Who Let the Wolves Out

by Renee George

  "She's still babysitting," I said. "I'll grill her tonight at home." Besides, if Jo Jo was through with her, there was no sense in forcing him to be around her.

  His shoulders relaxed. "Okay, then, where to next?"

  "We've got one hour before I have to be at the sheriff's. We know the Dwyers are not at the store, so we should check if Jack Trevors is working today." I clicked my teeth with my tongue. "If not, maybe you can sweet talk old Betty Freedman into giving you his home address."

  Betty was ninety years old, but still sassy. She worked the cash register at the grocery store and loved to flirt with the young men who came in to shop.

  "I don't think I'm her type," Jo Jo said.

  "Don't sell yourself short," I teased like I would a younger brother. "Every guy under the age of sixty is her type."

  Jo Jo ignored me. "I think Trevors rents an apartment down by the lakefront. Or used to, anyhow."

  "If Jack isn't there, we should track down Eric. He has been working for his dad at the store lately, ever since his Uncle Elbert got the blood clot in his leg."

  Mom had told Dad that Doc Smith ordered Elbert to take it easy. If the old opossum didn't take care of himself until the clot resolved, he'd have a stroke. "Okay, then, grocery store then general store."

  My phone rang. Cal's name came up on the screen. I swiped a little too eagerly to accept the call. "Hey, Cal. You're on speaker with Jo Jo and me."

  "Hey," he said back. "Checking in."

  "Did you find out anything at Doc's?"

  "Ketamine," Cal said, his voice sounded strained. "What we had in our system would have taken down an elephant. It could have killed you, Dakota. When we find this guy, I'm going to give him a big dose of my foot right up his ass."

  "Wow." My heart fluttered into my throat. "Isn't that one of those date rape drugs?"

  "Yes," he snarled.

  "Where in the world would someone even get ketamine?"

  "Veterinarians can order it," Cal said.

  "I can't see Matt Connors, who is our only vet in town, ordering a bunch of ketamine in for recreational use." I shook my head. "He's a middle-aged father of two young boys. He wouldn't sell illicit drugs on the side."

  "You'd be amazed at the type of people who would sell drugs," Cal said. "The same with those who kill. If the situation is right, people can be motivated to do all kinds of terrible acts."

  I nodded. "You're right." Our previous town judge, someone who had been a part of the community his whole life, had turned out to be a serial killer. And, until he was caught, he had appeared the epitome of upstanding.

  "Ludlow Davis is Matt's cousin. He works for him at the clinic sometimes," Jo Jo said. "He was out at my house last night with the rest of Luke's mob."

  "Ludlow? He's not very bright. How is he going to figure out how to get ketamine past Matt?"

  "He's an idiot," Jo Jo agreed.

  "Well, it's only a possibility," I said. "Did you manage to get a look at the autopsy report?"

  "Unfortunately, Billy Bob hasn't finished, yet. He told Etta it would be a two-day work up."

  "She didn't tell him we were working our own investigation, did she?"

  "No," Cal said. "She was discreet. I think Billy Bob was happy to have her interested in his work."

  Cripes. I hoped our poking around didn't drive Doc and Etta farther apart.

  "Does he have any guesses as to how Luke died?" Besides an obvious mauling.

  "There is no clear cause of death at this point. What about you guys?"

  "Luke's mom is already planning his funeral," I said, slightly aghast. "And Jackson said that Luke had been acting different and bringing integrators into town for parties. When I asked him about the drugs, he acted cagey. I think he knows something, but not about the women."

  "You certain," Cal asked.

  "As certain as I can be without actually knowing."

  Jo Jo turned down North Street toward Dwyer's Market. "I believe him," he said. "For what it's worth."

  "We're pulling into the market to see if Jack Trevors is working today. Talk soon," I said.

  "Dakota," Cal said. "Stay safe."

  His concern for me made me smile. "I will. You stay safe, too."

  Jo Jo put the truck in park and pressed his hand against his chest. "Hey! What about me?"

  "Goodbye." Cal hung up.

  I smirked. "I'll protect you, tiger. Don't you worry."

