Guilty by Association (Judah Black Novels)

by E. A. Copen

  I frowned. “He ordered his lackeys to write me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars,” I said and then glanced over at Father Reed. “What is he trying to bribe me for?”

  Reed directed his gaze out the window. “I need to feed my cat.”

  * * * * *

  I dropped Reed off at the church so that he could retrieve his car. I'd wanted to hit the ground running and get everything done in one fell swoop but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Reed insisted he was fine enough to drive and that he needed to get home to feed his cat so I made the drive home alone, watching the sun come up over another sleepless night.

  As I drove, I thought about my last job. Cleveland hadn't seemed like much of an improvement over Philly but it sure as hell seemed cushy now. The station there had a bunkhouse where dead tired cops could go and pass out for an hour or two without having to drag their work weary selves home. I used to crash on those bunks all the time. All it took was a call to my neighbor who'd come in and check on Hunter and I could get a power nap. The local cops didn't care one way or the other about me being there and using their facilities. Here, I couldn't walk through the front door of the station without feeling like I had to justify myself. Now, I had to drive all the way out to the edge of the rez for a little shut eye. I couldn't even sleep in the truck because the damn desert sun would burn me alive. What I wouldn't give for one of those crappy cots right about now...

  I started awake and tried to swerve back into the right lane only to see the white Jag blocking the roadway. Panic caused me to over-correct, jerking the steering wheel suddenly and slamming my foot down on the brake without down shifting. The engine stalled out and I drifted off into the desert at thirty miles an hour, powerless to do anything but steer myself to a descent stop, which I somehow managed to do without wrecking.

  Still shaking, I gripped the steering wheel tight and rested my head against it, trying to get reason to overcome adrenaline. That could have been bad, I thought. Really bad. I was exhausted, too exhausted to be behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. I needed sleep but that was going to have to wait.

  I adjusted my rear view mirror to see Andre LeDuc strolling through the desert after me. Shit. I adjusted the gear back into neutral and tried to start her back up. The engine coughed but refused to turn over. “Come on,” I whispered. My prayer came out in white wisps of cloudy breath and I shivered. Something was wrong. It was mid-July in Texas. There was no way it was cold. Yet frost slowly crept up the outside of the truck windows and the inside dropped a fully forty or fifty degrees in the space of a minute. I gave up on the idea of starting the truck back up in favor of trying to get out but the extreme temperature change had made my muscles stiff and slow to respond. The inside door handles were covered in an inch of ice by the time I managed to find one, my teeth chattering.

  Andre LeDuc walked up to stand on the other side of the driver's side window and looked in at me with an unnatural coolness in his eyes. He surveyed the truck with feigned interest while I hugged my body tight and tried to regulate my breathing. It had to be below freezing inside the truck now and the temperature was continuing to drop. If it didn't let up soon, I'd be the first woman to freeze to death on a ninety-degree day.

  “Agent Black,” said LeDuc, his voice muffled by a layer of ice covered glass. “Ever the curious cat, aren't we? But you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”

  “L-l-leDuc,” I stammered. “You...” I wanted to say something else but I'd lost all the feeling in my nose, lips and fingers.

  “Don't strain yourself,” he mused.

  LeDuc stretched out one little finger and placed it lightly on the outside of the glass. Either because of the difference in temperatures or because of something unseen that LeDuc did, the window exploded inward or I was showered with a thousand tiny bits of safety glass. The desert heat flooded in and I choked out a breath. LeDuc casually reached in through the broken window, unlocked my door and then opened it from the outside. He gripped my seat belt and tore it away from me as if it were made of paper and then pulled me out with both hands, dumping me in the sand. The temperature change was too sudden for me to adjust. Pain welled up in my chest and my heart skipped a beat. My head spun. LeDuc's little trick had rendered me absolutely helpless until the shock wore off.

  He smiled down at me while I rocked back and forth in pain and then grabbed the back of my shirt. Sand and dirt scraped against my back as he dragged me back toward the road.

  The passenger side door to his Jaguar creaked as he opened it. “You and I are due for a talk, Black,” he said smugly and shoved me inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sometimes, I wish I was a vigilante superhero instead of a law enforcement officer. Things would be so much easier. I wouldn't have to worry about the burden of proof or answering to my superiors. There wouldn't be any paperwork if I somehow found myself recovering from shock, speeding along at forty miles an hour next to the man I was sure had taken three children and had a hand in murdering three adults. Those were just the ones I knew about. Someone like Andre Leduc, he seemed like the kind of guy who left a trail of bodies behind him wherever he went.

  I managed to relax enough that I could sit up in the car and look out the window. We were driving around the perimeter of the reservation on a series of streets I'd never been on before. The trailers and hastily constructed houses fell in a haphazard pattern, all grouped close enough together that a good spark would have sent the whole neighborhood up in flames.

  “Life used to be so simple,” Andre said suddenly. He had a thoughtful but pleased with himself kind of look on his face. “Once, people actively worked to make the world a better place. Mankind was generally a progressive race, always seeking out new ways to change the world for the better. It's why humanity developed that big brain. Progress. That's what America is built on.”

