Nocturnal Revelations

by Amanda S Green

  “How’s Mac?” Norwood asked as she slid in behind the steering wheel a few moments later.

  “No change. Still in surgery.” She turned the key in the ignition and guided the car away from the house.

  “Jael?”

  “I’ll explain when we’re away from here.”

  He glanced across the car at her, his brow knitted in concern. She knew he was worried, possibly even suspicious, but she didn’t care. She needed to think. More than that, she needed to be sure how she wanted to handle the situation. Because of what he was, he presented a danger to her even if he didn’t know what she had in mind.

  And what she had in mind did not need to be done in front of cameras and witnesses.

  Five minutes later, she parked in her own garage. She bought the house six month earlier. Not only was it closer to Chelsea’s and Brandon’s high school but it was only a few blocks from Mac’s and Jackson’s house. Now, however, it gave her someplace private to hold what promised to be a very difficult discussion. There was the added benefit that each room held hidden weapons she could use if necessary, assuming things went south.

  “Jael?” He reached over to open his door.

  “Nate, you have thirty seconds to explain why you weren’t at Mac’s this morning when you were supposed to be.”

  “What?”

  He turned in his seat to face her, only to come up short. His breath hissed out at the sight of her gun, its barrel mere inches from the sweet spot in the center of his forehead. Her expression hard, she motioned for him to do nothing stupid.

  “Think very carefully before you do or say anything.” She opened her car door and slid out. Once she had, she motioned for him to slide across the seat in her direction and step out. “Slide your hands into your belt behind your back, palms out. We’re going inside for a little discussion.” As she spoke, the garage door slid shut, closing them off from prying eyes and ears.

  Snarling, Norwood did as she said. Anger radiated off of him as he slowly walked ahead of her. She had no doubt that had she been anyone else, he’d have tried to disarm her. Fortunately for both of them, he knew her and knew she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. More than that, if he was as smart as she thought, he’d know she wouldn’t shoot to kill but to hurt him enough to stop him until he answered her questions. Then she’d turn him over to Jackson and nothing she did would come close to what the pride leader would do if Norwood had a hand in what happened to Mac.

  “It’s unlocked,” she said when he stopped before the door leading inside the house. “Left hand, fingertips only.”

  This time Norwood’s frustrated growl sounded much like his coyote. But he was smart. He did exactly as she said. Good. A bullet made for an amazing equalizer when it came to shifter versus human and she wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of it if she thought for one moment he had anything to do with what happened to Mac. She’d prefer not to.

  “Sit down.” She gestured with her free hand at the kitchen table. “Feet flat on the floor, both hands on the table where I can see them. But first, take your gun out and leave it in the sink.”

  “Jael.”

  “Do it!”

  She watched, her finger on the trigger, as he complied. Once he was seated, she collected his gun. She removed the magazine and then cleared the chamber. Once done, she dropped the gun back into the sink and pocketed the rest of it.

  “You were supposed to be at Mac’s place by 0645 this morning. You were supposed to have additional information on the defendant for her to review on her way to work. So where were you? And why didn’t you call Pat or me when you heard the Officer Down call go out? You would have recognized the address.” She glanced across the table at him, her expression serious.

  “You’ve lost your mind if you think I had anything to do with what happened,” he rasped.

  She gritted her teeth and reminded herself she couldn’t shoot him—yet. Tempting as it might be, she didn’t know he’d been involved. Even if he wasn’t, he had a lot to explain.

  “Nate, I’m only asking once. Either answer my questions or I’m turning you over to Jackson and Ellen. They’ll get the answers from you and I promise they won’t be as gentle about it as I’m being.”

  He cursed softly and gathered his muscles to stand. Instantly, she bladed her body and tensed, ready to respond to whatever he might try. Anger flashed in his eyes, but she didn’t waver. Instead, she waited, not caring he could shift at any moment and try to run – or worse. Her kind hadn’t survived as long as they had without learning a few tricks of their own.

  “I’m waiting,” she said simply as he dropped back onto his chair.

  For a moment, he stared at her, his disbelief clear. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. She watched as he fought his coyote for control. When he leaned back, she waited, giving him a moment to consider what he said next. Whether it was to explain where he was or figure out a lie she might believe, she could only wait and see.

  “I had a flat.” He all but spat out the words. “I came out of my apartment this morning to find two flat tires. Some asshole went through the lot, cutting into the sidewalls of more than a dozen of the cars there.”

  “So why didn’t you call it in? Why didn’t you call me and let me know you’d be late?”

  “I was pissed off, damn it.” He pressed his lips together and then scrubbed his hands over his face. “I didn’t think.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Put your gun down, Jael. You know me better than that. At least I thought you did.”

  She shook her head. He glared at her, his upper lip pulling back in a snarl.

  “I was still trying to figure out whether I had time to call it in and file a report before having to be at Mac’s when I heard the call come in. Then all I thought about was getting to her place. I forgot about everything else. I jumped into my truck and left.”

  She considered what he said. He normally drove a Jeep Cherokee because it blended it much better if he had to surveille someone than his tricked out pickup truck. “You know I’m going to check it out.” She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

  He closed his eyes. A moment later, his breath hitched and his hands fisted on the tabletop and she waited. If she was right, the implications of what happened finally dawned on him.