  Jo Jo laughed. He leaned forward in his seat, suddenly, and looked across the parking lot. He gestured at a woman with dark hair and sunglasses ducking into the store. "Is that Ronnie?"

  I squinted at the back of the woman as she entered but it was hard to tell at this distance and angle. "Let's go find out."

  We had performed a fast search of the aisles for any signs of Jack or Veronica, and unfortunately, had found nothing. The store only had a few customers roaming around, so they wouldn't have gotten lost in the shuffle. Time to put Plan B for Betty Freedman to work. Betty, the ninety-year-old buxom blonde bob cat shifter who should have been a cougar, was working the cash register at the checkout line. We waited for the one customer in her line to finish and leave before we approached her.

  "Hi, Betty."

  She looked at me with my empty hands and no cart, and said, "Can I help you?"

  I grabbed a pack of gum and put it up on the conveyor belt. "Uhm, yes. Do you happen to know if Jack Trevors is working today?" I asked as I watched her drag the gum over the scanner."

  "I don't think so," she said addressing me but craning her neck to look around me in order to give Jo Jo the once over. See, I'd told him that every guy was her type. "At least, I haven't seen him." She held up the gum. "Do you want this in a bag?"

  "No." I took the gum and put it in my pocket.

  "That'll be three dollars and twenty-nine cents," she said.

  Jayzus, I must have picked the gum laced with gold flecks. I gave her a five. "Did you see Ronnie Talbert come in a few minutes ago?"

  "I did," she said, handing me back my change.

  "Where did she go?"

  "How in the world do I know?" She transferred her gaze away from Jo Jo to me and gave me a sour look. "She hasn't checked out, if that helps."

  "Thanks, Betty." I shook my head at Jo Jo. "Trevors is not here, but Ronnie still might be. Let's take a look around. You start walking the front going left to right, and I'll walk the back going right to left."

  "On it," Jo Jo said, and we split up.

  I stopped at each aisle and glanced down for a second before moving on. As I neared the center of the back, I passed the "employees only" double doors near the public restrooms. What if Veronica had gone into the bathrooms?

  I opened the women's door. The teal-green bathroom smelled of lemon detergent. There were a few crumpled paper towels at the base of the trash can, dry, so they had been there a while. "Ronnie? Are you in here?" I asked as I passed each stall. Only one was locked.

  A sniffle alerted me to an occupant.

  "Veronica? Are you okay?"

  "Go away," she said.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Are you deaf?" she uttered with despair. "Leave me alone."

  I went inside the open stall next to her locked one and climbed up on the toilet and looked over the top. She sat on the toilet with her pants up not down, holding a box of tissue. "Why don't you come on out, so we can talk?"

  "Christ, Dakota!" Mind your own flippin' business!" Veronica shot up from the toilet, and I saw she had a bruise on her right cheek and a cut on her lip, right before she smacked me in the face with her palm.

  I cried out as I slipped off the stool seat, my right foot falling inside the bowl soaking my boot in toilet water. I heard her stall door slam open and the sound of her feet running out of the restroom.

  "Son of a beef eater!" I yanked, but the toe of my boot was stuck in the hole. I used both hands to pull on my leg. After three hard yanks, using my free foot for leverage, my boot came loose, and I tumbled out t
he stall door onto the restroom tiles, taking at hard fall onto my butt

  My ankle felt a little tender when I put pressure down on it, but I took off after Veronica as fast as I could hobble. The employee doors were still swinging when I came out of the bathroom, so I went inside after her.

  Wooden pallets stacked with cardboard boxes and shrink wrapped littered the warehouse area. So, this is where they took in new goods. Some of the skids were unwrapped with missing boxes, presumably used to stock empty shelves in the store.

  I held myself perfectly still, to listen for any movement. Come on, Veronica, come out, come out, wherever you are.

  When she didn't make a peep, I texted Jo Jo. Come back to the stock room. Veronica is here.

  Something metal clatter toward the back and I heard quick footfalls. "Gotcha," I said and limped in that direction. Veronica might not be guilty of killing Luke, but she was guilty of something.

  Thanks to my twisted ankle, Jo Jo caught up to me. "Where?" he asked.

