by Angela Foxxe
“Who was that?”
“Oh, it was just my friend Keith. He was telling me about some possible TV appearances that I might have booked within the next month or so.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting.”
“It’s not. Right now, it’s just a possibility. Stuff like that falls through all the time,” John said.
He hated lying to Heather. It made him feel sick inside. But he felt right then that it was the best choice. He would probably tell her about it after he cleared his name and made sure that he was not a suspect at all. The more he wracked his guts about it and dwelled on it, the more likely he became tough.
He hoped he could calm down sometime in the next seven hours.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“So, do you know why you’re here?” Detective Peterson asked.
He was sitting across from John in the interrogation room. John found it odd that they were doing the questioning there. He imagined that if they were just doing some preliminary basic questioning, as they would probably do with several people, then it would have been a much more casual affair. Detectives Peters and Wentz were both acting anything but casual. John was trying to decide if one of them was going to be the good cop and the other one the bad cop, but so far, they both seemed pretty neutral. It was really kind of creepy.
“Well, as you explained on the phone, you had some questions for me relating to Michelle’s murder. I’m not sure what kind of questions you might have, so I guess I don’t know why I’m really here.”
Shit. Stupid. Why the hell did he say it like that? That sounded incriminating as hell. Relax, John. Relax.
“You were the last person to see Michelle Patton alive,” Wentz said. He lit up a cigarette and took a nice, slow drag. His eyes never left John’s gaze. Was that supposed to be intimidating? It seemed cheesy to him.
“How do you know that? I haven’t seen her in almost two days.”
“Well, we checked around, and we determined that she didn’t really see anyone else. She was staying in a hotel a few blocks from here. None of her neighbors or the hotel staff saw her out of the room. She appeared to be working on her laptop the few times that the maids came in to clean the rooms.”
“Okay, well, that doesn’t mean that she never left. It’s possible that she just wasn’t seen. I mean, is she instantly recognizable to most people? I don’t think so. She was a high-profile journalist, but that level of fame only goes so far. It’s quite plausible that she wasn’t noticed. Except by the wrong person,” John said. He took a slow, deep breath. He had tried to pace his words, but he had forgotten to breathe, so by the end, his words had sounded shaky and strange.
“True, very true. But we have actual video surveillance evidence of you and her having what appears to be a heated exchange when she left your hotel room late the other night.”
The damn hotel surveillance. He knew it.
“Okay,” John said. He wasn’t sure what to say here.
“Okay? Well, how about you tell us what you two were arguing about and why she was at your place so late?” Peterson asked.
“She has been trying to do a piece about me for her magazine. She wanted to make it more than professional, and I turned her down.”
“You turned her down?” Peterson asked.
“Yes.”
“That seems a bit strange. You’re a swinging single football star with more money than God would know what to do with, and you’re turning down a beautiful woman like that who wants you in bed?” Peterson asked.
“Michelle wasn’t my type.”
“A woman like that is every red-blooded American straight man’s type,” Wentz said with a laugh.
“Of course she was beautiful and sexy. But if you’d ever met her, you would understand why I didn’t want to get involved with her. She was controlling, manipulative, deceitful, and would do anything to make someone look bad. It’s not wise to sleep with every attractive woman who will sleep with you. Some are bat-shit crazy.”
“True that. I’m glad you have figured that out at an early age. I was finished with my second divorce before I learned that lesson,” Peterson joked.
John didn’t laugh. He was growing tired of these men and their disarming techniques. He could see right through them, and he wished they would get on with the ambush so he could get out of here.
“So, Michelle was a difficult person to know. I can understand that. So she came over to entice you into something, you said ‘no thanks,’ and she became angry.”
“Basically. This wasn’t the first time that I’d told her no. She actually followed me here to Cincinnati and then came to my hotel at that hour. She wanted me to reconsider, and she threatened to write a bad story about me.”
“That must have made you pretty angry. She threatened to destroy your reputation?”
“She did, but it didn’t make me that angry. I was mostly annoyed that she woke me up at that late hour to bother me with such nonsense. Being a celebrity, you learn to accept the good with the bad. Some people are going to say bad things about you for a variety of reasons. You can’t let them get to you, and if you use the job just for fame, then you’re going to end up a broken man. You have to love what you do. The fame is really just an annoying perk of the job. I’m really tired of that aspect of it.”
“Yeah, I can see how you’d get tired of millions of dollars and the hottest women on the planet dropping their panties at the mere sight of you,” Wentz joked.
“Be careful what you wish for… that’s a very true statement. It sounds like a great fantasy and it is for a while, but too much of a good thing is an awful thing. The pleasure doesn’t last forever. It quickly becomes a nuisance.”
“Then why not take your money and run? Just hide out somewhere and live like a hermit for a few years until it all goes away?” Peterson asked.
“Because I’m a football player. I play football. It’s what I do.”