  “I’m such a goddamned idiot!” He pounded one fist on the table.

  “I’m not arguing.”

  How could she when there were too many similarities between what happened that morning and what happened the day Michael King and the others were ambushed? That day, someone got into the parking garage and slashed King’s tires, forcing him to take a different vehicle. It might be coincidence, but she didn’t believe in them. Besides, coincidence or not, it had to be investigated.

  “And my flat tires could be related to what happened to Mac.”

  He spoke softly, not that it fooled Jael. He was as angry as was she. Worse, the possible implications turned Jael’s stomach. It was bad enough when a normal perp decided to try to kill a cop. But if this tracked back to the shifters. . . ..

  Sensing the truth in what he said, Jael holstered her weapon. She wouldn’t apologize. He either understood or he didn’t. But her job, both as a cop and as a watcher, was to keep the pride and those sworn to it safe, especially Jackson and Mac as the alpha and his mate.

  “Tell the techs to check your vehicle for prints. Have someone from the squad contact the apartment’s management company. Get copies of the security feed for last night and this morning. Let’s see what it tells us. And file a damned report on the incident, Nate.”

  She didn’t tell him to pull his head out of his ass. He was beating himself up enough already. Even so, she wanted to shake him—or pound his head against the wall. He should have realized there might be a connection between what happened to his car and Mac’s shooting and he hadn’t. He was a better detective than that. Still, she understood. News of Mac’s shooting had shaken him, just as it had the res
t of them.

  He nodded and sent a quick text to someone. Then he returned to the table and closed his eyes. She gave him a moment to pull himself together. The squad needed him – Mac needed him – thinking clearly and calmly. If he couldn’t do that, she’d send him back to the station and make sure Pat put him on desk duty for the duration.

  “Pull it together, Nate, and tell me what you’ve found so far.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. She knew his answer before he spoke.

  “Nothing. Not one fucking thing.” Once again, his fist beat against the tabletop once, twice. Then he pushed off and stepped away. “The techs are already working on the video feed from her security system. They should have something for us before long. Other than that, nothing solid. No physical evidence that we’ve found so far. So either the shooter policed his brass or he used a revolver.

  “None of the neighbors we’ve interviewed saw anything useful. A number of them heard the shots and ran outside in time to see the van you described driving off. They couldn’t see inside because the dark tint on the windows. Tanaka is getting consent forms signed for any video feeds the neighbors might have that could help us. We’ll get search warrants as needed.”

  “All right.” She thought for a moment. “Did you hit on anything that might indicate the shooter wasn’t a normal?”

  He shook his head. “No, not that it means much. The morning’s been windy and I didn’t reach the house until half an hour after the shooting.” He blew out a long, shaky breath. “Damn it, I should have called her, warned her something might be wrong.”

  He should have, just as Mac should have checked the video feed before opening the door. But should haves didn’t help their friend, not now.

  “Put it behind you, Nate. If you can’t, tell me now.” She waited, watching closely as he considered not only what she said but its implications.

  Back stiff, shoulders straight, he all but stood at attention before responding. “I can do it.” He didn’t add the “Ma’am” but he might as well have. It was enough, however, to have her nod once in satisfaction.

  “Just so you know, I contacted General Flynn. He is putting both our squad and Mateo’s on stand-by.”

  Norwood nodded this time, his expression grim. “Good.”

  “But we are holding off calling them in for the moment. Without more of reason to believe Mac being a shifter has something to do with why she was attacked, we need to keep this in-house. However, I won’t hesitate to bring in one or both squads if anything points to that being the case.” Of course, she had no doubt Flynn, not to mention Mateo, would be in town before the end of the day.

  For a moment, Jael considered her options. If the general officially requested she act as liaison between DPD and his command, she wouldn’t have to worry about following the rules as she tracked down the shooter. Better yet, she’d have more resources available to find and deal with the bastard who shot Mac.

  Tempting as it was, she knew better. If Homeland Security, the cover for Flynn’s command, suddenly stepped in to take over the investigation, people would start asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Nothing so far indicated this was anything more than a random shooting or, more likely, revenge for an arrest Mac made some time in the past. There was no grand conspiracy that could be used to explain away why the Feds had been called in.

  More than that, she knew Mac wouldn’t thank her for bringing in Flynn and the others. Mac was a cop, one of the best Jael knew, all the way down to her bones and she expected those who worked with her to be the same. Any other day, Jael would agree with her. Hell, she’d taught Mac how important that was. But today, after seeing her bleeding out on the floor of the entry hall, all Jael wanted was vengeance and that meant she needed to do as she’d told Norwood.

  She needed to get her emotions under control.

  “C’mon, Nate, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go find the bastard who shot our captain.”

  She tossed him the keys to the sedan and left the house. The sooner they found the perp, the better.

