by Renee Jordan
You needed shifter cops to deal with shifter criminals.
And if that meant an arm was broken, so be it. Jimmy's boast of suing us would go nowhere. Shifters were hard to take down without inflicting injury unless they surrendered peacefully. And the asshole had it coming.
He took shots at me and almost killed my tiger.
The report filed, I grabbed a cup of coffee. It was always the worst in the middle of the night when needed most. But I sipped it and sat at my desk in silence, waiting for Jimmy to be brought back from the hospital and processed.
I felt Shane's eyes on me. He kept trying to get my attention. Little things. Subtle coughs. Shifting his chair. Tapping a pencil on the desk. Groaning. Yawning. He wanted to talk about the kiss. I bet he wanted a quickie in the bathroom. To bleed off the excitement of the chase.
Asshole.
Finally, he sat on the edge of my desk.
“Yes?”
“How are we going to do the interrogation?”
I leaned back in my chair, staring up at him. He wore a clean shirt and slacks. The clothes appeared tighter, clinging to his muscles. The faint whiff of his blood bled through the bandage. He showed no signs of pain. Tough. Strong.
Damn, why did everything he did make me excited?
“Simple, we offer him a plea. He's a coward. He's facing life in prison. No parole. Two counts of attempted murder on a police officer this evening alone, when combined with the arson and attempted murder charges from last spring, he's not getting out of prison, ever.”
“Plead him down to twenty years.”
“Out in ten with good behavior. I'm sure the prosecutor will sign off on it if it leads to Michael's arrest.” I flicked my eyes at him. “Of course, backing from the Justice Department in support of the deal would help. Maybe you should go make phone calls?”
His jaw tightened. “Listen, about what happened, I—”
“Wasting time, Shane. If we can't promise any deal, we really won't have any leverage on Jimmy. You want Michael, go make the calls.”
Annoyance soured his scent. “Fine.”
He hoped off my desk and went to make his phone call. I shook my head. No quickie for you.
Shane made his calls, and I made mine. I spoke to a junior prosecutor who was not happy to be woken up, but he gave his blessing to the plea deal, probably so he could go back to bed. He faxed over a quick document outlining the proposal. I pulled it off the machine, still warm, when Xavier and Kiernan returned with the prisoner released from the trauma clinic in Olson, a white cast about his arm.
Processing took another twenty minutes. Jimmy posed for another set of mugshots, his tenth, and was fingerprinted. His personal effects were collected, an orange jumpsuit issued, he changed, and was ready to be interrogated.
Shane and I let him stew in interrogation for another twenty minutes. We watched him squirm through the CCTV cameras, his good arm cuffed to the metal railing on the table. He leaned his head on the table, sighing, then sat up, rocking in his chair before groaning.
I went first into the room, holding the folder with the deal agreement. “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, you really outdid yourself tonight.”
“Shooting at a cop and a federal agent,” Shane laughed, “before you got your ass handed to you.”
“Didn't know you were cops,” Jimmy said. “You didn't have any lights on your car. Then you forced me off the road. So, yeah, I came out with a weapon. Had to protect myself.”
“A weapon that a convicted criminal like you shouldn't possess.” I shook my head. “That's a mandatory ten years added on your sentence given your criminal record.”
He shrugged.
“And then you fired it at cops.”
“At a woman with a gun who never identified herself,” he countered. “Self-defense. That's why I shot. I had a crazy woman and a tiger after me. Fuck, you ripped off my truck door, asshole.”
“It was a piece of shit anyways, Jimmy,” Shane shrugged. “But that doesn't matter. You shot at cops while we were stopping you because of your warrant. Or did you forget about the other cops you tried to kill and the fire that did kill people? Murder, attempted murder. Going away for a long, long time, Jimmy.”
“That was all Fiona's doing. I didn't light no fire or nothing. Wasn't in Moonrise at all.”
“Bullshit,” I snarled. “I saw you that night. So did half my department. You tried to claw Kiernan up, but he ripped into you good. Shame you managed to crawl to safety.”