“Fair enough. I guess that’s why we do the cop thing. So we’d better get back to that,” Wentz said. “So, after Michelle left your place, you didn’t leave your hotel room?”
“No. I stayed up for a while and had a few drinks to calm down. Then I went to bed. The camera should confirm that.”
“Well, there’s no camera actually in the rooms. That wouldn’t be legal.”
“But the camera is in the hallway, and it should confirm that I didn’t leave all night,” John said, feeling irritated. It felt like he was being asked the same questions fifty times in a row from all different angles.
“Yeah, we checked all that. You didn’t come out of that room all night,” Wentz said. “At least, not through the door.”
“Well, how else would I get out of there? I mean, you guys are acting like you think I had something to do with Michelle’s murder.”
John hoped he wasn’t laying the dumb act on too thick, but he had to just play it out and see what happened. He wondered how Keith would have handled this. Should Keith have been there, since he was John’s agent and lawyer? No, it would just make him seem guiltier. People who were afraid or who had something to hide got a lawyer really quickly. That wasn’t him. He was innocent, and he wasn’t going to let these two middle-aged chumps who had worked their whole lives to become police detectives who barely cracked forty grand a year and were a dime a dozen in every city in the world mess with him. He was going to stand his ground and remain unrattled.
“Well, did you?” Wentz asked.
John glared at him and rolled his eyes over to Peterson. “So, that’s what this is about? I thought it was just some routine questions. You guys are grasping at thin air, hoping to make a bust, and you figured that this would be the high-profile case you’ve been waiting for your whole lives to get. Is that about it? Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not your man.”
Wentz began to clap as if giving John a mock ovation.
John ignored him.
“You see, if something smells like a rat, then it is probably a rat coo
king in the crockpot,” Peterson said. “We think this one stinks pretty good.”
“The news has been reporting that Michelle was attacked by some sort of an animal. Maybe a bear or maybe a crazed pit bull that escaped,” John said.
“Yeah, they love to sensationalize things. But the thing is that our forensics team found saliva in some of the wounds. It’s human saliva.”
“You are trying to tell me that a human ripped her apart that way with their nails and teeth?” John asked.
“Well, it’s tough to say. We are still in the early throes of the investigation.”
“I hate that you’re wasting your time. Do you have any other questions? I’ve got things to do.”
“Well, suppose we have a lot more questions. And suppose we just keep you here until we’re done,” Peterson said.
“Am I being charged with anything?”
“No, not yet.”
“Then I’m free to go,” John replied.
He stood up and walked out the door.
“Enjoy your freedom, Mr. Football Star,” Peterson said as John walked out the door. John turned and glared at him.
“Oh, John?” Peterson asked.
John stopped mid-step.
“There was some DNA evidence on the victim. A hair fiber as well as the saliva. If it matches you, then we going to throw the book at you, and you will never see the light of day again.”
John walked away.
CHAPTER NINE
“Okay, that sounds good. Job well done,” Keith said.
John had called him right after he left the meeting with the detectives. He was driving out of the city, heading toward Lewisburg. He’d told Heather that he had some things in town that he had to take care of, and he had to meet his agent. It was a weak lie and he hated to say it, but right now, keeping her safe and keeping what they had started up again between the two of them together was the most important thing to him. For some reason, he felt a bit selfish about it, but he tried to put that in the back of his mind. He really felt that he had a good reason to keep Heather in the dark about all of this. He just hoped that the news didn’t somehow get ahold of the information. He was willing to bet that that pig cop Peterson would love to leak this to the press.
He told Keith the whole story and what he was thinking. Keith agreed it was all for the best right now.
“I’m just waiting for the huge tornado of crap to come flying my way about this. I’m just bracing for impact at this point,” John said.
“Yeah, that’s all you can do right now, man. Are you sure you don’t want me to come out there? How long are you staying in Cincinnati anyway?” Keith asked.
“I’m not sure. Everything is going so well with Heather that I just don’t want to leave,” John replied. “But with this shit storm, I might just get the hell out of dodge.”
“No, don’t do that. It’s only going to make you look guilty. Besides, if the cops get any stupid thing, they can hold you there. And if you run from that, you will be in a big world of bad.”
“Great. What could they possibly find? I’m innocent. You do believe I’m innocent, right?” John asked.
“Of course. But you never know with stuff like this. And it seems that these guys are really looking to pin it all on you so they can close the books. Just like you said, they’re looking for a big high-profile case like this.”
“So, what should I do? You’re my legal advisor—advise me on something.”
“I already did; the best thing is to continue on with things as normal and stay put. I’ll hop on a flight and come out to meet you. I can be there tomorrow morning if I can catch a red eye to Cincinnati.”
“You don’t have to do that,” John said.
“I want to; it’s the least I can do. You’re my best friend, right?” Keith said.
“Always,” John replied. Keith was the type of friend most people would never really find. He felt more like a close brother most of the time. John could not imagine his life without his best friend around. It would be comforting to know that he was there.
