by Anne Bishop
“I appreciate you responding so promptly,” Simon said.
“Frankly, Mr. Wolfgard, I’m surprised you asked for me at all,” Monty replied. Something about those amber eyes. They were more feral now than they had been this morning, if that was possible.
“I talked to the members of the Business Association, and we all agree that while the woman in the wanted poster bears a strong resemblance to our Liaison, they are not the same person.”
Monty opened his mouth to disagree, then realized there was no point. Wolfgard knew perfectly well Meg Corbyn was the woman on the wanted poster.
“Furthermore,” Simon continued, “it seems the police are not the only ones who have made that mistake. Late Watersday night, someone tried to break in to the efficiency apartments we keep over the seamstress/tailor’s shop. He only got as far as breaking the lock on the outside door and climbing the stairs before being scared off by Henry Beargard.”
“You’re sure it was one man?” Monty asked.
“There might have been another waiting in the vehicle, but Henry smelled only one intruder.”
While Wolfgard’s form didn’t change, he wasn’t making any pretense now at passing for human.
“You didn’t report the attempted break-in,” Monty said, shoving his hands in his overcoat pockets to hide the trembling.
“I’m reporting it now. A broken lock wasn’t sufficient reason to trouble our friends in the police, but if it was an attempt to take our Liaison against her will, then it deserves everyone’s attention. We have, of course, taken precautions. Meg Corbyn is now residing in the Green Complex, where safe access is only possible by prior arrangement. I live there. So does Vladimir Sanguinati and Henry Beargard.”
Message understood. No one who tried to reach Meg Corbyn when she was asleep or otherwise vulnerable would survive.
“I’m sure Ms. Corbyn appreciates your interest in her well-being,” Monty said.
Simon barked out a laugh. “Not enough to notice.” Then his face took on that feral look that was terrible to see on an otherwise human face. “Human law doesn’t apply in the Courtyard, Lieutenant. No matter what anyone else thinks, Meg Corbyn is ours now—and we protect our own. You make sure you send that message back to whoever made the poster.”
“Do you know why someone is making so much effort to find her?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
One other angle to try. “If the items that were stolen were returned, I don’t think Ms. Corbyn would be of interest to—”
Flickers of red in Wolfgard’s amber eyes. When he spoke, Monty didn’t think Simon was even aware of the way his voice snarled, “Meg is ours.”
Another message there—and a sudden suspicion that he might be dealing with something far more delicate and dangerous than he’d realized.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Wolfgard.” It was hard to do, but he turned his back on the Wolf and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.
He didn’t get all the way down the stairs when the howl came from the floor above him.
He nodded to the pale young woman behind the counter and walked out of Howling Good Reads—and noticed how many people who had been browsing in the front of the store looked up and then headed for the checkout counter.
Kowalski was waiting for him when he slid into the passenger’s side of the patrol car. On the other side of the snow-shrunk parking lot was a van with FALLACARO LOCK & KEY painted on the sides.
“Anything?” he asked as he adjusted his seat belt.
Kowalski tipped his head toward the three men crowded around a glass door. “Break-in the other night. Broken lock. Intruder didn’t get far enough to enter any of the apartments and take anything. Chris Fallacaro runs this side of the business. His father is semiretired, which I took to mean has some prejudice against the Others and doesn’t take these particular service calls.”
“Does Mr. Fallacaro do any of the residential locks in the Courtyard?”
Kowalski shook his head. “He’s teaching a couple of the Others about replacing locks, and they’ve got their own key-cutting machine set up in their Utilities Complex. I had a chance to talk to him for a minute before the Others showed up. He says they don’t quibble about a bill, pay in cash, and outside of crowding him to watch what he’s doing and sniffing him—which can be unnerving because they can tell if he’s been with his girlfriend or what his mother served for dinner the previous night—there’s nothing hard about working with them.”
“If a key ever found its way into the wrong hands, that boy wouldn’t survive a day,” Monty said.
“Oh, he knows that, Lieutenant. That’s why he’s very careful about handing over all the keys, and goes to their complex to help them make extra sets.”
“All right. Let’s go back to the station. Looks like I’m going to spoil Captain Burke’s afternoon.”
* * *
Monty watched his captain’s expression turn stonier as he gave his report.
“You really think they’ll fight about this?” Burke asked.
Monty nodded. “They’ll fight.”
Burke leaned back in his chair. “You have any thoughts about why this woman is so important to them—or what she stole?”
“Why do any of us bring a stray kitten into our home and feed it?” Monty replied. “It may have been no more complicated than that in the beginning, but now that someone has invaded their land to get to Ms. Corbyn, the Others are a lot more invested in keeping her.” He paused, not sure how much to reveal about his own suspicions. “Something Simon Wolfgard said has been bothering me. If the victim of the theft knew who had taken the items and could give us what amounts to a photo ID for the wanted poster, why couldn’t he supply a name? If this is some kind of corporate theft and Meg Corbyn was an employee, why weren’t we told her name?”