  I pointed toward the east side. Bay doors opened, and daylight poured inside. "She's getting away!"

  "You stay put," Jo Jo said. "I'll get her."

  He took off running. A roaring sound cut through the stockroom, echoing off the walls. It almost sounded like a growl. I'd heard it before, but where?

  I hopped on one foot most of the way in time to see Veronica take off on a four-wheeler as Jo Jo shouted for her to stop.

  "Oh," I said. "Oh." That's what I'd heard the night before when Cal and I'd been shot full of ketamine. That was the growly sound. It had been four-wheelers, more than one.

  Jayzus, we weren't just looking at one murderer. There had to be at least two people who knew what had happened to Luke.

  "You need to get ice on that ankle," Jo Jo said. He'd helped me out to the truck. "I'd take off your boot and have a look, but I know where it's been." He wrinkled his nose at me.

  "The toilet was clean."

  "There's no such thing as a clean toilet, I don't care how much sanitizer gets used."

  "Fine," I told him. I called Cal. He answered on the first ring. "I sprained my ankle," I said before he could even say, hello.

  "I told you to be careful. Who do I have to take down?"

  "Veronica Talbert. She sucker-smacked me in a toilet stall."

  There was a long pause, then Cal said, "I'm not sure I want to know. Do you need to see the doctor?"

  "Yes," Jo Jo said as I said, "No."

  I rolled my eyes. "Probably."

  "I'll wait for you," Cal said.

  "We're supposed to be at the police station in half an hour." My ankle throbbed, and my toes felt squishy. "I also need a new pair of shoes."

  "I think once that boot comes off, you won't be wearing another one for a couple of days," Jo Jo said.

  I snarled at him. "Have you always been such a pessimist?"

  He smiled as he put the truck into drive. "Yep."

  To Cal, I said, "We're on our way."

  Chapter Twelve

  My ankle hurt like a beast by the time we'd turned onto Doc Smith's road. Jo Jo's truck didn't bounce as badly as mine, but each time we hit a small dip in the road, the pain intensified.

  "Uhng," I groaned.

  "Hang in there," Jo Jo said.

  Cal stood out front, anxiously bouncing on his toes, looking ready to pounce.

  Jo Jo grinned. "You're hero."

  "Shut up." I punched his arm. Cal had the passenger door open before Jo Jo could put the truck in park.

  "Swing your feet out," he said, his blue eyes focusing on my wet booted foot. He supported my calf, making sure the injured ankle was elevated. "Put your arms around my neck, and I'll lift you out."

  "Okay." As he wrapped his arms around me, I felt mildly euphoric. "Hey, there," I said when we were nose to nose.

  "Hey, there, yourself." He gave me a crooked smile. "Your nose is swelling."

  "What?" I'd been so focused on my ankle that I hadn't worried about my face where Veronica had smacked. I touched the tip. "Does it look bad?"

  "You're making it work."

  Jo Jo got out of truck and opened the door for me as Cal carried me past reception to one of the exam rooms.

  He set me on the padded exam table. Etta stuck her head in the room. "Billy Bob will be here in a minute. Get her boot off if you can." Jo Jo assertion that no toilets were clean had bugged me. Before Cal reached down to undo the laces, I said, "Maybe you should get gloves."

  "Just in case there's any evidence on it?"

  "No, just in case there's any poop on it. It was jammed pretty hard into that toilet bowl."

  Cal laughed, loud and rich. "Thank you for the warning." He grabbed two gloves from a box on the sink counter and deftly pulled them on.

  God, his eyes in the fluorescent lighting looked jewel-toned, even more so against his lightly bronzed skin. Oh, man, and the way his t-shirt stretched tight against his chest and abs made my mouth water. Lord have mercy, for the first time, I understood Michele's impulsivity. Cal Rivers was going to be my undoing.

  He noticed me looking at him, so I said, "You're pretty good at getting those things on. Like a pro."

  "This isn't my first time gloving up." He smiled and raised both hands like a surgeon. "The doctor is in."

  My pulse quickened. "Oh, you like playing doctor, huh?"

  "Do you?" He asked, snapping the latex at the wrist of his glove. He winced at the slight sting it must have caused, and I giggled.

