Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Even though the wolf was on the verge of exploding out of him at any minute because he sensed something, something big.

  “Did you get too much sun?” he prompted, trying to sound sympathetic when he felt anything but.

  She wanted to say yes that was the reason. He could tell it by the way she hesitated before shaking her head—like she wanted to nod, wanted to blame it all on the midday sun.

  “It was that voice. I knew that voice. Where did it come from?” She looked around, chewing her lip. “How did you get a recording of that voice?”

  “That was a recording of the stalker,” Braxton explained, though he suspected she already knew. “I sent it to our technician, and she managed to improve the sound quality.”

  “Who is it?” Sledge asked, leaning in. “If you know who it is, you have to tell us. We have to stop this guy.”

  Her eyes welled with tears, and she took off her glasses to wipe them with the back of her hand. “You have to believe me when I tell you I been trying to stop him. I told him he went too far. I haven’t been able to reach him since Paul was murdered—it’s like he completely dropped off the grid.”

  Wood creaked under Braxton’s hands, gripping the back of the sofa. She had no idea what she was playing with here, how close he was to revealing a big secret. “Who is it?” he growled in the wolf’s voice, unable to contain it.

  She looked up at him, cringing. It was like her body crumpled in on itself, like she was trying to defend herself against an attack that hadn’t come. “Luke. Luke. I swear I tried to stop him!”

  “You knew he was doing this all along?” Jace demanded.

  Melody shrank back even further from the rage he didn’t bother concealing. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything malicious! Not at first. And it was his idea!”

  “What was his idea?” Zane muttered with a glance toward Braxton. He couldn’t bring himself to react, to show any feelings about what he was learning. If he did, something terrible might happen. He might end up doing or saying something he couldn’t take back.

  “You have no idea what it’s like trying to keep clients in the public eye,” she whispered as her gaze traveled down to the glass she still held in one hand. “It’s a never-ending struggle. There are so many people out there, so much content hitting the internet every minute of the day. I can’t tell you the last time I slept more than a couple of hours in a night—no, I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me,” she added with a snicker before any of them could argue.

  “So what? What was his big idea? How does scaring her make her more popular?” Jace reached over and pried her fingers away from the glass, placing it on the coffee table. Now she had nothing to distract her, nothing to draw her focus. She would have to face what she’d done—and face them.

  “The idea was to feed the story to the media. She got a few threatening messages. Somebody had her in their crosshairs. We would make her more sympathetic. We’d make people more interested in her. Obviously, if she had a stalker, that meant she was worth obsessing over.”

  She looked around, shrugging helplessly. “What? It sort of worked, didn’t it? She’s the hottest thing in the world right now even without the movie increasing her visibility.”

  “Where did it go off the rails?” Jace seemed to be the only one capable of keeping himself semi-calm. “Obviously, he had different ideas than you thought he did.”

  She nodded, looking miserable. “I figured it out pretty quickly that he was serious. He lied to me when he made this sound like a good thing for her, something to benefit her. He told me he didn’t mean it, that he wasn’t really trying to threaten her. He reminded me of how long he’d been working with her, blah blah blah. He even made it sound like it was all my idea. Here’s the thing: I didn’t want to believe he was serious. Serenity always liked him. She always trusted him. I wanted to believe he was the good guy she thought he was.”

  “What made you finally understand?” Braxton snarled. He’d been right not to trust her. There was something inherently sketchy about her entire attitude.

  She wouldn’t look up at him. “What do you think?”

  “You told him, didn’t you? You called him and told him what happened with Paul Bergman. Then you had the nerve to act surprised when you saw the reports of his murder on TV.”

  “No! No, you’re wrong about that. Yes, I admit I called him. I thought he would want to know. After all, once you guys were gone, he would have to come back to work. And I still wanted to believe he cared about her, as a friend at least. So I told him, but when the news came out about the murder, I was just as surprised as Serenity—if not more so. Surprised and shocked.”

  “And guilty. Don’t forget guilty. After all, you were the one who started him down this road.”

  “No! I’m telling you this was his idea. Now I understand why. He was only looking for an opportunity to get away with something like this. He wanted to hurt her. I don’t know why.”

  “I’m sure I can tell you why,” Braxton informed her. “All right, then let’s talk about this. You could have told us. We would’ve put a stop to it. I don’t understand why you even reached out to the studio in the first place. Why would you tell them about this when it was all your own doing?”

  “Again, it was all about her visibility. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. Ever heard that saying? It’s true here, too. It’s one thing to be a diva or create drama. Nobody likes that, and nobody wants to work with it unless the person in question is a proven moneymaker. Serenity’s not that person yet, so I wanted to keep her top of mind by telling the studio we were having a problem with a stalker. Again, this was important enough for somebody to stalk. She was important. That’s why you came in.”

  “And why you never seemed very concerned about anything,” Braxton concluded.

