Harding disconnected the call.
Stowing his phone, Chris did his best to ignore the dread gnawing at his insides.
“What do you suppose he wants to show us?” Joey asked.
“Well, there’s really only one reason a cop summons you to the morgue…”
She grimaced. “I’ll drive, you activate the phone tree.”
Joey was on pins and needles all the way to the ME’s office. It wasn’t her first trip to one, but it was a trip she’d hoped to not have to repeat anytime soon. By the time they got there, Chris had confirmed the whereabouts of most of the pack. Only Itsuo and Ben remained out of pocket. It wasn’t unusual for Itsuo to be unreachable, but Ben… he should’ve answered. He was supposed to be with Cathy. She hadn’t picked up either.
Chris caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t offer any words of comfort. What could he say, really? He had to be as worried as she was, and neither of them wanted to offer the other false hope. Their only consolation was that Justin had confirmed Ben had been with Cathy when he’d left for work that morning.
Was it wrong of her to hope that the other missing witch, Rachel, was under the ME’s white sheet and not her brother? The last time a stranger in scrubs had pulled a sheet back for her, Chris had been under it. She shivered at the memory, and Chris squeezed her hand again before releasing it to hold the door open.
Detective Harding met them in the lobby, took one look at their anxious faces, and screwed up his face in a frown. “What’s wrong? You two look like cats in a room full of rocking chairs.”
Joey relaxed a little. It couldn’t be as bad as they’d feared, if Harding was so chill. “You called us to the ME’s office. Does that mean there’s another body?”
“No, not at all. Just… well, it’s best you see for yourself rather than me trying to explain. Come on.”
He motioned for them to follow him and headed for the front desk to sign them in. Joey and Chris exchanged a confused glance before following him. Once they had visitor badges clipped to their shirts, Harding led them deeper into the building.
Goosebumps pimpled Joey’s arms as she followed him. The air was chilly and smelled of industrial antiseptic cleaner. The smell only got stronger when they passed through a swinging door and into an autopsy room. It looked pretty much exactly like they did on television. A dark-haired woman wearing a white lab coat over a purple flower-patterned dress stood from a desk in the attached office and came out to meet them.
“Everything in order?” the detective asked.
The woman eyed Joey and Chris curiously before replying. “Yes, sir. There’s a box of gloves on the table over there. Be sure you suit up before touching anything.”
Harding grunted a response and resumed walking, crossing the room to the wall of refrigerated human-sized storage units while the woman shut the door and returned to her desk. He grabbed a pair of gloves on the way past the table and put them on before opening the door marked “17 - SHAW.”
So, it was something to do with Naomi. Joey grabbed two pairs of gloves and passed one to Chris before putting hers on. She wandered over to stand by the sheet-draped body on the long stainless steel tray that Harding had pulled out. Chris came to a stop beside her, but he didn’t put his gloves on. Truth be told, he looked a little haggard.
“You can wait in the hall if you want,” she said softly. “No one would fault you. You were closer to Naomi than I was.”
He shook his head in silence, jaw set stubbornly, eyes fixed on the obscured form of their friend.
Joey turned her attention to Harding and gave him a slight nod. “Go ahead.”
Harding peeled back the sheet, and Joey’s breath caught in her throat.
Naomi’s form lay twisted on the cold metal slab, half turned toward them, arms curled in to her chest. Her features were a mask of agony, lips still peeled back from her teeth in a grimace—or maybe a snarl—as if even death offered no respite. Her wrists were bent downward at unnatural angles, fingers elongated and tipped with nails shaped practically into claws. She also smelled awful, and her flesh was bloated from time spent in the water.
Chris recoiled, and Joey reached for him automatically, catching his arm and turning him away from the grotesque sight.
“Hey. Look at me,” she said, waiting until he met her eyes. “Whatever happened to her… it’s over now. She’s not suffering, not in pain. This is just a shell.”
He nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing as he closed his eyes and swallowed. A faint shudder passed through him, but he turned slowly back to the tray.
Joey looked past it to where Harding stood with his arms crossed, observing them with the clinical professionalism of a career investigator.
“I thought you said she wasn’t one of you,” he said after a pause.
“She’s not,” Joey said, shaking her head. “I mean, she wasn’t. What makes you think she was?”
