by Mary Lindsey
“What are you doing here, Klaus?” Charles Ericksen asked.
“I was notified that something was up.”
“Ulrich and I have it under control.”
“Sure you do.” The man’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “Like always, you do.”
Charles scanned the group. “Who else did you tell, Burkhart?”
“I only called you and the chief,” Ulrich said.
“You should have called me, too. I’m pack security. My son sent me a text. It was the right thing to do. He’s protecting the pack.”
All eyes swung to Thomas. Rain looked from the man to his son. The family resemblance was obvious. From the look on Klaus’s face as he glared at Ulrich, it was clear there was no love there.
The lock on the door made some clicking sounds as it was unlocked from the outside, then the door swung open with a bang and Chief Wanda Richter strolled in, eyes scanning the room, pausing on Rain for a moment, and ending on the blue plastic drum he was guarding.
“Who has touched the barrel?” the chief asked, putting her keys in her pocket.
“Only me,” Rain said. “I was moving them to make room for the new ones. This one was obviously not empty, so I opened it.”
“Tell us what’s inside,” Charles Ericksen said, wiping his glasses on a handkerchief.
“Something in garbage bags, sealed up with duct tape. The shape is human.”
“We need to open it,” Thomas’s dad said.
“What if it’s not one of us?” Freddie’s voice was flat and harsh. “Then what? We cover up another murder? It will be a lot harder with an outsider than it was with my dad, don’t you think?”
Gooseflesh rose on Rain’s arms. She was testing the adults the same way he’d tested the kids. Hell, here she’d been warning him about playing it safe, and she brought on the nuclear option right out of the chute. He held his breath in the stunned silence that followed, watching their faces for reactions. Then, Thomas’s dad shouted, “You stupid little girl!”
Merrick grabbed Freddie before she lunged.
“Watch your mouth, Klaus,” Ulrich warned. “She’s going to be your boss any day now.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Or my dad’s!” Freddie shouted.
Rain’s chest constricted at the sound of her voice. Anguish had a sound all its own. He’d heard it many times in his life. Sometimes from his own mouth. Freddie had hit her limit.
The four adults exchanged wary glances, but none even attempted to contradict the murder accusation.
“You’re right about the ramifications if what’s in the barrel is human, Friederike,” Ulrich said. “If it’s not one of our own, it could be complicated. That’s why I texted Wanda: in case we need human protocol.”
“Or the perfect cover-up.” Freddie’s face was red, and her entire body trembled.
“That’s enough!” the chief said. Her voice was pleading as if she were warning Freddie off, rather than just shutting her up.
Charles snapped his fingers at Grant. “Get her under control. There’s too much at stake.”
The four adults exchanged dark looks that Rain couldn’t interpret. Clearly, they didn’t like one another, but they hated what Freddie was saying even more.
“Grant, take Freddie out for some fresh air,” Charles Ericksen said.
“I’ll go with her.” Rain followed them toward the hallway door, not wanting her alone with a guy who could use his “power of influence” on her.
“No, you’ll stay right here,” Chief Richter ordered as the door to the hallway closed behind Grant and Freddie. “I want to talk to you first, since you found…” She gestured to the blue plastic drum with her head. “Whatever that is.”
Rain shot a look around the room. There was a high probability that one of these people was responsible for Hans Burkhart’s murder and wanted Freddie dead next. Ulrich scowled and scrolled through something on his phone. Thomas and his dad huddled, muttering under their breaths in the far corner with Kurt. Merrick was leaning against one of the stem-removing machines they’d shown Rain on Friday night, and Charles Ericksen shifted his nervous gaze from the barrel to the door where his son had taken Freddie.
“First, we’ll take a look and find out what’s in the container,” the chief said, pulling a pair of gloves out of her bag. She pulled the second one on with a snap, then grabbed a camera out of the same bag. “If you wouldn’t mind, Klaus, I need some photos.”
