“Kreuger is your possible victim.”
“That’s right. And as persona non grata with the Park pack, you can see why no one reporting him missing does not necessarily mean he’s not.”
“Are you saying my family had something to do with this?” Park asked calmly.
“Why, did you kill him?” Muñoz asked.
Cooper felt the vibration of Park’s restrained growl under his fingers, and he tightened his grip. The vibration stopped.
“Obviously you don’t think that or you wouldn’t have called us in,” Cooper said while attempting to keep his voice light. “So what is it you think actually happened to Mr. Kreuger?”
Muñoz gave one last hard stare at Park, then shifted her gaze to Cooper. “I don’t know. But I did get a phone call from Thomas a week before he disappeared. I was surprised to hear from him. We hadn’t spoken in a couple of years. But he knew—” she hesitated and glanced at Santiago, who did something complicated with her eyebrows “—I had a connection in the BSI. He told me something had happened.”
Cooper frowned, noticing the hesitation. The nonverbal communication, the way Santiago hovered behind Muñoz, not unlike the way Cooper was doing to Park... Was Santiago in a relationship Muñoz? If so, she clearly wasn’t interested in bringing it up.
“What kind of thing did he say happened?” Cooper asked instead.
“Something that had freaked him out. He was uncomfortable telling me what. I think—I think he was weighing his options.” She crossed and uncrossed her arms, uncomfortably. As if suddenly second-guessing how wise it was to be breaking Kreuger’s confidence with people like Cooper and Park. “He wanted to know if the BSI offers deals. Witness protection-type stuff.”
They didn’t. Considering the mafia-like mentality of the larger packs, perhaps they should. “Kreuger witnessed a crime?” Cooper asked.
“He wouldn’t say. Like I said, he was weighing his options. He’d been living as far off the radar as possible for years. Whatever it was, he must have felt desperate to even consider reaching out.”
“You said he put in his notice. What makes you think he didn’t change his mind about involving the BSI and whatever spooked him just sent him running?”
Muñoz frowned, but Santiago cleared her throat and said, “That is certainly a possibility and just one of the reasons why neither the Trust nor the BSI is choosing to pursue the case at this juncture.”
“Are there other reasons we should know about?”
Santiago’s eyes darted to Park. “Margaret Cola may be director of the Trust, but she’s also an old friend of your family. It doesn’t look great for her to go out of her way to track down an unofficially missing man the Park pack would rather just stay disappeared. Kreuger is going to slip through the cracks because he made the wrong enemies over a decade ago.”
Muñoz made a quiet sound of repressed anger, and Santiago looked at her, face softening. “I’m asking you to take this case and go undercover at the retreat as a...personal favor.”
The two women were almost definitely in a relationship then. That explained why Santiago was going out of her way to investigate what might not be a criminal case at all, even stretching the boundaries of what was legal. Perhaps that even explained why Santiago was reaching out to Cooper rather than using her influence within the BSI. Inevitable questions about her connection to the case would come up, the answers to which she might not want to broadcast.
How long had they been together? Muñoz clearly knew about Park’s past, so had Santiago also known all that time ago, when she’d first introduced Cooper to Park? Was that why she’d distanced herself from him after learning he and Park were together? Did it even matter now?
He didn’t have time to find out because all those questions paled beside the one word that had jumped out and lodged in Cooper’s throat. “Undercover?”
“Neither agency is willing to put their stamp on it, so this has to be a quiet inquiry. Besides, if Kreuger did stumble across something going on at the retreat, you’ll have a much easier time doing the same if you’re staying there.”
“But undercover?” Cooper protested.
“I’ve read your file front to back, Dayton. I know you’re more than capable of undercover work.”
Cooper felt a flush of heat in his face as Park twisted in his seat to look at him curiously. They didn’t spend much time talking about Cooper’s few years in the FBI before his abrupt and violent recruit to the BSI after a wolf attack had left him with a lot less gut.
“Why us?” he said, flustered.
