The NightShade Forensic Files: Fracture Five (Book 2)

by A. J. Scudiere

  She nodded, "We're not going to get him that way. We need to go back and find out what those people know."

  His bark of laughter signaled his disbelief. "Do you have any military background? Can you fake your way in there? Besides, they already saw us."

  He shook his head. But his rebuttal didn't stop her.

  "You can go in."

  "No. I'm not any more capable than you of faking—"

  The look in her eyes stopped him. Her next words didn't help.

  "Well, you can't climb the fence, but you can hang out and listen without them knowing." Her fork was paused halfway to her mouth and from the looks of her, she was serious.

  He almost smacked the beer down onto the table.

  "No."

  Donovan sat in the back seat of the rental car, his mouth slightly open and his eyes staring at the back of Eleri's head. He could no longer make language sounds and that was a good thing or he might be saying things he couldn't take back.

  She'd talked him into it.

  And he'd let her.

  He'd argued that Metro Animal Control could pick him up, or even shoot him on sight. She'd argued back that it was highly unlikely and she would intervene, blowing her own cover, before any of that happened.

  He'd suggested they get a real dog. Put a listening device on it and use it to scout the chain-link block, but she quickly shot that down, too. A real dog couldn't follow the conversation, wouldn't know where to get the best spot. While he’d talked Eleri out of the recording device, he’d eventually caved to a small GPS.

  He wanted to vomit.

  Even sitting here quietly in the back of the car, the feeling of the collar around his neck was restrictive. But if something happened—if Animal Control or anyone did manage to scoop him up—he'd be up shit creek if Eleri couldn't find him.

  He'd still fought against it. "I can't risk exposing myself. My people have stayed hidden for . . . centuries."

  She'd crossed her arms and raised one dark reddish eyebrow at him, the pale green of her eyes broadcasting sharp disbelief. "Um. No you haven't. Had y'all really stayed hidden, there would be no legends."

  She shrugged at him like "beat that."

  He'd nearly growled. "I'm not a werewolf."

  "Fine. But you are the thing the legends are based on. So I argue that some of your kind did in fact get out and about in the past."

  Then, when he'd finally capitulated, she asked if she could watch.

  "No!" Donovan had exploded in disbelief. He wasn't angry so much as stuck. "You cannot watch me change. . . Ever. I don't watch you bathe!"

  "It's not the same." Eleri shook her head. "I get that it's an intrusion and I'm sorry, but it's so scientifically interesting."

  She'd stood for a moment as though that was enough of an argument to intrude even further than she already had into a life he'd kept successfully closed for over three decades.

  "Fine." He crossed his own arms, not missing that they were having a full blown living room standoff. "But I get to hand you items with horrible pasts, you even have to sleep with them, and I'll hook you up to brain monitors and I’ll study you while you study me."

  There was silence as he won a tiny battle in the war.

  "Fine. Go change. Close the door, scratch when you want out." She'd turned away.

  So somehow here he was in the back seat, wearing a collar, ready to go see if he could make friends with the soldiers. Which meant he hadn't really won much at all, had he?

  They were two blocks away when Eleri found an empty spot she liked. There were plenty to choose from. Downtown LA, while bustling during the day, was a ghost town at night. Only a few people who didn't look homeless wandered around on their way from one event to another. There seemed to be a surge in new housing downtown, but the two of them had already driven past where the economic growth ended. This part of town had not yet been gentrified.

  She opened the back door of the car and Donovan hopped out, the pads of all four feet making contact with the concrete. It was not the sand and reeds he'd run in at FoxHaven. It wasn't the loamy topsoil and protruding branches of his home forest. It was city, pure and simple.

  Donovan loped away before anyone could see them together. He was grateful his fur was black and not a lighter color where he could be mistaken for a coyote. There was a faint trace of their scent even here.

  This form opened his nasal cavities, making his inhumanly exceptional sense of smell even better. He should have found something of Cooper Rollins' to sniff before he came here.