  8

  Pat read Jael’s text message and closed her eyes. At least that answered one question. Unfortunately, it spawned at least half a dozen more. While she’d never really considered the possibility of Norwood being involved in Mac’s shooting, the question had to be asked, especially since he hadn’t reported in. Jael seemed satisfied he wasn’t. Even so, Pat would have her own discussion with the detective before the end of shift. Involved or not, he should have reported in instead of simply striking out on his own.

  She sent a reply, telling Jael to take what time she needed at Mac’s to talk with Tanaka and others working the case. They needed to know everything was being done to save their captain. Conversely, she needed to make sure the investigators didn’t miss anything. Maybe by the time Jael stopped by the station on her way to the hospital the techs would have pulled something off the security feeds from either Mac’s house or some of the neighbors. Surely one of the cameras had gotten a good look at either the shooter or his van.

  “LT.”

  Pat slid her phone into her pocket and looked up. Officer Murray stood in the doorway of the waiting room that had been set aside for Mac’s family and the members of the DPD staying with them. Murray nodded down the hall, indicating someone was approaching. Judging from the direction of her nod, Pat assumed it was one of the doctors who had been treating Mac. A quick glance at her watch showed almost five hours had passed since the Office Down call came in. Hoping for the best, Pat closed her eyes and offered up a quick prayer. Then she stood and moved to Murray’s side.

  She watched as Dr. Patek neared. He wore a fresh pair of scrubs. What worried her was the strain around his eyes. Seeing her, he nodded once, his expression grim. What that might mean, she didn’t dare guess. Instead, she nodded in return before turning and hurrying to where Jackson sat between Mac’s mother and grandmother, his hands in theirs.

  “Dr. Patek’s coming,” she said softly.

  They stood and waited, their fear easy to see. Every cop and, until then, Pat hadn’t realized just how many remained, also stood. They formed a protective semi-circle around the three, ready to do whatever they could to help. Silence hung heavily in the air as the surgeon stepped inside.

  “Dr. Patek,” Ellen Santos, Mac’s grandmother, said as he joined them. “How is she?”

  “I’m not going to lie. Captain Santos is gravely injured. She survived the surgery, but it was touch-and-go more than once. We’re doing everything we can for her, but she lost a great deal of blood and suffered a number of internal injuries.” He glanced around, as if seeing the wall of cops for the first time. “I know she’s one of yours. But, right now, she’s mine and I am going to do everything I can to save her. For now, I need everyone except the captain’s immediate family and Lt. King to step out. Please.”

  Before any of the cops could protest, Marie Duncan stepped forward and simply motioned to the door. One corner of Pat’s mouth lifted in a wry smile as they obeyed the woman. Marie might not wear the uniform, but there were few in the department who didn’t know who she was and who didn’t respect her for all she did. Then, as Marie followed them out, Pat turned her attention back to Patek. She could think of several reasons why he wanted to speak with them privately and none of them reassured her. At least he wasn’t trying to keep her out of the conversation. Hopefully, that meant he had at least something bordering on good news.

  Patek waited until Marie closed the door behind her. Then he moved as far from the doorway as he could. As he did, he motioned for everyone to be seated. Jackson moved like a man barely functioning, exhaustion and fear lining his face. Mac’s mother, Elizabeth, clung to his hand as if it was her only lifeline. Ellen remained standing, her expression closed but her fear alive in her eyes. Pat crossed to her and eased her into a chair at Jackson’s side. Then she turned her attention to the surgeon.

  “What I didn’t tell the others is that the only reason Mac�
��s still alive is because of what she is and that might not be enough. But my team is doing everything it can to keep her stabilized until her shifter genes can start healing her. That means there is hope. It’s not much, Jackson. But I can tell you this: if you and Jael had waited for the ambulance instead of bringing Mac straight to the hospital, she wouldn’t have survived.”

  “H-how bad?” Jackson looked at him, eyes filled with tears.

  “If she were a normal, I’d be telling you to start making arrangements.” Patek rubbed a hand over his face, his exhaustion clear. “Luck was on her side today. The vest stopped the bullet that would have shattered her spine. The bullet that struck her in the neck missed the carotid artery. Her shoulder will require time and rehab but even it could have been worse. I am, however, worried about the fourth bullet. It hit two of her ribs, fracturing them, before penetrating her lung. Bullet fragments and pieces of bone nicked the pericardial sac.

  “As for the bullet that struck her vest. As best I can tell, it was fired after she fell. It struck her mid-back. My guess is it was supposed to be the kill shot. At such close range, her back is badly bruised and there is swelling to her spinal cord in the area of impact. I don’t believe there will be long term damage, but we will have to wait and see. In the meantime, it shouldn’t be too long before she’s taken to her room. Instructions have been given to make sure she is placed in the security wing.”

  Pat nodded. She and the others who had been kidnapped in Cassandra Wilkinson’s abortive attempt to exert complete control over their kind had been treated in that wing before being moved to a safe house to complete their recoveries. Now it offered their best chance at not only making sure no one without authorization gained access to Mac. It also gave Mac the privacy she needed if Patek and the others treating her thought she should shift. However, judging from the seriousness of her injuries, Pat suspected that would not be happening any time soon.

  “I’ll need your written report, doctor, as well as Mac’s belongings and the bullet fragments,” Pat said.