“Some creatures love to boast, don’t they?” Peasblossom played with the edge of her flower petal skirt. “Not very humble. But you can’t expect every species to be as evolved as pixies, can you?” She huffed. “Too bad it didn’t happen in the city. I have a whole army there, lots and lots of ears.”
“And you built that army in less than a day, didn’t you?” I said. “Imagine if you built another one here. You’d have armies everywhere.”
Peasblossom’s eyes glittered. “Armies everywhere. I like the sound of that.”
“Of course you do. Go find a witness. We need to know what’s keeping our werewolf friend silent.”
The pixie nodded and bounced on her toes, ready to take off. Then she stilled and looked at me. “Does it seem to you like I do all the work?”
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “You mean like going to the store to buy honey instead of taking on the bees to get it yourself?”
She cleared her throat. “Point taken.”
I smiled after her as she took off, vanishing into the woods in a wink. All joking aside, I’d be lost without the little pixie. I went back inside and found a ranger to direct me to Emma.
I found her sitting behind her desk, fingers poised, unmoving on the keyboard. Her brown skin was smooth and wrinkle-free except for the deep lines around her eyes. Her hair curled out in springy waves from her head, and even sitting down, I could tell she had the long, lean build of a dancer. The dark circles under her eyes, along with the zombie-like stare she’d leveled on her keyboard, made me approach cautiously, not wanting to startle her.
I knocked on the wall of the cubicle. “Hello?”
She spun so fast that I fell back a step, startled by her wide-eyed stare. As soon as she processed my appearance, she relaxed, then reached for a glass of water on her desk. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t hear you coming. Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry I startled you. I’m Shade Renard; I’m here helping Sergeant Osbourne.” I hesitated. “Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry? Oh, yes.” She laughed and put her water down to rub both hands over her face. “I must look like a wreck. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I would imagine not. Anthony said you were at the animal hospital with him all night.”
“You spoke with Mr. Catello?” She toyed with her glass, turning it in circles on her desk. “Did he also mention Gypsy’s injuries were all my fault?”
I cleared my throat. “He may have given me that impression.”
“He’s right.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “Maybe if I’d let him help find Gypsy, we would have found her before she got hurt.”
I leaned on the cubicle wall, the sweatshirt in the plastic bag pinned between my leg and the partition. Emma was obviously upset, so now wasn’t the time to return the bloody reminder of last night’s events. “It’s not your fault. If not for you, Gypsy could have much worse than an injured leg. If Anthony can’t see that, then that’s his problem.”
Emma shrugged. “I have three dogs of my own.” She lifted a picture from her desk. The image in the pale wood frame showed Emma sitting on a grey couch that had seen better days. Three dogs fought for the place of honor in her lap.
“What are their names?” I asked.
“The blue-nose pit is Nova. Her owner abandoned her at birth, and she is now the most spoiled creature you’ve ever met. The corgi is Crash. He keeps the yard free of squirrels, ducks, and cats.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “Except one cat. He seems to have made friends with my neighbor’s calico. And the last one is Aro; he’s a German shepherd. Some monster threw him out of the truck because he didn’t have the black and tan coloring of most shepherds. He’s getting over a fight with his ball.”
“A fight with his ball?”
Emma grinned, and the expression chased some of the shadows from her face. “He was chasing it and went too fast and tripped over it. He seems to think the ball did it on purpose. It’s been a week and he’s just now nosing around it again.”
I laughed and propped my chin on the edge of the cubicle. “They all sound like such characters.”
“That they are.” A shadow fell over her features, and the corners of her mouth fell. “I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if one of them were lost in the park. There’s so many ways they can get hurt. And if there was someone else in the park, someone who wanted to hurt them…” She rubbed her thumb over the three furry faces. “I can’t say I would have reacted to someone getting between me and one of my dogs any differently than Mr. Catello did.”
“Gypsy’s ordeal seems like it hit home for you. Stephen mentioned you were really upset when you called him.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement. I sobbed like a little girl with a skinned knee. God, I felt so…awful. Poor Gypsy.” Her voice thickened with the threat of tears, and my heart went out to her.
“Emma, you did everything you could. It’s because of you that Gypsy is still alive.”
She sniffed and nodded. “I guess so.” She straightened in her seat, tapping her hands against the surface of her desk. “I’m sorry, you said you’re helping Sergeant Osbourne—did you need something from me? What case are you helping with?”
“I’m a private investigator working with the Wild Animal Task Force to figure out what happened to that man they found in the park last night.”
Emma frowned. “What?”
I hesitated. “No one told you?”
“Sergeant Osbourne called me and asked me if I’d seen any predators, said there’d been an attack… He didn’t say anyone had died.”
“Last night after you left with Gypsy, a boy called 911 and said he found a body. It turned out to be a man named Oliver Dale. A significant portion of his stomach was missing, as if some animal had gotten to him.”
Emma’s lips parted, her mouth moving before any sound came out. “Eaten? Oh my God, is Stephen okay?”
Her first instinct was to ask about Stephen. Interesting. “Yes, he’s fine.” I paused. “Are you two…close?”
