Howling for Revenge: A Cori Sloane Witchy Werewolf Mystery (Cori Sloane Witchy Werewolf Mysteries Book 1)

by Tegan Maher

  "Yup," I said. "He showed up out of the blue. Hadn't seen or heard from him in twelve years."

  "Then I suggest you let me deal with him," he said. "That way, you don't have to worry about personal baggage interfering with the investigation, and neither do I."

  That was probably for the best, though I didn't think Zach would see it that way. I nodded.

  "Besides, the last thing we need is a trigger-happy dude with no idea what he's gotten himself into," Alex said.

  We'd reached the spot where Tabbie had been killed. "I couldn't agree more. Unfortunately, he's not that easy to persuade. I told him that, and then the night this girl died, I came back here to try to pick up a scent, and he showed up."

  I told him about the incident, and was frustrated all over again by the missed opportunity.

  He huffed out a breath. "Damned interfering civilians. He thinks he's out here helping, doing society a service, but eventually he's going to end up hurt or dead when he runs into something that does more than go bump in the night."

  Stepping off the path and toward the brush line where we'd found Tabbie, I said, "This is where we found Tabitha Young. Same MO. Except I found the fur."

  "Same color as the one your buddy grazed that night?" he asked as he stepped off the path to check it out.

  Irritation shot through me at his use of the word buddy, but I pushed it aside. "Roughly," I said. "If I had to lay a bet, I probably would."

  I thought back to that night, and something clicked in my head. "Though wolf I met wasn't as big as I'd expect the killer to be." I shrugged. "He was big though, so I guess it's possible I misjudged his size one way or anther."

  He reached for the folder, and I handed him the pictures. Again, he flipped through them, moving around so he was viewing the scene from the same angle as the picture he was looking at.

  "What about families?" he asked. "I'd think they'd be all over you by now."

  Lifting a shoulder, I said, "Victoria had no family, and I've talked to Tabbie's mom a couple of times on the phone. Sam talked to her in person. She's older and can't get out much. Tabbie was a midlife surprise."

  "Speaking of Sam," Alex said, "Where does he fit into all of this? How much does he know about you?"

  I smiled. "Sam knows everything about me. He's an old family friend. Dated one of mom's friends for a while in high school, though he doesn't have anything much nice to say about my mom now."

  "Why not?" He bent down closer to examine the print. It was faded to almost nothing since that part of the trail wasn't sheltered by trees as much as the other spot.

  Again, he drew in a deep breath, leaning closer to the spot where I'd found the fur. Frustrated, he shook his head. "Still nothing."

  "Yeah, same thing as last time. I haven't had a chance to examine the spot again. I'd thought about doing it last night, then Kat got sick."

  He stood and brushed his hands off. "Yeah, what happened to her? I don't think I've ever seen a sick vampire."

  "Poisoned," I said, walking back to the trail. "Both of them. Fortunately, Monica—the witch who was with us—knew a cure. I may as well tell you that Sean Castle, the vampire the town's named after, is back in town. He knows about it and is checking into it himself. It seems it was either the server, or the bloody mary mix."

  "Who had access to the mix?"

  I kicked myself because I hadn't thought to ask that, then fired off a text to Kat, asking her the same question. I also wanted to make sure she was okay. She was likely asleep since it was the middle of the day, but I wanted to know as soon as she woke up. "I assume the bartender, the server. The dishwasher, probably. The cook. I need to follow up on that, if Sean hasn't already."

  He drew his brows together. "You're content to let a civilian vampire lead the investigation?"

  "Sugar," I said, "It's not a matter of being content. It's a matter of not being able to stop him, of respecting vampire law, and of being willing to let him use his considerable resources to get to the bottom of it."

  "What if he gets the wrong person?"

  I puffed out a dry laugh. "Sean Castle doesn't get the wrong person. He's fair, he's smart, and he's respected. He'll make damned sure somebody's guilty before he takes action, but he will find them and take action."

  He nodded, understanding. Because we had so many different sub-cultures, it was unrealistic—and to be honest, dangerous—to expect everybody to abandon systems that had been developed over centuries.

  Most cultures followed similar rules—take care of your own and punish rule-breakers accordingly. The humans in my constituency were the only segment who looked solely to me to keep law and order. Fortunately for them, all of the other species had strict laws about harming humans or my job would have been much more complicated than it was.

  Shifters and vampires already had laws—effective, enforced laws—in place to deal with every crime imaginable. I wasn't going to question it as long as those rules were fair, applied equally, and the punishment fit the crime.

  And as far as I was concerned, somebody had poisoned my friends, most likely in an attempt to kill at least one of them, and Sean would find them and deal with them much more efficiently than the human justice system would.

  I was okay with that.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  WHEN WE GOT BACK TO my Jeep, I checked my messages. Billy Braxton hadn't called me, and I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking.

  "You think you were wrong about this kid?" Alex asked.

  I pinched my lips together. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me, but it's not looking good."

  "Maybe we should head out to his place. See what's up."

  "Yeah. If I was wrong about him, I don't wanna give him too much of a head start." I turned the Jeep around and headed toward the trailer.

  When we pulled in, neither his car nor Amanda's was there, so we got out and took a look around. Alex wrinkled his nose as I pounded on the door. "I'm getting a buzz just standing here."

  "I know. The last time I was here, it was awesome. They'd tried to cover it up with air freshener."

  "So what now? Are you going inside?"

  I glanced around the neighborhood and noticed an older lady in a flowered house dress sweeping the same spot on her porch over and over and casting what I'm sure she thought were overt glances in our direction.