  "I could be persuaded. Maybe we could start with a simple exam."

  He moved in close. "And where shall we start first, Miss Thompson."

  My ankle pulsed with pain and my nose had started to thrumb, but it was my lips that needed his attention. I pointed to them. "We could start here."

  "The patient is always right," Cal said. He bent down, his lips brushing softly over mine as a zing of pleasure zipped through me. I placed my palms on his chest as he moved in to kissed me with such sweet tenderness I thought I would burst. I opened for him and took his lower lip between my teeth and gently nibbled. His growl of appreciation spurred me to bite him a little harder.

  "Christ, woman," he groaned as he pulled back from me. "I didn't think nice girls liked to bite."

  I giggled again. "Who says I'm nice?"

  "Everyone," said Etta as she poked her head in again. "Now put it back in your pants. Billy Bob is on his way."

  Cal straightened up, but it was easy to see that his jeans were the only thing restraining his erection from pointing at me again.

  "Sorry," I mouthed.

  "I'm not," he said aloud. He grabbed two more gloves and shoved them in his back pocket. "For later."

  My mouth went dry thinking about later, as he unlaced my boot and eased it off. He was just getting to my sock when the doc knocked.

  "Can I come in?" Doc asked from behind the closed door.

  I blushed. Had he heard us as well? "Sure. Come on in." Nothing to see here...now.

  He had his long silver hair pulled away from his face. Since he'd gotten rid of his dread locks, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him with it down around his shoulders, but I was sure he'd be a sight to behold. His gray eyes swirled as he gave me a questioning look. "Cal says you twisted your ankle."

  "Yep." I pointed to my naked foot. "That side."

  Doc Smith smiled. "I figured." He put on gloves and touched the inside then the outside of my ankle. I winced and retracted from him when he pressed just above the outer ankle bone. "Okay. Can you move it for me?"

  I carefully extended my toes down then up and side to side. "It hurts, but yes."

  "The swelling's not too bad at this point," Doc said, "but it's going to get that way if we don't get you treated. Do you want me to call your mom?"

  "No," I said faster than I should of.

  Doc gave me a suspicious appraisal. "Why not?"

  "Because I'm an adult now," I told him. "She doesn't need to know everything that happens to me."

  Doc took of
f one of his gloves and felt my forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"

  "Fine. You know, except the ankle."

  "And what about your nose?"

  "I whacked it on a door," I said. My eyes widened at how easy the lie had spilled from my lips. What in the world? This was not me. I didn't keep things from my mom. I didn't lie to people I'd known, loved, and respected my whole life. It was like someone had come along and gave me a personality transplant. I must have looked like I was internally freaking out, because Cal went around the other side of the exam table and took my hand.

  "It's been a difficult day," Cal said. "Neither of us are feeling much ourselves."

  Doc nodded. "I was worried that might be the case. I was planning to tell you both later, but now is as good a time as any. I detected large amounts of ketamine in your blood plasma. It can have some strange side effects until it's completely out of your system."

  "Like what?"

  "It can dull pain receptors, cause mild euphoria, memory gaps, and make you feel foggy brained when it is leaving your system."

  "I can certainly feel the pain," I told him, but I have had some euphoria and foggy brain. "Can it make me act out of character?"

  "Only at the height of the drug effect, and as long as you aren't using it chronically, those changes are not permanent."

  Well, I guess I couldn't blame my racy banter on drug use. "Could this prove that Cal and I aren't responsible for Luke's death?"

  Doctor Smith sighed. He looked tired and weary as he sat down on a nearby rolling chair. "That's where it all gets a little tricky." He rolled himself to the sink drawer and pulled out a syringe and a small rubber-topped bottle of clear liquid. "I shouldn't be telling you all this, but Chavvah, through Brother Wolf, is certain Cal, and by default, you, had nothing to do with Luke's death."

  "Of course, we didn't."

  "What's the problem, Billy Bob?" Cal asked.

  "Between liver temp and livor mortis, I can say with some certainty that Luke died between ten and eleven, less than two hours after you went off into the woods. The problem is, I can't say with any certainty when you two were drugged."