Emma nodded, her eyes still too wide. “We’ve worked together for years. But it’s not just that—Stephen took over my zone last night when I took Gypsy to the hospital. If he got hurt because I wasn’t there to back him up…” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “But you said he’s all right? Is he here?” She stood, her hands shaking as she looked around.
“I’m not sure.” I couldn’t tell her that Stephen was on werewolf house arrest for snacking on a dead body. Blood and bones, why hadn’t Liam told her what happened already?
The alpha in question came around the corner, waving a handful of papers in the air. “Coroner’s full report came in.”
“Sergeant, where’s Stephen?” Emma asked.
“He’s canvassing the area around the park.” Liam looked at me, his expression neutral. “Did you…?”
“I told her about the body.” I held his gaze. “I thought she already knew.”
“It’s not her case, and I don’t share unpleasantness unless I have to, especially not with someone who’s not on duty. I was going update you today when you came in,” he told Emma.
“I’m glad Stephen’s all right,” Emma said with a weak smile.
“He is, he is, don’t worry. It’ll take more than a coyote to take Stephen down, trust me.” He raised the papers he was holding in my direction. “My office?”
I nodded and followed him out, leaving Emma staring into space. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Liam turned. “The coroner made his ruling,” he said grimly. “Homicide. Oliver Dale was shot.”
Chapter 8
I faltered in the doorway, shock pushing my eyebrows into my hairline. “Shot?”
Liam nodded and slapped the file in his hand on his desk. “Beveling on the bone suggests a .40 caliber. There was also evidence of hydrostatic shock.”
Hydrostatic shock referred to the wave of pressure caused by a penetrating projectile. The
pressure of a bullet entering the body could radiate outward, causing damage surrounding neural tissues.
“Definitely shot, then.” I bit my lip as I picked the file up off Liam’s desk. I frowned at the evidence bag in my other hand.
“I thought you were going to return that to Emma?” Liam asked.
“She’s really upset about what happened to Gypsy, still blaming herself for not finding her before she got hurt. I didn’t think now was the time to hand her a sweatshirt covered in Gypsy’s blood.” I set the file back on the desk and unzipped the pouch at my waist. “I’ll give it to her later, when she’s had a chance to get a little distance from last night’s trauma.” I grabbed the evidence bag smashed it as much as I could before angling the corner at the enchanted pouch. “Why would a werewolf shoot someone?”
“He wouldn’t.”
Liam sounded distracted, so I glanced up. The werewolf was staring at the pouch, watching with a combination of interest and horror as the large bag disappeared into the small confines of the enchanted compartment.
“It’s bigger on the inside,” I told him.
“I see.” He shook himself and fixed me with a smile. “Anyway, this is good news. Oliver Dale was shot, he didn’t die from animal-inflicted wounds.”
It would have been more beneficial to our working relationship to let that go. Especially with our recent…misunderstandings. But I couldn’t. I nodded to the gun holstered to Liam’s side. “I assume Stephen carries a weapon as well? Especially while on patrol?”
Liam’s face shut down, eyes cooling to an icy stare. “Yes.”
I waited, but he didn’t continue. “What caliber?”
A shadow passed over Liam’s face, but he didn’t look away. “A werewolf doesn’t need a gun to kill someone. You know that.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that just because a werewolf didn’t need to shoot someone, it didn’t mean he hadn’t shot someone. I’d asked my question, and Liam understood what I meant. If he didn’t want to acknowledge it now, that was fine. Eventually, he’d have to let me interview Stephen, and I’d ask the ranger then.
“How many rangers were on duty last night?” I asked instead.
“Six. Why?”
I finished jamming the evidence bag into the pouch and zipped it up. “Emma only asked about Stephen.”
Liam shrugged. “I’ve suspected for some time that something was developing between those two. They’re the same rank, so I didn’t see the harm in it.”
I sat up. “And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”
“Why would I?”
I stared at him in disbelief. Romance was never irrelevant. And if I wasn’t so certain he’d blame that opinion on my ovaries, I’d have told him so.
“To be clear, you’re telling me you dated Emma, and now Stephen is dating Emma.”
Liam snorted. “Don’t make this into a soap opera. As I told you before, Emma and I had one date; that’s it. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that she’s dating Stephen now.”
“That wasn’t what I was getting at,” I said testily. “My point is, Emma has now dated two werewolves that we know of.”
“So?” Liam’s brows pinched.
“So, I can’t help but wonder if she knows you’re werewolves?”
“No, she doesn’t. None of the human employees do.”
I bit back the urge to laugh in his face right then. Instead, I folded my hands in my lap. “It’s not possible? There is zero possibility she knows Stephen’s a werewolf?”
Liam started to answer, then stopped. “Nothing is impossible,” he said grudgingly. “But I’m telling you, she doesn’t know.”
“I could find out for sure.”
His eyes narrowed. “How?”
I leaned back in the chair, trying to look as casual as possible. “I could ask her.”
Liam stared at me. For a second, he didn’t say anything, as if he were waiting for me to say more, as if there had to be more to my plan than what I’d said. I didn’t say anything.