  “You're Canadian,” I pointed out.

  LeDuc chuckled. “But you're not. You must understand that progress comes at a price.”

  “If that price includes innocent children then you can keep your progress.”

  He shot me a warning glance that turned into a smile, making me shiver all over again. “Did you know the most widely used technique in western medicine to save hypothermia victims was developed by Nazi scientists?” he said matter-of-factly. “In fact, almost all of our advancements in medical science came about because of some kind of war time atrocity. Human experimentation, while extremely controversial and ethically charged, is still used today in most fields. Scientists and doctors just don't talk about it. We don't like to admit that medicine and science kills more people than it saves.”

  “Is that an admission?” I asked turning to face him.

  “It's fact. The rate of MRSA is highest in hospitals and the percentage of patients who die in surgery, even routine surgery, is staggering. The United States has one of the highest infant mortality rates of any developed country in the world, despite the fact that we know why and how to change that. And those are just the human problems. The werewolves, the vampires and the fae have it even worse. Seven out of ten adolescent werewolves today attempt suicide. Over half of them succeed. Medical science has yet to fully explore the biology of most fae and a large amount of vampires actually die of acute but preventable organ failure.” He pursed his lips. “We have all the ingredients for a healthcare revolution at our fingertips and yet we squander it on developing generic Viagra and new weight loss procedures. And why? Because the human urge to consume now outweighs their desire to survive. They've become cattle. They are born. They breed. They die. There is no purpose for them beyond that. They have become less than human.”

  “What about the families of Paint Rock?” I asked and gestured to the houses we were passing by. “Most of them aren't human.”

  “Most of them accept their fate,” Andre snarled, his upper lip curling. “It's a psychological condition called learned helplessness and your organization foster
s it with unmatched ferocity. This social experiment that is Paint Rock, it cannot be allowed to stand. Those that wish to stand with the humans, let them stand and let them fall. No one should be forced to fight for something he doesn't believe in.”

  “That sounds like revolution talk,” I told him and watched his expression harden. “Like treason.”

  “If I were American, perhaps. But I answer to a higher authority. When I became a physician, I swore an oath to use my knowledge to save people's lives.”

  “Like you saved Elias Garcia and Donald and Teagan Summers?”

  I expected him to deny the claim but Andre simply lifted his head an inch or two and directed his car back onto the main road. “Sometimes a few must be sacrificed in pursuit of the greater good.”

  At that moment, I knew Andre LeDuc was a self-obsessed, idealistic madman. Whatever good he thought he was doing had become more than a mission for him. It was the reason for every breath he drew and he would stop at nothing to see his dream realized. He had ambition. From another point of view, I supposed, some might see him as a hero instead of a raving lunatic. It all just depended on which side of the crazy you stood on.

  I let the silence drone on for a few minutes, trying to guess where he was taking me. So far, we'd only driven around in circles, touring the town. Maybe he was looking for a secluded place to kill me. No, I thought. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already. He could have done that while I was still trapped in the truck. This is about something else.

  “Okay, LeDuc,” I said, throwing my hands up weakly in a gesture of surrender. “You're obviously not going to kill me or you would have done it already. What is this all about?”

  “This is where you get off,” he said, though he obviously didn't mean it in the literal sense. “No more investigating the Garcia murder. No more looking for the missing children. I will deliver you safely home after which you will pick up your phone, call your home office and immediately resign your position. Tomorrow morning, you will call a moving truck in which you will place all of your possessions and you will leave Paint Rock never to return.”

  “You've got to be joking,” I said, though by the looks of him, Andre was dead serious.

  “This is a one-time only offer,” he replied. “Any deviation from the plan I just outlined will greatly reduce my ability to guarantee that you and your son won't be harmed.”

  I thought about his offer. Honestly, it was a good one. If I kept down the road I was on, chances were good that I could get killed. I'd already placed Hunter in the line of fire since LeDuc knew where I lived. Donald and Teagan Summers had paid the price for my persistence already. How much more blood did I want to have on my hands? I could do what he said and leave now. That was the only way to guarantee that Hunter and I would be safe.

  The cost of our safety, however, would come at a great many more lives. LeDuc and his band of thugs would be free to continue to terrorize the families of Paint Rock. Sal would go away for two murders he didn't commit and the Garcias would never know what happened to their son. Hunter and I would be safe, though, and far away from there. We wouldn't have to think about the mess in Paint Rock ever again and I could be free of the restraints BSI put on me. I could try to live a normal life. That was, until Hunter started to change.

  LeDuc pulled into my driveway and put his car in park. “Here we are,” he said. “Safely delivered, as promised. Now, I have your word that you'll be out by tomorrow, yes?”

  I narrowed my eyes at LeDuc. “I know what you are,” I lied. “And I know what you did. I'm not leaving Paint Rock until one of us is dead.”