  It didn't matter. He didn't have anything and he couldn't think how to get it.

  Ozzy's scent floated to him. Even though he'd only gotten a whiff of the man while in human form earlier that day, he could recognize the vet now. He was out of the compound.

  Donovan wanted to get to the fence before anyone stopped him or—god forbid—tried to pet him. So he picked up his pace.

  Eleri walked briskly past, her jacket light enough to be taken for normal as the night cooled just a little. Had it been ninety, the clothing would have been more suspicious. Still, she figured she had three passes at best.

  Her hair was tucked into a bun, the night hiding the red tones, she hoped. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. Looking relatively normal was harder than it seemed.

  The jacket was flimsy, and if she pulled it tight, she would expose the handgun holstered at her back. She also couldn't walk like a fed, but she couldn't slouch her way around either. Getting mugged would not help their case and would definitely expose at least her when she took down her attacker. And there would be no way to retrieve her nearly two hundred pound 'dog' as she went. No one would buy that.

  Best not to get mugged at all. She adjusted her stance a little and walked as slow as she reasonably could past the compound.

  Donovan had beaten her there, as planned. He sat at the fence, looking in, one paw batting at the chain link as though he saw something he wanted. One of the soldiers came up and started talking to him, the way people do to dogs. She only heard snippets since Donovan was adamant about there being no recording or listening devices on him.

  "Are you hungry, fellow?"

  Donovan cocked his head, his ears perking.

  He looked like a wolf. Just not an actual species that Eleri had ever found in nature. Then again, he was definitely part of evolution, just not the documented part.

  She watched out of the corner of her eye as he was offered part of a fast food burger and took it from the man's dirty hands. Eleri fought a shudder. She couldn't look like she was paying any attention. Unsure if she was more offended by the dirt or the quality of food, she walked on. Like a dog, Donovan had a stomach that could handle anything. Probably even raw meat, though she'd never seen him eat it.

  She was a believer now, that was certain.

  When she was out of sight and hearing, she tucked herself into a doorway and peeled the jacket. Turning it inside out, and using the reversible color, she slid back into it. This time she added a ball cap. Not her usual style, but she couldn't blow their cover and she had to be in visual contact with Donovan. Which she wasn't right now.

  Ducking out of the doorway, she let her hands hang loose and made a short loop around the block, coming to the compound on the other side this time. As she passed by, she saw Donovan was inside.

  Shit. They didn't have a contingency for that.

  5

  Eleri spent the night in the small rental car.

  After her third pass by the compound, it became clear that Donovan had been adopted by the group. That was probably the best scenario, but not one they'd planned for.

  The first time they’d come, the only way in appeared to be up and over. Unless Donovan had levitation skills she didn't know about, there was an opening in the fence that she hadn't been able to see.

  Donovan had clearly not levitated into the compound. She knew this only because no one made any exclamations about a flying dog. She'd seen some strange things, and she'd
lived some more. Then she'd been surprised by the world all over again after joining the NightShade division.

  At least animal control couldn't grab him from inside the compound. The vets wouldn't let them. So she moved the car to a nearby parking structure and twiddled away her time. She watched the GPS tracker and saw that Donovan was still inside the small fenced square. Occasionally, she managed a visual check and twice did a drive-by.

  Though a few slept, most of the vets were awake when she passed. It was four a.m. before the GPS moved. Jumping up, Eleri tried to decide how to follow him without being caught. Some of these guys were ex-Special Forces, so there was a good probability that she'd already been made, but she couldn't leave Donovan out on his own.

  She put the jacket and the ball cap back on and made her way out the far end of the parking structure. Managing to cross one block away, she held the tablet close to her side, needing it to be able to check in on Donovan if she couldn't see him.

  From the cross street, she spotted him following one of the soldiers until the man got a few feet ahead and Donovan ducked into an alleyway.