“Wasn't me,” he repeated.
“And it wasn't you that put two bullets into my vehicle?” I arched an eyebrow. “And tried to put two in my skull?”
“Self-defense.”
I opened the folder. “Jimmy, what jury in the world's going to buy that excuse with your record? Not the first time you've resisted arrest. You're going to be spending a good, long time in Montana State Prison. Scrawny guy like you, I bet you'll be real popular.”
Jimmy scowled. “Nope. I'll win.”
Shane laughed. “Who'd trust the word of a shifty, lying, piece of shit coyote? You're part of the Donovan Clan. Everyone for three counties in any direction knows that you're a pack of degenerate thieves. They'll be glad to lock you up.”
“Life in prison. All because Michael Donovan is back in town.”
Jimmy froze. “What?” He forced a laugh. “What are you talking about? He's in prison.”
“You're saying you didn't know he escaped?” I shook my head.
Shane lowered his voice. “He diddles your sister. I'm sure you've heard about it. I bet she must be so excited to spread her legs for Michael again.”
“Don't say shit like that,” groaned Jimmy. “That's fucked up.”
“That your sister is a whore?” I shrugged. “I always figured you took a poke at her. You coyote's keep it close. No breeding with outsiders, right?”
“Probably why she started hooking,” laughed Shane. “Had to find other men than her small-dicked brother to satisfy her.”
I forced an uproarious laugh, putting all the mocking, humiliating derision I could into it. Jimmy's scent went sour. He growled, snarled, pulled at the restraints, metal chain clinking against the table. He did not like that one bit.
“She must love Michael. A real man to take her. Bet you're real jealous he's back in town. No more free pokes at sis.” I paused. “Is that why you were at her trailer? Hoping she would come home and want to mess up the sheets?”
“Shut up,” he hissed, face turning red.
“Naw, he was watching the place while she screwed Michael. Then she called for a lift. That's why you left the trailer. To go pick up your sister where Michael is hiding. Hoping to get sloppy seconds.” Shane shook his head. “Pathetic.”
“Shut! Up!”
“Does it make you mad that Michael swings into town and all your pack fawns over him? Asshole's been away for years, abandoned you all to make it big in Miami, but when he's in trouble, he runs home with a tail between his legs. And you are all such bitches you put up with it. Little beta males all rolling onto your bellies for him.”
I sneered. “I bet you did. You rolled over and then offered up your sister. You begged him to fuck her. To make her his whore. I bet you were hoping to get all sorts of rewards. And now you're getting nothing but a lifetime in the pokey. All because the guy screwing your sister had to come back to town.”
“Sucks,” Shane said. “Should be Michael in prison for life. Away from your sister.”
Jimmy scowled. “You expect me to tell you where he is?”
“So you know where he is?” I asked with a grin. “Good, tell us.”
“No, I don't.”
“But you just said you did,” Shane said.
Jimmy frowned. He worked his jaw. “No, I didn't. I said that you expect me to.”
“Is that what you said? I heard you say you know where he is and you'll tell us for a price.” I pushed the folder forward. “If you can read, I have a plea agreement. Twenty years
instead of life.”
“Out in ten with good behavior,” added Shane.
Jimmy glanced down at the folder. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You think I'll betray the pack?”
“You're a coyote,” I snorted. “I expect you'd sell out your mother for a pack of cigarettes. Ten years sounds a lot better than life. Especially when Michael deserves to be serving it. He's just like his sister, getting you in trouble with serious crimes. Look at all the problems they've caused. No earning money on gambling or selling liquor on the reservation. No sneaking prostitutes up here for the miners. All us cops coming down hard on you.
“How is a man supposed to make a living when Michael Donovan brings all the heat down on your pack?”
“On your sister.” Shane leaned in. “She'll be heading to Montana Women's Prison. A life in a small cell. All because Michael's in town and needed to get laid.”
“Just tell us where Michael is, and we won't prosecute your sister. But if you make us find Michael on our own, we'll charge her with everything and the kitchen sink.”