  “He would never actually hurt her. That much, I’m sure of. If he’s angry with her over something and wanted to shake her up to scare her a little bit, it’s been done. He wouldn’t actually do anything to her. He wouldn’t have killed Paul if he didn’t care about her.”

  “You have a pretty twisted way of looking at things,” he snickered.

  At least now they knew where to go. He could put an end to this quickly enough. It might even be enjoyable, taking him to the police.

  Then he lifted his head and listened hard. “How long has the music been off?” he asked when he noticed its absence.

  One by one, the rest of his team members fell silent, too. “I didn’t notice,” Sledge muttered.

  “Me neither,” Zane grunted.

  This was wrong. This was very wrong. He took off at a run, hurling himself down the stairs to the basement. “Serenity?” he called out, dashing through the gym and into the steam room, then the shower.

  It was empty.

  She could’ve come upstairs and gone straight to the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time, only to find Jace running downstairs from her bedroom at the same time. “She’s not up there.”

  “Son of a bitch.” What could’ve happened? How could she have gotten past them? And why would she? There he was, thinking she’d changed, matured. Especially after what they’d been through together, why would she go out alone?

  He realized he left his phone on the dining room table when Melody fainted. “She texted me,” he whispered when he reached it. Nausea threatened to overtake him as he opened his messages. “No. No, no, God no.” He thrust the phone in Jace’s direction while staring at Melody.

  The girl was curled up on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees. It was like she’d gone from an adult to a child in minutes. “What happened?” she whispered. “Is she okay?”

  “Where would she go with Luke? Where would she go? What was important to them? Where would he take her?” It was all he could do not to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she passed out again. If he hadn’t needed her so much, he might have done it anyway.

  “I have his address. Do you think she’s with him?�
�� Melody jumped to her feet, panicked.

  “No, I’m asking for my health. Yes, she’s with him right now. I need to figure where he’d want to meet her or where he’d take her after they met up.” He entered Luke’s address into his phone and sent it to the others.

  “I don’t know where they’d meet,” she admitted. “Especially with him being in the sort of place he’s in now.”

  It was time for a judgment call, one that could make the difference between life and death. “The odds are he’d take her back to his place or some other third, private place. He wouldn’t want to see her in public. We’ll check the apartment first.”

  He didn’t need to tell his team what they were going to do. He only had to lead the way, holding out his hand to catch the keys that Jace tossed to him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A familiar smell hit her before she opened her eyes. Lunchmeat. There was a sandwich with onions on it somewhere nearby.

  What a strange thing to notice before anything else. With her eyes closed, her other senses grew stronger as a result.

  She kept her eyes closed then to explore what was around her while also letting Luke think she was still unconscious.

  The room she was in was silent. She couldn’t even hear any other breathing when she held her breath. There was no movement, nothing. He must’ve left her alone for a little while.

  Luke. It couldn’t be true, but it was. All along, he’d been the one doing this. Which meant he’d killed Paul. He was that cold-blooded.

  But why? It couldn’t really be because they’d argued. Maybe the feelings she’d suspected were there were even stronger than she’d imagined.

  But no. No, she wouldn’t take responsibility for this. He made his choices. Just because she’d never admitted to herself that he probably had feelings for her didn’t mean he had reason to kill somebody.

  And then call her to heap all the blame on her shoulders.

  She wished that onions smell wasn’t so thick. Then again, he never wore or cologne, and he was always so quiet anyway. When he wanted to go unnoticed, he did a good job of it.

  She was lying down, and the surface under her wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was soft, smooth. A sofa? A bed? God, she hoped it wasn’t a bed.

  It was probably a bed.

  Bile threatened to rise up and choke her. Who knew what kind of ideas he already had in his head? He must’ve planned this. People didn’t randomly carry drug-soaked cloths in their glovebox, did they?

  She wasn’t tied down or anything. Her feet and hands were free. That was good. He was treating her well, not like a prisoner or an animal or something.

  When all of her concentration was focused on him, it was easier to sense him coming. He’d actually left her alone for a little bit—that came as a surprise. She could use that to her advantage.

  Couldn’t she? Well, she could hope, anyway.

  “You’re up. Good. I was starting to worry that I’d given you too much or something.” He sat in a chair next to the bed. She heard him and sensed him rather than saw him since she hadn’t opened her eyes yet.

  He sounded so friendly, so like his usual self. How could he, after doing this? Not to mention everything else he’d done.

  She played up the wooziness as much as she could. “What’s happening?” she mumbled, opening her eyes slowly. She acted like every movement was torture, exhausting.

  “I’ve been trying for two years to get you to visit my apartment,” Luke chuckled. “I never thought I would have to go to these lengths to get you to come.”

  “You just had to ask again, nicely,” she murmured. The fact was, she’d never visited him there because she knew it would seem like something it wasn’t. How stupid was she, pretending for so long that she didn’t know how he felt? It was so obvious. The whole time, she told herself he was just a friend and that was how he saw her.