  Shit. She couldn't look like she was watching, but she needed to see if the soldier let Donovan go or tried to follow him. Eleri checked the tablet. The dot stayed motionless in one spot for a few minutes. He was waiting for her.

  Turning right at the next block she made a square and headed back to the car. Less than five minutes later she'd pulled up near the dot on the map and gotten out of the car. As she watched, the 'wolf' came forward and she climbed out to let him into the back seat.

  Once they were in the car, she drove off, taking a longer route out of the downtown area. Eleri did not want to drive past the veterans area again.

  She could have thrown him a blanket, told him to change in the back seat, but she didn't have a blanket. In this age of cameras everywhere, someone could catch a video glimpse of the amazing transformation Donovan could make. So she drove him home and was grateful for the high fence around the back of the little house.

  Once through the back door, Donovan beelined for his room and zipped back out again, still wolf. This time he clenched a towel in his mouth. He managed to close the bathroom door behind himself and as Eleri listened, she heard the water come on in the tub.

  That meant he'd already changed. She wondered what had happened while he was out that had him racing into the shower, but she barely managed to eat a bowl of cereal before he was emerging from the lone bath. The towel was clutched around his hips, water dripping onto the old, hard wood floor. But he seemed to be breathing easier.

  Eleri asked.

  "They treated me like a house dog. Hugging me and . . ." His voice was low, a bit distressed for someone usually as reserved as Donovan.

  "That's bad because they were homeless? Smelly? Dirty?" That seemed odd. The man liked the smell of dead bodies.

  He shook his head, affirming her theory but leaving her with nothing to go on. His shoulders pulled up in distaste, his brows furrowed. "They petted me. Called me 'doggy'."

  "The women?" She hadn't seen more than just a few, and hadn't seen any of them tonight.

  "The men!"

  That pulled her back. "It was too homo-erotic?"

  "No." He sighed at her. "It was people touching me. I don't care who or what they are. But they touched me. They scratched my ears and stroked me and I was supposed to act like I liked it." His shudder was visible even as he declared the conversation over by turning and disappearing into the back bedroom.

  The very thought gave Eleri pause for a moment. She'd been hugged as a child, loved, petted. It didn't bother her until after her sister had gone missing. Even then, she was still hugged—too tightly maybe, but held nonetheless.

  She'd gotten glimpses of Donovan's father, seen things she shouldn't have seen. She was willing to bet that if Donovan had ever been hugged it was by his mother. And his mother had died when he was very young.

  He was back out, dressed and drinking a beer, before she could finish the thought.

  Leaning back in the blue painted wood chair, bottle in hand, hair wet, feet bare, he looked like a normal man. He was anything but. Eleri took in the differences.

  His chest, which she'd just seen, was a bit hairy—not concerningly so, but more than normal. Even the tops of his feet had a fine coating of slick hair. His long nose looked like a normal human facial feature, but it was that length that allowed it to broaden, become the face of the wolf. She'd seen it on his father and, shockingly, later on her friend Wade, too. But she pushed the scientific curiosity aside—difficult as that was to do—and asked him the other thing under her skin.

  "Did you get good intel?" He'd been in there for close to six hours.

  "Yes." Tapping his forefinger against the tabletop while he thought, he laid out what he'd heard. "Most of it was crap. Probably about ninety percent was how to get a new, better tent, or where to bathe. Should they let the new lady join. . .? They talked about Rollins for a good bit before I realized it was him they were talking about."

  At that, Eleri perked up. "Go on."

  "They're worried about him. Think he's not right in the head. Ozzy said he felt like a traitor, but he had his doubts about what Rollins was up to. Didn't like the chatter he talked about. He set that woman 'Walter' on Rollins’ tail. So Walter is going to see if she can find out what the man is up to as well."

  "Wow." Eleri leaned back. Poor Donovan had to sift through loads of crap. He couldn't even steer the conversation, and he'd let them pet him. "You did good work. I'm sorry about the petting."