Shane held out his hand, ticking off fingers, “Aiding and abetting a fugitive, prostitution, drug running, resisting arrest. If she so much as twitches at us, we'll add assaulting a police officer.”
“She'll go away for a looong time, Jimmy.” I pulled a pen out my breast pocket, clicked the tip. “So sign the plea agreement and tell us where Michael is held up.”
“For your sister.”
Jimmy stared down at the plea agreement. “Ten years?”
“If you're a good boy,” I said, sliding the pen across the table to him. “Can you be a good boy?”
“Fuck,” he sighed and snatched up the pen. He scrawled his name across the bottom. “He's held up in the old slaughterhouse off the highway. The one that ain't been used in a decade or more.”
“Stanchen's Abattoir?”
He nodded. “Place reeks of pig, even after all these years. That's where he's held up. Him and my sister. But he's vigilant. You go in there with a whole buncha cops, he'll bugger out before you make it up the drive to the factory.”
“But if we show up in your truck, what, he'll just roll over and let us have him?” I asked.
“He's an idiot,” Jimmy shrugged. “Don't know how he ever got so successful. Guy still wants Britney, and everyone in the County's had a poke at her. He leaves the loading dock door open. You can drive my truck right in. Least, what I'd do. He'll be holed up in the manager's office. Got a pallet for him and Britney up there. By the time he realizes it ain't me, it'll be too late.”
“Guns?”
“Naw, just like a handgun. The gang dumped all our...heavier weapons after the fire. Things got too hot.” He spat. “Fucking Fiona.”
“Amen,” I nodded.
Chapter Twelve
“I think this is BS,” I snarled at Shane as he marched through the deserted precinct. “Jimmy's fucking with us. From everything I read about Michael, he's not the guy to hang out in a slaughterhouse. He likes the good life. That place has been abandoned for fifteen years or more. No maintenance or nothing.”
“Exactly,” Shane nodded. “It's why he would hide there. He's smart, Veronica. Too smart.”
“None of the coyotes are smart. All just mangy curs.”
“Don't let your prejudice cloud your thinking,” he admonished. “Coyotes aren't a lesser type of shifters.”
I snorted. “Tell that to the Donovan clan.”
“They're just shifters, like us. Good and bad, dumb and smart. And Michael's smart. We can get the drop on him. Me and you.”
My wolf snarled inside me. “Oh, yes, now it's me and you.”
He flinched and hurt spiked his scent. “Veronica, I—”
“Made it clear that you don't give a fuck about the imprint.” I grabbed my hat off my desk. “Well, let's go get the asshole. I want to get to sleep eventually. It's been a long day. Strenuous.” I smiled at that.
“And your...friend is waiting for you?” More hurt filled his scent while his face hardened.
“Ajax? Maybe. He's always up for a romp. And he's not the only one. Plenty of men in Moonrise eager to get frisky with a randy wolf.”
A snarl escaped his lips. His eyes burned. Jealousy. It was thick. Full of hurt pain and longing. Now that he knew other men enjoyed me, enjoyed his wolf, he grew angry. Well, it was too late. All he had to do was not abandon me in the middle of the night and I would be all his.
We would be happy. How wonderful that sounded. Happy. It was hard to remember what that actually felt like.
“Move your ass, Shane, unless you want me tell you about all my booty calls.” I shook my hips. “I can give you—”
He snarled and stalked past me, his body trembling. I smelled the tiger on him, eager to burst out like it had with Jimmy. When he had saved my life.
Fuck.
My anger deflated. Guilt swirled through me. I breathed in his scent. I had hurt him. Why should that make me feel like shit? He had stamped all over my heart. He created this mess. All he had to do was reject the imprint or stay with me. Then neither of us would be in pain.
Macy's advice echoed through my mind again. I weakened. I wanted to run after him, throw my arms around him, and tell him I missed him. I wanted him. I loved him. I did. That was why he made me so angry. Why it was so easy to hurt him.
Because he had wounded me so deeply I had never healed. Three years. Ten. I would never be whole.