“Because I need someone I can trust in there. Someone I know is more concerned with finding the truth than upsetting the Park pack or inter-bureau politics. Someone who isn’t afraid to step on some toes. Frankly, Dayton, I don’t know anyone less concerned with pissing off people and wolves alike.”
“Careful, all this flattery is going straight to my head,” Cooper said dryly. “But I suppose I can consider choking down a mojito in the sun. For justice, of course.”
Santiago smiled, the first genuine amusement he’d seen on her face so far. “It’s not that part of North Carolina. And it’s not that sort of retreat.” She looked at Park. “Maudit Falls is a relationship retreat. Counseling for couples working on interpersonal dynamics and trying to revive their partnership. You know the format. Guests sign up for three-, five- or seven-day workshops to look within themselves or each other or some shit. It’s deep in the mountains because privacy is important for obvious reasons.”
“Are they...celebrity couples?” Cooper said.
“It’s run by wolves for wolves,” Santiago said bluntly.
Park’s expression darkened. “This is where Kreuger was staying off the grid?”
Muñoz had willingly given the reins to Santiago, but at Park’s criticism she spoke up again, tone sharp. “Would you have forbidden him from that as well? Thomas spent years isolated with no one but humans for company. We need to be around our own kind.”
At her words, Cooper felt a surge of...something. Panic, nausea, fear, annoyance? Mix together and serve cold, a la lump in throat?
“The point is,” Santiago said loudly, giving Muñoz a look. “You two are perfect for this. Built-in cover story, ready to go.”
“One problem,” Park said. “Just because people don’t know I work for the Trust doesn’t mean they won’t know my past. Even south of my family’s territory, there’s a chance I’ll be recognized.”
“Oh, more than a chance, I think. In fact, I’m depending on it,” Santiago said. “You can imagine how exclusive a relationship retreat for wolves is. They can’t have human couples wandering in bickering about mundane stuff like affairs and contributing to household chores equally. The background checks for guests is extensive and exhausting, and the wait list long. We’d never get any old agent in. But the Shepherd and his human mate seeking the help and guidance of Maudit Falls? It’s too good an opportunity for them to pass up and exactly the bait we need to get you on the inside.”
Suddenly all her flattery about being the only one willing to piss important people off in the name of justice like some kind of caped and spandexed hero seemed just that. Flattery. This was the reason she really needed them. And frankly, Cooper could see her point. He had witnessed firsthand how wolves went out of their way to accommodate the Park family.
“No one knows you work for the Trust, but there aren’t many wolves who haven’t heard of the Shepherd or know of your grandfather’s recent demise. If we tell the director you want to keep a low profile and use a pseudonym, he’ll even help you keep your cover stories. Anything to keep on the Shepherd’s good side. In fact, Paul Claymont used to follow your family when he lived up north. His alpha was Becca and he only left her pack to run this retreat with his partner, Vanessa, who’s one of the therapists there.”
Park frowned but nodded. “I re
member Becca.”
Santiago tossed a folder onto the low wooden coffee table in the center of the room. “All the information you need—all the information we have—is in that file. What do you say?”
Cooper looked back at Park. It could easily be one big wild goose chase. Kreuger had made both enemies and a habit of dropping off the grid. But if there was a chance, even a slim one, that Kreuger was in danger and the bureaucracy and prejudice of humans and wolves alike was preventing him from getting help, then this was part of the very reason Cooper had joined the Trust.
“Please,” Muñoz said, and Park’s eyes flickered toward her. “You said you were sorry for the way things happened fifteen years ago. Was that true? Do you really want to make amends?”
“Yes.” Park’s voice was slightly strained. “I want that.”
“Then use it. Use all that fear you created, that power. For good this time.”
Cooper didn’t move, not wanting to influence Park either way. But eventually, Park nodded at her solemnly. Muñoz inhaled and nodded shakily back. Her eyes glimmered.
Cooper bit the inside of his cheek. “We’ll have to talk to Cola about time off—” he started.