  He shrugged as though he'd let it go, but she could tell he hadn't really.

  "There's more." He took another pull from the beer, his eyes heavy. They'd both sleep deeply after this. "Walter told Ozzy that his suggestion she seduce Rollins was batshit, that Rollins was still desperately in love with his wife. There was some conversation about Alyssa after that—and they called her Alyssa the Bitch. They think she's turned him away."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah, the way they talked about her, it was ongoing."

  Eleri felt the implication sink in. "So they have been seeing each other. We thought so."

  "Good to get confirmation." He tipped the beer again, only to find it was already empty. Eleri saw his surprise, but he just thunked the bottle to the table with the movements of a man short on sleep, and spilled more information. "Alyssa is giving him money—there's a mutual understanding about his benefits coming to her and his taking a small part. They also said Rollins wasn't doing so hot these past few weeks and they wondered if he'd stopped seeing his shrink."

  "Holy shit. You think he was seeing Gardiner all the way until Gardiner died?"

  Donovan shrugged. "They seemed to think so. At least they thought he'd been seeing someone recently and that a few weeks ago that might have changed. So it's a good guess."

  Another revelation, another tighter tie between Rollins and the death of the doctor. No wonder he wouldn't come in to talk to them. There was a very good chance he wasn't just someone of interest but the suspect.

  Eleri's phone buzzed just then and she spared it a quick look. "It's Vasquez. Says she has something for us."

  "What?" Donovan looked at her oddly. "Why is she contacting you in the middle of the night?"

  It was winter in LA. While there was no snow, the morning light still came later. Eleri held the phone up to show him. "It's seven-thirty."

  Donovan forged his way through two hours of sleep before Eleri knocked on his door. He threw the covers aside with the harsh movements of a pissed-off kid and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  "Eleri?" He called out. "Why do we have to go?"

  "Marina has something for us."

  It was 'Marina' now, huh?

  They'd been up until seven-thirty. The alarm clock was glaring at him, and he remembered something about live people from medical school—they needed seven to eight hours of sleep each night. He called that out to his partner who hollered back, "You
aren't people."

  "Neither are you!" he yelled back.

  Well crap. Now he was awake.

  And his mouth felt weird. It took a moment to realize that he never yelled at people. He didn't interact with them enough to get that worked up. When he did, he held it in check. He'd seen his father snarl and rage enough to scare people, enough to almost reveal what he was.

  Donovan wondered now if he and his father had lived alone because no one would have them. Aidan Heath had a nasty temper. Donovan had sworn not to repeat it, and here he was, yelling at his partner as he woke up.

  She must have been in the hallway, her voice sounded very close. "No, we aren't people, we're agents."

  He opened the door to find her standing there, dressed, drinking something from a cup and smiling. Bitch. He almost growled, but as always he fought down the urge. Instead he said, "Vasquez better have something good for us."

  An hour later he stood in the office, leaning against the wall because he still thought he might fall back asleep if he sat down. Vasquez didn't seem to notice. Instead she was pulling out files and opening envelopes.

  She didn't mince words. "I subpoenaed Rollins' military records a while ago. With him being Special Forces, it took a while to get here."

  The young agent spread several pages out on the table. "As you can see, a lot of it is redacted."

  Eleri frowned and leaned forward. She was sitting at the table; she was awake. "So some of this is classified?"

  "To a certain level—meaning ours. And some of it is apparently above our pay grade."

  The womens' words passed in front of him and Donovan felt like he was just a little behind. Dear God, he needed more sleep. Usually, changing was refreshing to him. But usually he went for a run in his own woods or recently on the beach at FoxHaven. Last night had not been a release of any kind. His skin still crawled just a little bit, and he was afraid he was going to have to do it again.

  He was thinking about that, not the matter at hand, when he heard Vasquez say, "His release is weird."