I sighed and followed after him.
“Where are you off to?” asked Hank, walking in from outside.
“Why aren't you home with Macy?” I frowned. “You're off.”
He shrugged. “So you got another lead on Michael? Heard you brought in that Murphy asshole.”
“Yeah, the Stanchen's Abattoir. Michael's holed up there.”
“Backup?”
I shook my head. “Don't want to tip him off. He might be twitchy. We're using Jimmy's car. It's expected.”
“Well, that's stupid,” Hank muttered.
“It's probably nothing, Hank. Jimmy just fucking with us. So relax. We'll radio in once we've checked it out.”
I felt Hank's eyes on me as I walked out of the precinct. Since becoming a father, he was such a worrier. Wolves shouldn't worry.
The drive to the slaughterhouse was silent. Both of us brooded as we drove through the empty streets of Moonrise. A tension built inside of me the closer and closer we grew to the slaughterhouse, keeping tiredness at bay. I had had a long day. Normally, I would be asleep. But we were going into the unknown.
Maybe Jimmy was right. He smelled like he was telling the truth. He was too stupid to make up that lie. There were specifics in his story. Like where Michael was in the warehouse's office, driving up to the door, and Michael having only a single gun.
Shane was right. This was our chance. A single car driving up is what Michael expected. He would think it was Jimmy, come to bring him supplies. He wouldn't bolt like he would if we swept in there with the entire department. The woods abutted the back of the warehouse. He could flee. Yes, we would track, but coyotes were fast runners.
Cowards always were. I bet Shane was fast.
He glanced at me as we neared the slaughterhouse. He studied me. I didn't like it. I shifted, all too aware of the blush spreading across my cheeks. My body responded. I hated instincts. Sometimes it would be wonderful to be human and not be driven by my wolf. To be free of the imprint.
Whoever thought the imprint was a good idea? Why did wolves have to mate for life?
“Should we talk about what happened?” Shane said, breaking the silence.
“What?” I demanded. “Are you interested in my booty calls after all? Got a bit of cuck in you, Shane?”
“No,” he snarled, voice thick with the tiger. “I don't want to hear...” He took a deep breath. “I shouldn't get mad about that. I left. I did. And when I came back...I shouldn't be surprised.”
“No, you shouldn't be. Three years is a long time.
I moved on.”
He laughed. “No, you didn't. And I don't mean when I came back this time.”
“What do you mean, I haven't moved on? I have.” My stomach churned. Why was I saying these lies? I hadn't. He had to smell it on me.
“No, you haven't. You kissed me. In the heat of the moment, you betrayed yourself.” He sighed. “ I know, it's my fault. I left. I did. I should have come back sooner, but I was an idiot.”
“The kiss was a mistake,” I growled. “Like you said, I got caught up. Like the first time we fucked. I'm just hot-blooded. If you were any other handsome man, I would have still kissed you. Don't think it means anything.”
“It does, Veronica.” he sighed. “I really fucked everything up. It scared me. What I felt. Tigers don't...”
“Imprint? Fall in love?”
“We fall in love. We just don't only love one person. We spread love out and...”
“Disgusting.”
“I'm trying to say I love just you. That I want just you. It goes against everything my tiger wants, but I can't help it.”
“Then why did you leave?” Then, before he answered, I snarled, “Because you're a coward. Because I frightened you. Blah, blah, blah. Excuses won't change what you did. You were gone three years.”
“It was three months,” he said. “I came back and—”
I didn't want to hear it. “We're here,” I snarled and turned off the road.
A swinging gate arm cut across the driveway that led to the slaughter house. A no trespassing sign was bolted to the middle of the gate, black letters on yellow. A chain wrapped about the arm's end and a metal post. It should be padlocked, but the lock was missing. The chain had been looped to give it the illusion of being secured.
Shane glanced at me and sighed. “We'll talk later.”
“Yes, when we're about to raid a dangerous criminal isn't the time to bring up the past and piss me off. Not your best idea, Shane. Of course, you've had worse.”