Thomas’s dad took the camera and shot a bunch of photographs of the room, the blue plastic drum, and shots down inside it at the contents, like he was used to this routine. Since the chief, Ulrich, and Grant’s mom were in the photos with Freddie’s dad’s body, Klaus Weigl was likely the one who photographed him strung up on the grapevines.
The chief approached the drum with a tool that looked like a scalpel or art knife. Without prompting, Klaus continued to shoot pictures as she reached down inside the barrel. Rain stepped closer to get a better look as she sliced through the plastic and duct tape. Like him, the others in the room moved in closer.
She pulled the incision open a bit, revealing a partial view of a human ear. “I need everyone to step back,” she said. “Except Aaron Ryland.” She met his eyes, knife still in hand. “I would like you to stay right where you are.”
“Who is it?” Thomas asked.
“Mr. Ryland will tell you in a moment,” she replied. “Unless he’d like to tell us now.”
What the hell? Rain’s heart jackhammered against his ribs, and the room closed in on all sides.
“Do you know who this is?” Chief Richter asked.
He stared at the gap in the plastic. He could see only a part of an ear. No hair. Nothing. A sickening wave rolled through him, and he shook his head. Not Ruby. Please, not Ruby.
A lengthening of the opening revealed a whiskered jaw and then dirty, thinning hair.
Oh God. “Gerald,” he said.
The chief straightened and put a plastic cap on the knife. “Yes. Gerald Loche. You knew him, didn’t you, Aaron?”
“Only in passing.”
“Well enough to know that he was selected for Friederike before you. Well enough for him to give you a confidential file from my office.”
This was bad. She probably planned to frame him for this. No mention of the photographs, though, which he found interesting.
He took a deep breath, hoping he was wrong about being set up. He’d been wrong when the chief drove him down a deserted country road and he’d been certain he was going to die. Maybe she was like a cat that enjoyed playing with her catch for the sake of a thrill. He lifted his chin, determined not to let her intimidate him. “I knew him well enough to know he was a failed science experiment that posed no threat to me and wasn’t suitable for Freddie.”
The chief’s eyebrow winged up in surprise.
Freddie and Grant entered the room from the hall door and froze.
“It’s Gerald,” Merrick announced to them.
Both of their faces registered surprise and then sorrow. Rain was a bit thrown off by Grant’s obvious upset at Gerald’s death. A quick scan of the room gave no clues as to people’s honest reactions.
“Get the Sealer here, Charles,” the chief ordered. “It’s clear Gerald hasn’t been dead more than a day, or he’d stink to high heaven, but we need a time and cause of death.”
Grant’s dad pulled out his phone and strode to the door.
Chief Richter circled behind Rain, but he refused to turn and watch her. “Where were you yesterday, Ryland?”
Freddie answered before he could respond. “He was home. I was with him. You know the effect of the wine on humans. It took him days to recover.”
“That’s true. He would have been hard-pressed to kill anyone when he probably felt like dying himself,” Grant said as the chief circled back in front of Rain.
The chief gave Grant a quelling look, and he subserviently lowered his gaze.
“Be
sides,” Freddie added, “he’d have to possess a key to this room to access the chemical drums. It’s always locked up.”
“Kurt was on watch duty yesterday, according to this list.” Thomas’s dad pointed to a sign-in sheet on the wall. “He signed in at noon yesterday and out at ten this morning.” The man stalked to stand right in front of Kurt, who looked like he might piss his pants any second. “We all know you hated Gerald. Threatened to kill him multiple times. If you ask me, Wanda, I’d say you’ve got your killer right here. Motive, access, and too stupid to cover up after himself. I bet his fingerprints are all over that barrel.”
Freddie rolled her eyes. “Of course they are. We’re the ones who move the drums.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Chief Richter asked.
“I…” He clamped his mouth shut.
Merrick stopped shuffling foot to foot. “I was here. I was the one on duty.”
“Then why was Kurt signed in?” Klaus asked.
“Well…” He resumed the foot to foot weight shifting again, which always reminded Rain of Moth.