“Already done,” Santiago said, and shrugged at Cooper’s look. “What can I say, I had a feeling you wouldn’t turn your back on this. Cola’s agreed to loan you out for five days. Your meet-and-greet is on Thursday.” She grinned. “Look at it this way: if there’s nothing wrong, you get to have a nice little vacation. Get some fresh mountain air, brisk swims in the lake, couple’s counseling. Who knows, maybe you’ll even learn something about yourself.”
* * *
A wall of heat hit Cooper in the face as soon as he opened the door.
“Jesus,” Park exhaled, striding past him into the apartment. “It’s a hundred degrees in here.” Cooper knew it couldn’t have literally been the first words he’d spoken since they’d left Santiago’s place, but it was close.
“AC must have broken down again.” Cooper walked straight for one of the windows and began the arduous process of yanking it up. It was an old building modified for apartments, not ease. He felt a tightness in his gut that hadn’t been there a minute ago, shame and embarrassment. Which was ridiculous because the temperature of his apartment said nothing about his value. Their apartment. Theirs. For now, anyway.
One final wiggle and shove got the window all the way up. The late evening air was only marginally cooler than the day, but anything was better than this greenhouse.
“Fuck, where’s Boogie?” Cooper turned to see Park shirtless, kicking off his shoes and already unbuckling his belt. He felt his own temperature rise a couple more degrees, which seemed a potentially fatal mistake for his body to be making.
“Um,” Cooper said, completely forgetting what he’d been about to say.
“I need to get out of this skin for a bit,” Park said, avoiding Cooper’s eyes and yanking his pants to the ground. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“What? No, of course not,” Cooper stuttered. “Have fun!”
Park shot him an odd look but went into the bedroom. As soon as he was out of sight, Cooper yelled silently at the ceiling. Have fun? Jesus fucking Christ.
Boogie jumped onto the back of the couch from seemingly nowhere. “Oh, now you come.”
Cooper scooped her up and felt her flop bonelessly backward over his shoulder and stretch. Mentally he ran through the things he’d need to sort out before leaving town, but kept returning to Park. The blankly devastated look on his face. Like the levelling after an earthquake. It was obvious Muñoz’s words had shaken him. That he hated being reminded of his time as the Shepherd. Infamous and feared to this day. A time he was never really able to escape. Even at work with the Trust, the other wolves treated him with a wary sort of respect. Nothing like the antagonistic greeting today, but not overly friendly, either. Certainly not relaxed.
Not for the first time, Cooper considered how lonely Park was. Had always been. Was forced to be. How strange that a man like that had ended up with Cooper, someone who took genuine pleasure in alone time. Why? What the hell about him had Park seen and thought, Oh yes, anxiety-ridden loner with a temper sharper than a serpent’s tooth and a deep-seated fear of change whose longest successful relationship is with an equally judgmental cat? Swoon. It seemed too improbable for words.
It also wasn’t something Cooper necessarily felt comfortable bringing up. He was confident enough in their relationship that he didn’t actually believe Park would literally slap his forehead and say, “You’re so right. Consider this love curse broken.” But...airing out all the ways that they as a couple shouldn’t work, didn’t work on paper wouldn’t feel good, either. Regardless, now wasn’t the time to be raising doubts. Their plates were full.
Park had seemed lost in memories on the drive back. Distracted in a way Cooper rarely saw in him. But there was a quiet sort of determination in him, too. Like he had latched onto Muñoz’s talk of making amends and would pursue this case to hell and back.
Cooper wasn’t sure Park needed redemption. Not to the degree he seemed to crave it, anyway. But exactly because he craved it, Cooper would do whatever it took to help him get it. If it meant earning Park that peace and even just a sliver of self-forgiveness, he’d join him. To hell and back.
A now fairly familiar sound, like the clacking of heavy stones against each other, sounded from the bedroom, and Boogie ripped out of Cooper’s gentle hold, throwing herself to the floor.
“Hey!” Cooper made a grab for her, but she was too quick, skittering across the wood and even running in place for a moment like a cartoon.