  Andre's smile turned into a scowl. He didn't move but the locks clicked closed and his eyes took on that same, cool glow I'd seen when he froze up the truck. “Oh,” said LeDuc and then gave a low laugh that vibrated the glass in the windows. “I don't think you have any idea who or what I am, Agent Black. In fact, what you know about this town and the supernaturals in it couldn't fill a teacup. You're walking on dangerously shaky ground. Take care that your friends and family don't pay the price for your poor footing.”

  The locks on the door clicked open. I pressed the release on my seat belt and pulled on the door handle simultaneously and somehow managed to fall out of the car. LeDuc lifted a hand and the door swung closed of its own accord. I stood and managed a few shaky steps backward before he got the window down. “And I really would appreciate it, agent, if you kept this conversation between us. I find there's nothing more unbecoming of a woman than a wagging tongue.”

  Andre smiled, rolled the window up and tore out of my driveway, his back tires spitting desert sand all over me.

  Initially, I'd resolved to sleep as soon as I got home. I'd been so exhausted before that I had fallen asleep while driving, something I almost never do. After my encounter with LeDuc, there was no way I could sleep. I had work to do.

  I tried again to dig up something on LeDuc but failed miserably so I decided to call the station and see if Quincy had made any progress with the footage and the Jag's plates. I tried the station but got a busy signal. I was turning my cell phone over in my hands, debating whether or not to call Tindall, when my phone rang. “I guess my mind's made up,” I said frowning down at Chanter's number dancing across the screen. “Black.”

  “You need to be here,” Chanter said shortly. There was some kind of noise in the background. Whatever it was, it was loud enough that I could barely hear him.

  “Yeah, about that. See, there was a bit of a problem with the truck and I can't—”

  “Ed will meet you in the Prius,” Chanter said impatiently. “If you have anything that belonged to the boy's father, I suggest you bring it.”

  I started to ask if Hunter was okay but the line went dead before I could get the words out. If you have to ask, then you already know the answer, I thought and dialed Tindall's cell. It went straight to his voice mail which meant he either had the damn thing off or the bastard was screening his calls. “Detective, Black here. I just wanted to check in, see how Sal was doing in lockup and to check on that footage Quincy's looking over for me. I'm chasing another lead and can't get down there but, when you have a second, ring me back. I have another suspect but I don't want you to move on him, not yet. Not until we know where the kids are.”

  I hung up and tore through the house looking for something, anything of Alex's I'd kept. After he died, I sold almost everything he owned to pay for the funeral since we didn't have any life insurance and I still had to take out a personal loan. The only thing I'd kept was the simple, gold wedding band. I should have sold it years ago. It was just a thing but it was a thing that was his. It was all I had. I finally found it in the bottom of a shoe box and tucked it into my pocket.

  Outside, someone hit a car horn. I pulled apart the blinds just in time to see a blue Prius roll into my driveway. The front passenger side door opened and Ed stepped out. Daphne remained behind the wheel, leaving the car running.

  Ed blinked twice at me when I opened the door before he knocked. “What’s happening?”

  Ed's eyebrows drew up. “I think you'd better see for yourself. Chanter told me not to get you upset.”

  “I'm already upset,” I grumbled and went out, locking the door behind me. I took the front seat and crossed my arms. “If anything happens to my son...”

  “You're sitting in a car with two werewolves,” said Daphne as Ed climbed in. “If I were you, I'd think twice before threatening their alpha.” She turned to me. “If you'd known the truth about your late husband, would you have loved him?”

  “Excuse me?” Daphne didn't answer me. She just turned back to the wheel. “That's a damn personal question.”

  “It's hard to love something you're afraid of,” she said quietly. “I just want you to understand before you see it. Whoever said love conquers all was full of crap. There are places even a mother's love doesn't go. I need to know before I take you out there how you really feel about us. I've
seen one too many mothers, fathers and brothers turn and run, never to be heard from again. Make no mistake, Ms. Black. Harsh words cut deeper than the sharpest knife. I won't let you hurt him.”

  My mouth fell open. How could she insinuate that I would ever say or do anything to hurt my own son? But I didn't know what I was walking into, what I would see. And I didn't know if any shred of Hunter would still be left once he Changed. Even if he regained his human form, it was entirely possible that he would want nothing more to do with me or BSI. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened. I didn't want him to have to choose between who he was and who I wanted him to be.

  I settled further into my seat and stared straight ahead. “Maybe love isn't blind,” I said. “But it is stupid. Alex was a hard person to love. The way I see it, if I could look past all the boozing, fighting and random disappearing acts he'd pull, what's a little fur on the full moon? So long as Hunter keeps his grades up and doesn't get into fights with anyone who doesn't deserve it, my biggest problem with him is going to be getting him to put the toilet seat down and do his homework.”

  Daphne cracked a smile. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” she said and hit the gas.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A half hour later, we pulled into Chanter's driveway and I was out of the car before it even came to a full stop. Shauna, who was sitting on the front porch, stood when I came barreling up the stairs and stepped between me and the door. She had scratches on her cheek that had yet to see any cleaning or a bandage and her head was a mess of sweat and dark stains. Normally, I would have yelled at her to get out of my way but the condition she was in... It made me think something terrible had happened there.

  “How is he?” I asked. I just wished I knew what I was asking about.