  If she lived through this, she’d have to remember that it didn’t matter how much she wanted something to be true. If it wasn’t, it wasn’t. Ignorance could only get her so far.

  “You hungry? I got you your favorite.” The plate scraped against the table, which she guessed without looking was the nightstand. Was this really happening? Her eyes were fully open now, and she looked up to find him offering her an Italian hoagie.

  “I feel a little queasy right now,” she admitted, and that was the truth. Food was the last thing she needed. Had he left her unconscious in the car while he went back to get sandwiches? Was he that perverse?

  He frowned, returning the plate to the table. “I didn’t have any other way of getting you alone. It’s not like you would’ve come here with me if I’d asked.”

  “You don’t know that,” she argued. Was it right to argue with him when he had her in this position? Maybe she should just go along with him, tell him what he wanted, and hope somebody got to her in time.

  “It was unprofessional anyway,” he admitted. “We did always keep things professional, didn’t we?”

  “I thought we were friends,” she whispered. “I really did.”

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he laughed. Leaning back away from her at least gave her a little breathing room. He folded his arms over his chest, still snickering as he shook his head.

  “I don’t understand. I really don’t. I’m not lying. I’m sorry if that wasn’t enough. I’m just trying to say I didn’t think you were only an employee.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you thought,” he spat, his smile disappearing like he’d wiped it from his face. “I was your employee. You were my boss. That was it. If you ever wanted me to be a friend, it was because you wanted something from me. That’s it.”

  He was right, too. She’d used him, keeping him close and taking comfort in him when she never had any intention of giving him what he wanted but without telling him so. She should’ve told him.

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” she decided. When his eyes widened in surprise, she continued. “You’re right. I took you for granted. It was so wrong. I wouldn’t forgive me either if I were you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Where is this coming from?”

  “You’re telling me the truth. What, do you think I’m incapable of facing the truth?”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it. You were never very good at it. You never saw what was right in front of you, especially if it was something you didn’t want to face—like whether Ben was cheating on you. Obviously, he was. All the time. Just like you didn’t want to face how you used your friends, those first friends of yours. They stopped meaning anything to you once you got bigger than them, right? You’ve been using people since the minute you stepped foot into this town. Anyone who you thought would get you further along, you attached yourself to them. What? Did you think you could keep getting away with it, that nobody would ever call you out?”

  “Killing Paul Bergman wasn’t calling me out.” Yet another thing she probably shouldn’t have said. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d taped her mouth shut—at least, it would probably have been less dangerous for her.

  His entire expression changed. “He didn’t deserve to live. What? Did you think that just because you fired me I was going to stop caring about you? Did you think I would be okay with that? Do you know anything about me at all? The minute Melody told me, I knew what I had to do.”

  “I didn’t want you to do that. I didn’t want anybody to die.”

  “Even after what he did to you?”

  “Yeah, even then. I wouldn’t have told you to kill him. I’m not trying to pretend to be an angel, but I never would’ve told you to do it. Please, don’t act like you did it for me.”

  “Please, don’t tell me what to do.” He sat up straighter, leaning toward her again. It was like a bucket of cold water getting dumped over her head, the iciness rolling off him and seeping into her. “I’m not going to rewrite history for you. I would’ve done just about anything for you, but I can’t do that. I made him pay for what he did. A
nd here you are, being an ungrateful bitch just like you’ve always been.”

  She’d pushed him too far. He was starting to change, to turn into somebody different, the sort of person it would take to murder someone in cold blood, to threaten her the way he had.

  “I’m not trying to be,” she said, fighting to regain control of the situation—if she’d ever had it in the first place.

  “You don’t even bother to thank me. I went over there and killed a man, cold-blooded, and you can’t even bother to be grateful.”

  “Thank you,” she whimpered. It was so unbelievable, the words she felt forced to say. “Thank you for taking care of him. He probably would’ve blacklisted me.”

  “Of course, he would have! A pig like that? I can’t believe Melody let you go in there by yourself. But there you are, with your stupid choices. Just like with Ben, you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Of course, it was stupid to go into that office by yourself, but here you are, acting like everything is just fine, little miss golden girl. Everybody else is here to clean up your messes.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. It didn’t matter what he said anymore. She would agree with anything so long as he calmed down and got that absolutely hateful look out of his eye.

  Was this what Paul had seen in his last moments? That mask of rage, that expression of somebody looking at something beneath contempt?

  He sighed. “So now you see why I had to do this. I had to make it so you would actually listen for the first time. Otherwise, you’d sit there on your high horse, telling me what I did was wrong.”

  “I wanna go home,” she whimpered. “I’m scared. You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m not doing this to scare you. I only want you to listen.”

  “I could listen there too. I could listen anywhere. I know it’s hard to believe,” she added when he snickered, “but I’ve changed. You’ve helped me change. You probably didn’t mean for that to happen. Thank you for that. I mean it, sincerely.” Should she try to sit up? Or would he make her wish she hadn’t?