He motioned at the body. “Look at her. She looks… well, not entirely human. In all my years on the force, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“We’re going to have to have a talk about shapeshifting, detective,” Joey said. “It’s nothing like you see in the movies.” The detective’s knowledge and understanding of lycanthropes was sorely lacking, but that was probably their fault. After all, they’d told him everything he knew—which was the bare minimum.
Beside her, Chris bent over slightly to peer at the body, then walked around to view what was visible from the other side. “Her spine is misshapen too. What happened to her?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Harding said. “How did a normal, healthy woman turn into… this?”
“Magic,” Joey said. “Really dark magic.” Doing her best to avoid looking at Naomi’s face, she studied the strange, inexplicable changes to her friend’s body. She walked around to the other side of the drawer to observe Naomi’s twisted spine and touched a small bruise on the back of her shoulder with the tip of one gloved finger.
“Tranq dart,” Harding said. “Probably. Close range. There was no trace of chemicals in her blood, so it was a while before she died.”
“That must have been how she was taken, initially,” Joey said. “But what the hell happened to her after that?”
Chris reached out and pulled the sheet back up, careful to touch nothing but the sheet itself. Only when Naomi’s body was covered again did he lay a bare hand on the sheet over her shoulder. “Some sort of body modification experiment?”
“Body modification?” Joey huffed. “That’s a navel ring or a set of ear gauges. This is… something else.”
“Whatever it is,” Harding said, “it’s bad news for Ms. Ward, if the disappearances are truly connected.”
Joey nodded, removing her gloves with a snap and scanning the room for a waste basket. “Are you finally ready to accept our help?”
“Well I don’t have the authority to deputize you or anything, but there’s clearly something supernatural going on, and if so, I’m punching above my weight class.”
“Then we should probably compare notes, and figure out what the next step is,” Joey said.
Nodding, Harding removed his own gloves and pushed the drawer closed again. “Dark times,” he mused aloud. “Say, I don’t suppose you two know anything about those animal attacks.”
Joey rolled her eyes. “Why, because we’re wolves?”
“Yeah, and because witnesses claim they were wolf attacks.”
Joey’s eyes snapped to Chris, meeting his equally troubled ones.
“It’s not any of our people,” Chris said. “If that’s what you’re implying.”
They hadn’t been able to get ahold of Ben or Itsuo, of course, but Joey felt no need to bring that up. There was no way either of them had been roaming around downtown Seattle in wolf form, attacking people.
“Our people aren’t the only wolves in Seattle,” she pointed out instead. “It might be time we checked in on our loners.
”
Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “It might not even be wolves. It could be a domestic cross-breed, or hell, even a husky might be confused for a wolf in the dark.”
The detective made a “time out” motion with his hands. “Let’s not get too far off topic.”
“Do you have any leads? Suspects?” Joey asked, mental gears grinding as she shifted abruptly back to their more pressing investigation. At this rate, she was going to blow out her clutch. So to speak.
“Not much. The previous detective interviewed Ms. Shaw’s boss and boyfriend, but didn’t know about the connection between the two missing women. I was able to pull Ms. Ward’s case from missing persons once I was assigned…”
“How did you manage that, anyway?” Chris asked. “Being assigned to the case.”
Harding shrugged. “Told the lieutenant that a CI—confidential informant—had told me the two women knew each other and their disappearances might be related. Then suggested that maybe the detective on the case was a little too green to handle the second potential serial killer in Seattle in six months.”
“I thought you didn’t want any part of it?” Joey said.
“I didn’t, but after I saw this…” He motioned at the closed drawer, lips pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t your garden variety homicide. Whoever did this needs to be stopped, and fast. Now, I’m taking a risk bringing you two in, so don’t make me regret it.”
“Got it.” Joey moved close to Chris and put a hand on his back, rubbing lightly.
Leaning into the contact, Chris nodded his understanding as well. “You were saying, about Rachel’s case?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. She went missing three days before Ms. Shaw, but unlike Ms. Shaw there were signs of a struggle at her residence.” He slid a hand into his inner jacket pocket and produced a small notebook, which he opened and flipped through. “Downstairs neighbors heard the ruckus around nine p.m. No one else heard or saw anything.”
Chris stroked his chin. “Three days between the disappearances, and Naomi was missing three days before her body turned up…”