The big man’s face went red. Like Thomas, he clearly had a temper. “Answer, you worthless little shit.”
“That’s enough,” Ulrich said, moving closer to his sons. “You’ll not treat my boys like this.”
“You’re nothing but an imposter,” Klaus shot back. “A beta, just like your boys.”
Merrick’s voice was a tinge higher than usual, which Rain was certain wasn’t the effect he was going for. “I took Kurt’s shift for him, but nobody came in.”
“Why did you take his shift?” the chief asked.
“That’s not permitted,” Klaus said. “You didn’t clear it with me first. I’m head of pack security. Everything goes through me.”
“You need to leave, Klaus,” Wanda Richter said. “Now.”
“Make me, Weaver.”
A growl came from deep inside Ulrich’s chest. Rain had never heard anything quite like it. Rumbly and primitive and deadly.
“Dad, no,” Merrick said.
Freddie lowered into a half crouch, making a similar rumble. Holy shit. Surely they weren’t going to go Moon Creature right now.
“If it weren’t for the ward on this building that prevents shifting, you’d be in serious trouble right now,” Ulrich said.
“Perfect!” Klaus said, turning on his heel and striding to the door. “Take up for the murdering children and fucking witches. When this pack implodes, it’s on your head, Burkhart. You and your traitor brother and abomination of a niece.”
Freddie snarled. Her eyes had taken on that odd glazed look Rain had seen in the cave at Enchanted Rock.
Klaus stopped at the door. “The wrong wolf ended up dead in that barrel. Hopefully someone will get it right next time.” He gestured to Thomas. “Let’s go, son.”
“No. He stays until I’m through questioning,” the chief said.
“Suit yourself,” Klaus said. “He has an ironclad alibi, though. He was with me. All weekend long. Loads of witnesses. Let me know if you need a list of names.”
After he left, the air seemed lighter. Both Ulrich and Freddie straightened from their crouches, and their eyes cleared and focused.
Something crossed the chief’s face when she turned back to Merrick. Something that looked like compassion, but that couldn’t be right. Rain was pretty sure she didn’t have a heart or feelings at all. “Why did you take your brother’s shift?”
Merrick shot a look at Kurt, who nodded, encouraging his brother. “He wanted to go meet a livestock girl, so I agreed to swap shifts. He’s taking mine tonight.”
“Why didn’t you just sign in yourself if you swapped a shift?”
His chin dipped, and he shook his head. “Mr. Weigl would have made our lives hell for at least a month if we changed his schedule.”
Mr. Ericksen and Petra came into the room. Petra was dressed in a long, flowing black thing similar to the one she’d worn the last time Rain saw her. She looked tired, with black circles marring the eerie pale skin under her oversize eyes. She met his gaze briefly but gave no indication of recognition. She was keeping their friendship a secret.
“And nobody came in while you were here, Merrick?” the chief continued.
“No.”
Petra looked inside the barrel. Her expression reflected only mild interest. No revulsion or surprise. Without putting on gloves, she reached into the barrel and appeared to tug the plastic. Rain couldn’t see the body from where he was standing.
The chief continued her questions of Merrick. “You never left this room?”
He shrugged. “I had to go take a piss a couple of times.”
“Strangulation with a wire of some kind,” Petra said with a neutral tone, as if discussing the weather. She leaned back over the barrel and reached down to mess with the body. Rain was grateful he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing.
“So someone could have gotten in here and killed Gerald.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Ulrich said. “That means Gerald and the killer were here and did the whole thing in the time it took Merrick to go to the bathroom.”
The chief arched an eyebrow at Freddie’s uncle. “Or Merrick lured Gerald here and then killed him. If the livestock girl can’t corroborate Kurt’s story, I’m inclined to believe the boys worked together. It would take some strength to put the body in bags and in the drum.”