“Ask her,” he repeated. “You don’t see a flaw in that plan?”
“None whatsoever. It’s easy, it’s direct, and a simple hypnotic suggestion would make her forget I ever asked her.”
“No.”
I crossed my arms. “I promise you, it would work. Once the mind’s curiosity is satisfied, it’s much easier to convince someone to forget what they know. I could ask her about werewolves in a roundabout fashion, get a feel for what she—”
Liam smacked his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward. “This conversation is over. You are not talking to Emma about werewolves, end of story.”
Anger shot through my veins like a kick of molten caffeine. I held very, very still, waiting for my temper to settle, breathing through the urge to do something petty and satisfying to wipe that superior tone from Liam’s voice. When I could speak without spitting a spell at him, I kept my voice as even as possible.
“Is it possible, Sergeant Osbourne, that the reason you are so dead set against my speaking with Emma about werewolves is because you realize that if she’s not as ignorant as you think she is, then that could make her a witness?”
Liam stiffened. “Excuse me?”
I shrugged one shoulder, not taking my eyes from his. “If Emma believes in werewolves, then wouldn’t it make sense to ask her about Stephen? Did he seem agitated? Did he complain of being hungry? Did you see him attack someone and eat them?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his broad chest rose and fell with a deep, slow breath. “Emma was at the hospital. She wouldn’t have seen anything.”
“She was at the hospital around midnight,” I corrected him. “We don’t have an exact time of death. She could have seen something.”
“I talked to her. She saw nothing.”
“You talked to her,” I scoffed. “You didn’t tell her about the body. What exactly did you ask her?”
“I asked her if she’d seen any predators around, coyotes, or coywolves. She didn’t see anything. If she’d seen a wolf, she would have mentioned it. Especially if she knows Stephen is a werewolf.”
“She might know Stephen is a werewolf, but not you. From what you’ve told me, she’s a lot closer to him than she ever had the chance to get with you. It’s possible she knows what he is, and she knows what she saw. It’s possible she saw a werewolf and doesn’t want to tell you because she’s afraid you’ll think she’s crazy.”
Liam held up a hand, and if I hadn’t seen the veins bulging out of his temples, I wouldn’t have realized how angry he was. “This is pointless. There’s a bullet out there that could give us the answers we need. Why don’t we work on finding that bullet—that physical evidence—before we leap to conclusions?” He picked up the phone. “I’ll call Blake and Sonar and have them look for it.”
I didn’t argue. There was no point. “Sounds like a plan.” I stood from my seat and gave him a strained smile. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t even look at me as I slipped out of the office. I waited until I heard him on the phone, then made a beeline for Emma’s desk. Whatever Liam said, now that it had occurred to me that Emma might know about werewolves, she had far too much potential as a witness to ignore. I had to find out if she was a believer. If she was, she and I needed to have a chat about Stephen and what happened last night.
I tried to tell myself that Liam’s outright refusal to even consider asking Emma about werewolves came from an instinct to protect his pack, to not let humans know there were werewolves amongst them. After all, humans hadn’t evolved so far that fire and pitchforks wouldn’t make a roaring comeback if anyone could offer proof of a werewolf’s existence, let alone one’s presence on the police force.
But a little voice in my head whispered that it was equally likely Liam was in denial. Perhaps he feared what Emma would have to say if she found she could speak freely about her lupine coworker…
“Excuse me,
can I help you, miss?”
I blinked and realized I was standing by Emma’s cubicle, staring at her empty chair. A woman stood beside me, and I recognized her as one of the secretaries Liam had greeted the first time I’d come here. “Yes,” I said, turning away from Emma’s desk. “I’m looking for Emma?”
The woman gave me a polite but curious smile. “She’s not here at the moment. I believe she’s on patrol. Could I see your visitor’s badge?”
“Visitor’s badge?”
Liam hadn’t said anything about a visitor’s badge. In an unkind moment, I wondered if that had been intentional, a way for him to trip me up, or make sure I didn’t go wandering around unattended. I smiled and reached for my magic, ready to use a little extra charm if it became necessary.
Before I could say or do anything, my back warmed with the buzz of shifter energy.
Angry shifter energy.
“I’ve got this, Amy, thank you,” Blake said.
Amy gave Blake a more genuine smile then she’d given me. “No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”
I arched an eyebrow as Blake’s smile brought a tinge of pink to the woman’s cheeks.
“I will, thanks,” he said.
Blake’s expression remained pleasant until Amy left earshot, then he glared at me, dark brown eyes hard and unfriendly. “Why are you poking around back here without an escort?”
I looked down to find Sonar giving me an equally suspicious glare. It was a strange look on a German shepherd.
“I’m searching for the coffee machine.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I had planned to stop for coffee; I’d just thought I’d be doing it with Emma so we could have a chat with our caffeine. “Did Liam call you about going to look for the bullet?”
Blake’s expression didn’t soften. “Yeah. He didn’t mention you’d gone for coffee, though.”
Monster Page 12