“Okay, buddy. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” John said.
“Peace,” Keith replied and the line went dead, leaving John alone with his thoughts.
It was a long two-hour drive out to Lewisburg with only his thoughts and the radio.
***
When John arrived at Heather’s, it was a bit after six, and the last rays of light had just given way to the shining moon against a dark sky above. The moon was only a crescent, but he had rarely seen it shining more brightly. If only it had been full, it would have been so beautiful.
Or at least it would until he turned into a bloodthirsty monster without any conscious thought or human emotion behind him. That would have put a damper on things.
He had talked to Heather briefly on the phone when he was about an hour away before he’d lost cell signal for a little while, and she’d told him her dad was actually going out for the evening with a widow friend of his. John was surprised. Her dad had himself a girlfriend. Of course, her dad would never call it that, but Heather was happy for him. It had been such a rough time with him being sick, but he was feeling better. He had met the widow at church, and then they’d started going to bingo regularly. Tonight was their bingo night, and they never missed it.
John was glad to know that they would have that big, empty farmhouse all to themselves for a bit. He was already thinking about how they could branch out and maybe do some crazy, fun things in every room of the house, except her dad’s room; that would be weird, even for him.
He smiled to himself as he stepped out of the car into the mild October night. The sky was clear and dark. He used to amuse himself for hours, lying on the roof looking up at the moon and the stars, amazed at how many other galaxies and solar systems there were in the world. He wondered how many other lifeforms there might be waiting to be discovered and if he would be alive when we finally discovered them.
With the curse thrust upon him, he had started to consider that it might indeed be a real possibility that he might be alive then. As far as he knew, he was all but invincible. From everything he read, the one thing that would kill a werewolf was silver, but werewolves were considered urban legends, and who knew if any of that was based on fact? He had never met another shifter, and he wasn’t sure how he would test these theories. Hopefully, no one ever tested them on him.
He wondered what Heather would be wearing when he walked through the door. Was she already anticipating a fun-filled night of naked fun, or would she be dressed to go out somewhere? He would prefer to stay in and relax, but if she wanted to go somewhere and have some fun, then he was all for that, too. As long as she was by his side and he got to stare into her beautiful eyes all night, then he was going to be a happy man.
He was just starting up onto the porch when he heard the bloodcurdling scream coming from upstairs. His blood froze cold in his veins as his mind quickly processed what he was hearing. It was Heather. She was in trouble.
John opened the door and was up the stairs and bursting through her bedroom door, shattering it off the hinges, within a span of two seconds. He was already starting to shift, and he could feel the frenzy of adrenaline and animal instincts coursing through his body. He wanted to calm down and keep it together, but if Heather was really in trouble, then he had to get to her, and he had to make sure she was okay.
His eyes refused to believe what was in front of them. He froze still for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts, which were becoming increasingly muddled as he tried to keep the wolf at bay. But he no longer wanted to do this. He needed the wolf more than he ever had before. He had to change fast.
Heather was being pinned against the wall behind her bed, her face contorted with fear and total panic as tears streamed down her face. She was curling into a ball, trying to hug and comfort herself.
Sitting in front of her, inching slowly toward her, was a werewolf. It was about the same size John was, and it was completel
y transformed. Its eyes were a bright red, removing any remains of the human person it was most of the time. Its teeth were at least three inches long, resembling long tusks like a saber tooth cat, ready to rip flesh from bone with the greatest of ease.
The wolf was rearing back its claws, ready to swipe a deadly blow across Heather’s chest. It barely even registered that John was there, only mildly glancing out of the corner of its eye socket.
John was there in a flash, blocking the blow and retaliating with a heavy swipe of his huge paw that was now more wolf than man. He was starting to black out as the beast overtook him. He could not let that happen; if it did, he would have no control over what he did. Hell, he might have made a snack out of Heather himself, and he would have no recollection of it in the morning.
He had to keep it at this level. He was about as fully transformed as he could be while still maintaining his mental faculties. He had to concentrate on his feelings for Heather. She was all that mattered. He had to make sure she was safe and do whatever it took to protect her. He knew right then that he would gladly lay down his life for this woman.
The wolf landed on its back with a ferocious howl as it bounced off the floor and quickly leapt to its feet. Then, in a flash, it was lunging toward John. He went low, angling below its attack, and swept its feet out from under it. The wolf flipped backward as he rolled on top of it. The wolf was strong, but John thought he felt himself being a bit stronger. Maybe retaining a bit of the control needed to avoid a full shift actually helped his strength a bit. He was able to harness the power more effectively.
The other wolf howled in rage as it bucked its hips and flipped him over it. John crashed into the wall hard. He felt the pain only momentarily, and then he was overcome with total rage, ready to rip this creature limb from limb as it continued its trek toward Heather, who was now in a full panic that was far beyond what John had ever witnessed from anyone.