“You’re edging toward a point. What is it?”
“What if she didn’t have a name? Or what if anonymity is for her own protection?”
“Everyone has a—” Burke slowly sat forward.
“From what I understand, those compounds are as well guarded as any Courtyard, and no one, including the clients who go to those places, really knows what goes on inside.”
Burke sighed. “We are standing on thin ice, Lieutenant, and if any part of what you’ve just implied is true, there are going to be some powerful people dropping boulders off a bridge, trying to hit the ice beneath your feet—and mine. Gods above and below, if our city government is seen to be on the wrong side of this argument, and our mayor, along with our jackass governor, has already put us on the wrong side by giving the order to circulate that wanted poster . . .”
He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to. Finally, he pushed himself up. “I’d better talk to the chief and see what he can do about getting those posters off the streets before someone tries to make an arrest. What are you going to do?”
“Talk to MacDonald and Debany when they come on shift and make sure they’re aware of the potential conflict brewing. And I’m going to see if I can confirm or deny my suspicions about why Ms. Corbyn is so interesting to so many people.”
Monty hung up his overcoat and made himself a cup of green tea. Then he sat at his computer and spent the next couple of hours hunting for what little the police actually knew about the race of humans known as cassandra sangue.
CHAPTER 8
Timing her approach, Asia drove her car into the Liaison’s Office delivery area and parked in a way that guaranteed her vehicle would clog up the most space. Then she plucked the takeout cup out of the cup holder and hurried into the office. Seeing Meg hesitate in the doorway of the room marked PRIVATE, she widened her smile and strode up to the counter.
“I’m working an earlier shift and only have a minute,” Asia said, sounding a little brea
thless. “We got off on the wrong foot the other day, and it was totally my fault. I get too enthusiastic sometimes, and I really did want to get acquainted because I don’t have many friends and I think you’re someone I could talk to, you know? Anyway, here’s a little peace offering.” She set the takeout cup on the counter in front of Meg. “I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee or even if you drink it, so I brought you a cup of hot chocolate. Can’t go wrong with chocolate, I always say.”
She shifted position, her body language signaling awkward but sincere. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”
“You didn’t cause trouble,” Meg said. “I appreciate the hot chocolate, and I’d like to chat with you sometime, but . . .”
“But right now you’ve got work and I’ve got work.” Asia looked over her shoulder when a horn beeped and the Crows perched on the stone wall responded. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to Meg. “And I am in the way of those delivery trucks and creating a roadblock on the highway of commerce.”
Meg smiled. “More like the cart path to the petty cash box.”
Waving, Asia hurried out to her car, flashed a smile at the deliveryman that wiped the sour look off his face, and drove out of the Courtyard. As she glanced in her rearview mirror before pulling out into traffic, she noticed two Crows taking off.
Score, Asia thought. Let those black-feathered gossips tell everyone she’d stopped by the office. Meg Corbyn had no social skills and couldn’t lie worth a damn with body or words. The feeb had bought the new version of Asia Crane, and that’s all Asia had been aiming for today.
A cup of coffee here, a slice of pizza there, and she would become the friend Meg couldn’t say no to. And then she would be able to get on with her assignment and make her backers happy.
* * *
A shiver went through Monty when he walked into the station’s assembly room and saw Captain Burke passing out the wanted posters of Meg Corbyn.
“Lieutenant?” Kowalski whispered behind him. “Maybe we should take a seat.”
Burke understands the danger. Why would he . . . ?
Monty looked at the faces of the other men as they glanced at the poster and then studied their captain, and their reaction to this particular assembly began to sink in.
When everyone was seated, Burke gave them all that fierce smile.
“Most wanted,” Burke said. “Grand theft. You will notice there is no mention of what was stolen or the identity of this person, despite an indication that she is, in fact, known to the person or persons who reported the theft. I’ve been told that all cities in the eastern half of Thaisia have been asked to be on the lookout for this person, and we will do our duty to our government and our city by keeping our eyes open.
“But, gentlemen, there are a couple of things I want to emphasize. First, nothing leads me to believe this person is armed or dangerous or in any way a direct threat to us or the citizens of Lakeside. So if you believe you have sighted this woman, force is not required for initial contact. Be clear about that.
“Second, it’s been said that every person has a doppelganger—someone who looks so much like you as to be mistaken for you. That can make for interesting stories of mistaken identity—unless that doppelganger happens to live in a Courtyard.”
Sudden shifting in the chairs. Nervous twitches. Nervous coughs.
“It has come to my attention that someone living in the Lakeside Courtyard bears a strong resemblance to this woman on the poster. I trust you can all appreciate the consequences to this city if we try to apprehend the wrong person. Lieutenant Montgomery and his team are assigned to handle any incidents that deal with the Others, whether the terra indigene are in the Courtyard or out amongst us in the city. If you see someone with the Others who looks like the woman in the poster, you call Lieutenant Montgomery. If he or any of his team asks for backup or assistance, the rest of you will provide it.