Petra straightened and tilted her head, staring in at Gerald’s body. “Based on swelling and rigor, he died sometime late last night. Someone put wolfsbane in the mouth to prevent post-mortem shifting. No other alteration or preparation, though. Can I leave now?”
“No,” the chief, Ulrich, and Charles said at the same time.
Petra crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead. “Today I weave the spell for Doctor Perkins. I need to go.”
The chief nodded to Mr. Ericksen, who approached Petra. “Listen, Sealer. We need to know if you’ve seen anything.”
“Ask Helga Goff. I’m inaccurate. And as your wife says, Mr. Ericksen, I only see conspiracies.”
“Is there a conspiracy here?” Rain asked.
“Shut up,” the chief ordered.
“Yes,” Petra answered. “A large one, but I can’t quite make it out, which probably means it’s orchestrated by a Weaver. I’m blind to my own kind.”
The chief looked down into the barrel, and her expression darkened. “Well, we know two things now: First, Gerald died from strangulation last night. Second, it had to be an inside job. Nobody else could have gotten in.” She turned to Ulrich. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take both of the boys into custody until this is sorted out. There’s too big a flight risk to leave them on their own.”
All color drained from Merrick’s and Kurt’s faces.
“Like hell you are,” Ulrich growled.
“You can’t legally do that without any evidence,” Rain said.
The chief closed the gap between them until they were toe to toe. “Things don’t work the way you’re used to around here, Aaron Ryland. We have our own laws and punishments. They were the last ones with the barrels. The exterior doors are set to lock automatically. That’s enough evidence for me.”
“Look, just because they were here last doesn’t mean they had anything to do with this,” Rain said. “Anyone could have gotten in here.” He pulled the lock tool from his pocket and strode to the door. Once out, he slammed it, then checked that it was locked and set to work. Within a few seconds, the tumblers clicked into place, and he opened the door. “Easy,” he remarked.
“I guess that puts you back on the suspect list,” the chief remarked. “Your alibi witness is not the most reliable in the world anyway.” She shot Freddie a condescending look. “I’m taking these two and Aaron Ryland.”
“Others can open the door,” Petra said, barely loud enough to be heard.
“Who?” Charles asked.
She stared at the chief for a mome
nt, then glanced at Rain. “Mrs. Goff.” She strode to the door, and her shoulders rose and fell with a breath. “And me.” She placed her hand on the door handle, and it unlocked with a pop. “So holding Rain Ryland because he can pick the lock is a waste of time unless you plan to detain every resident of New Wurzburg who owns one of those tools, along with Mrs. Goff and me. Keeping the wolf boys because they were on watch is silly, too. Any pack member in the building could have done it, so you’ll need to round up every Watcher.” She put her hands on her hips. “I have a better idea. Leave everybody alone. I’ll look for prints on the barrel and body and will get back to you with any evidence I find.”
“Add this to her file, too,” Ulrich said. “For when the tribunal has their hearing next year. Instead of my boys, you might want to look into this Weaver.”
“Oh, stop it, Ulrich,” the chief said, her voice softer. “In case you didn’t notice, she just stood up for your boys. You’re just looking for someone to blame for your brother’s death.”
“And you’re just protecting your own kind.”
“It seems to me, Watcher,” Petra said, advancing on Ulrich, “you’re blaming me for both of these deaths in order to deflect attention from yourself. Who has more motive to kill than you? You had access to both victims.”
“That’s enough,” Charles Ericksen said. “Know your place.”
“I know my place,” she said. “And it’s not burning on a stake, which is where Ulrich Burkhart would have me.”
“Get her out, Grant,” Charles Ericksen said.
Grant made a move toward her, and she held up both palms. “Touch me, and I’ll knock you on your ass again, like I did in second grade. I’m happy to leave on my own, thank you.”
Rain fought back a smile. Go, Petra.
She got to the door and stopped, her back to the room. “You never meet my eyes directly, Ulrich Burkhart. Why is that?” Her eyes flew wide in mock surprise. “Oh, wait. That’s right. You don’t want me to see your memories.”