The first couple of times Boogie had caught sight of Park in fur, she’d stared at him with such wide-eyed shock Cooper had needed to stifle his laughter. She’d quickly gotten over that stage and moved onto being gleefully obsessed with Park, even more so than before. Smart thing that she was, it hadn’t taken long to start associating that peculiar clacking sound with this fascinating version of her reluctant best friend, and Cooper had a hard time keeping them separated, much to Park’s dismay.
He followed her now, calling her name and being extra loud as he approached the bedroom as much for Park’s benefit as Boogie’s. A warning that he was coming in. “Boogs?”
Cooper knocked on the partially open bedroom door and stuck his head in. Perhaps one day he would get used to the sight of a two-hundred-pound wolf pacing the cramped space between his bed and the wall, but today was not that day. Even fully expecting to see Park in fur, it was like looking at a surreal painting, feeling that slight hitch in thought as his brain went, Well, that can’t be right and doubled back to recheck its inputs.
Park did not break his stride when Cooper entered, he just kept walking back and forth. When he’d get to the wall he’d knock his shoulder against it as if furious at its presence and then stomp back to the bed and knock the same shoulder against the mattress. Boogie was intent on stalking his heels, alternating between staring at Park’s ankles and lunging after them in tiny bursts of frantic movement, desperately trying to get her mouth around one. Park didn’t even seem to notice her. He was growling, punctuated by an occasional snarl and jerk of his head as if starting to snap at something on his back and then thinking better of it.
Cooper had the sudden, disorientating sensation of being alone. Separate. Monologues were being shouted and all he could see was moving lips. If he asked what they meant, no one would answer. He could only extrapolate what Boogie and Park were thinking. They were each of them alone. Isolated by being the only one of their kind in that room. God knew what Boogie was picking up on and why it had prompted the response of biting mania. And Park? He was obviously saying something, too. Communicating an emotion: anger, frustration, regret, sadness, something. Something that knocked his lips back to reveal vicious teeth. But Cooper could no more understand the nuances of that driving emotion than he
could snarl articulately back.
Then Park looked up at him. Pain, that was what it was. Pain. The alone, separate feeling disappeared.
He walked right up to Park and knelt so they were just about eye-level. “Oliver,” he said, but Park brushed by him.
Come on, Cooper thought. He’s hurting. He needs you to be this...thing for him. So buck up and be it.
Cooper inhaled deeply and straightened his shoulders, trying to picture leader-types. “Oliver, stop,” he commanded in his most take-charge voice and reached out his hand. His fingers combed through the fur of Park’s neck. Cooper only managed to register the softness of it, the thickness of it before Park’s whole body flinched and he let out a high, terrified sound one might expect from a kicked dog.
Cooper whipped his hand back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
But Park’s legs were already buckling and he rolled onto his side, exposing his belly.
Cooper leapt to his feet, hands held awkwardly up, not wanting to hurt him again. Not sure how he had hurt him to begin with, which made the possibility of doing it again all too likely. God, what was he thinking? That he could just fake his way through? He felt inadequate. As a partner, a lover, a friend, an alpha.
Park had come in here to be by himself. Not for Cooper to take a stab in the dark at being something he so clearly was not.
“I’m sorry,” Cooper whispered, again. “I’ll just—” He gestured awkwardly at the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Park was still staring at him, but obviously wasn’t going to respond. Cooper’s arms physically ached with the desire to reach for him, touch him. But the risk of hurting him again, of doing something else that upset him when he could not say no, was far worse than the feeling of keeping his hands clenched and to himself.
Cooper opened his mouth to say sorry again, closed it, and scooped up a furious Boogie. “I’ll try to fix the AC.” He hurried to leave, feeling Park track his movement from his position on the floor, then stopped. “I’m going to ask Ava to take Boogie to her place tonight, so don’t worry about her, you know, bothering you anymore. If you wanted to take your time, I mean.”
Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Big Bad Wolf) Page 3