“The governor wants this alleged criminal apprehended and the stolen property returned to its rightful owner. He’s given his orders to the mayors of all the cities and towns in the Northeast Region. Those mayors have given their orders to the police commissioners of their cities, who have passed those orders down to the chiefs of police, who have passed them down to the captains, who are, like me, passing them down to the rest of you.”
Burke paused and looked at all of them. He was still smiling, but his blue eyes were bright with anger. “So now you know what His Honor wants you to do. I hope you all understand what I want you to do.”
Monty walked out of the assembly, saying nothing. He stopped at his desk long enough to grab his coat, then left the station. Kowalski caught up to him at the patrol car.
“Where to, Lieutenant?” Kowalski asked as he started the car.
Monty released his breath in a sigh. Burke had walked a verbal tightrope to warn the men of a potential conflict with the Others. He hoped his own careful talk would be as successful. “Howling Good Reads.”
Kowalski drove away from the station. “I don’t think HGR is open this early, but A Little Bite should be open by now.”
Monty glanced at the other man before staring out the passenger’s window. “Karl, coffee on the house is one thing, but we can’t accept breakfast sandwiches and pastries every morning. And MacDonald and Debany shouldn’t be going in for free soup every afternoon.”
A quick smile, there and gone. “I don’t think Officer Debany is stopping by for the soup.”
“Oh?” He thought of the human woman who worked for Tess and understood Debany’s interest. “Nevertheless, this constant largesse could be misunderstood, and we might be creating a tab we don’t want to pay.”
“The last time I offered to pay for the food, the owner seemed insulted, and, frankly, Lieutenant, I’m a lot more scared of her than I am of you.”
Tess. Definitely not someone he wanted to insult. “All right. But . . . restraint.” Monty sighed again. “Besides, if I keep eating like this, I’ll have to find a gym.”
Kowalski was suddenly paying the roads an excessive amount of attention. “Ruthie has been making noises about joining a gym or fitness center—specifically, joining Run and Thump, since it’s the closest place to the apartment we’re moving into. All the residents and employees of the Courtyard can use R and T, but there are also a few memberships open for humans who don’t work for them.”
“This might not be the best time for such a membership,” Monty said. “If anything goes wrong . . .”
“I know, but Ruthie thinks giving the Others positive exposure to humans might help us in the long run. She goes into HGR all the time and says she never feels threatened. If she’s polite, the Others are polite.”
“Help who? The police?”
“Help all of us. Isn’t mutual exposure the whole reason Simon Wolfgard opened a few stores to humans?”
Maybe, Monty thought. After a few days of contact with the Others, he didn’t think Wolfgard wanted to be friends with humans any more than the Wolf wanted to be friends with deer, but having a better understanding of one’s prey was useful for all kinds of reasons.
“Just be careful, both of you,” Monty said.
“Count on it.”
When they reached the Courtyard, HGR still had a Closed sign on the door, but A Little Bite was open. Kowalski pulled into the parking lot.
“Wait here.” Monty reached for the door handle, then stopped. Something about the way Burke had worded things when talking about the Courtyard. Something about the way the men suddenly got twitchy.
He sat back. “Karl? Has a shield ever shown up at that cairn in the park?”
“There wasn’t a specific place to look for identification on a DLU until Daphne Wolfgard was murdered two years ago.” Kowalski stared straight ahead. “It hasn’t happened since Captain Burke took over as patrol captain at the
Chestnut Street station, but there have been times in the past when an officer was reported missing and the abandoned patrol car and a blood-smeared badge were the only things that were found. There’s some speculation that the chief and the captain have an . . . understanding . . . because if Captain Burke wants anyone transferred out of the Chestnut Street station, that person is gone the next day, no arguments made or questions asked.” A hesitation. “There’s a saying among the officers: it’s better to get transferred than be a DLU.”
“Is the hazard pay for being on this team worth the risk?” Monty asked.
“Lieutenant, if things go really wrong between us and the Others, no amount of pay will be worth the risk. But there also won’t be any place in Lakeside that is safe, so maybe taking those risks is what will make the difference for everyone.”
Since Kowalski didn’t seem inclined to add anything else, Monty got out of the car and went into A Little Bite.
Tess was behind the counter. The smile she gave him made him feel as if someone had sliced his back open, leaving him weak and trembling.
“Lieutenant. Coffee is fresh; the pastries are from yesterday. Everyone seems to be getting a slow start this morning.”
“Coffee would be appreciated,” Monty replied. “But I stopped by to see if I could have a word with Mr. Wolfgard. I noticed Howling Good Reads isn’t open yet, so I wondered if you had a way of getting in touch with him.”
“Regarding?”
“A discussion we had yesterday.”