  "Nah," I said, keeping an eye on my feet as I navigated the rickety stairs. The last thing I needed was tetanus. "Let's see what Ms. Nosy Neighbor has to say."

  He grinned. "Gotta love small-town America."

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye while smiling at the woman. "It's a pain, but she probably knows more about them than she does about her own kids."

  She gave up the pretense of sweeping and leaned on her broom as we approached.

  "Hi," I said when we were almost to her. "I'm Sheriff Cori Sloane and this is ... Special Agent Alex Dixon. We're looking for the young man who lives over there. Do you know when he was there last?"

  She gave me a cursory glance and turned her attention to Alex, giving him a semi-flirtatious smile. One of her front teeth was missing, and it took everything in my power to keep a passive face when she gave him a once-over. It seemed it would be best to let him take the lead.

  "Special Agent, huh?" she said, pulling herself up straight and patting her curlers.

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, glancing at the neat rows of petunias lining the porch. "You have a beautiful lawn. I'm sure you keep a close eye on the neighborhood, and it sure would be helpful if you could share any information. Miss ..."

  She snorted, then shook her head and leaned back on her broom. "Silver-tongued devil. You remind me of my Albert, Lord rest his ornery soul. Handsome as all get-out, and smooth, too." She held out her hand. "Agnes Ketterling. I reckon you're lookin' for the boy, am I right?"

  "We are," Alex said, shaking her hand. When she frowned, he was quick to add, "But he's not in any trouble, at least not yet. We just need
to talk to him."

  She nodded, and her face sagged, sad. "About poor Tabbie, no doubt. You ain't went and got it in your head he done it, have you?"

  "Why would you ask that?" I asked.

  "I just figured, since he up and left in the middle of the night after you was here, that he musta been in some kinda trouble."

  She shook her head. "All three of 'em were such good kids. Billy mowed my lawn every week, and Tabbie and Mandy would come over and help me dust and run the sweeper. I have problems haulin' it out of the closet anymore, and my eyesight ain't what it used to be either."

  "I think Mandy smoked some pot, but Tabbie and Billy were straight. Never did see either one of 'em stoned."

  She grinned at the startled expression on my face. "Honey, I'm seventy-one years old. I was at Woodstock—the original one—and spent a couple months in Haight-Ashbury in the sixties. I've worn daisy chains, and protested wars, though I ain't never disrespected a soldier in my life. Punched a girl in the mouth once for doin' it, though. Course, that was all before I settled down and started my family. Still, I was smokin' pot before their parents were born."

  Alex coughed to cover a laugh, and Alice's eyes sparkled, then she sobered as she remembered what we'd been discussing.

  "It's a damned shame about Tabbie. She was gonna make somethin' of herself, that one."

  "So you don't think Billy could have done it?"

  She heaved a sigh. "The kid was hidin' somethin'. Every time I asked about his family, even somethin' generic like where he was from, he'd skip all around a real answer, and Tabbie told me they were havin' some problems cause he wouldn't take her to meet them."

  Leaning the broom against the outside of the house, she settled into a one of two little chairs on her porch and rubbed her knee as if it ached. "I'd love to say there's no way he coulda, but you just never know."

  I handed her a card. "If he comes back, will you let us know?" I asked. "I just want to ask him some questions."

  She quirked a brow. "That's what the law always says."

  "I know. But in this case, it's the truth."

  Looking into my face, she seemed to be taking my measure. I must have passed muster because she nodded. "If he comes back around, I'll call."

  "Thank you." Alex smiled at her again, and we left, but before we made it out of the yard, she called, "You know about what he is, right?"

  I glanced at Alex out of the corner of my eye before turning slowly back to her. Surely she didn't mean what we thought she did.

  Again, she studied me, then held up her hand. "I see you do. It ain't no nevermind how I know, but it's the only reason I'll call you; otherwise, I know there's no way he'da done it. But he fits the physical bill, so I trust you'll figure it out and give him a fair shake."

  "Yes, ma'am," I said, and turned back toward my car.

  "Well," Alex said. "Every time I think I have people pegged, I meet someone like her."

  "No kidding. The whole conversation was almost surreal. But we got confirmation from another source that all was not well in Young Love Land." I glanced at my watch; we only had an hour before the meeting with the clan leaders.

  While we were buckling up, I called the lumberyard where he worked. His boss said he'd called in the day before claiming he had a family emergency and didn't know when he'd be back.

  It was official. Billy Braxton was in the wind.

  My next call was to Dani, who hadn't had any luck figuring out who he was, but she said she'd keep at it. I asked her to check into Zach and figure out where he'd been and what he'd been doing for the last twelve years.

  That would be much easier, considering he was a human. Bureaucracy was sometimes a wonderful thing.

  I punched the disconnect on my Bluetooth dash, and turned to Alex. "It looks like we're gonna have to change tacks."

  "So it does. Luckily, I'm used to getting creative."

  Barking out a laugh, I said, "It's probably a good thing you didn't say anything like that in front of Mrs. Ketterling, or you'd have a date."

  "Go ahead. Laugh," he said, smug. "I'll tell Ms. Ellen and your mother you were mean to me."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "Funny. You didn't strike me as a tattletale."

  He grinned that the cat that ate the canary. "I'm not. I'm a winner."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ON THE WAY, THE SKY turned leaden, and the electricity in the air was almost palpable. The wind was picking up when we pulled into the bar parking lot, and I figured we'd missed the afternoon downpour by the skin of our teeth.

  We hadn't had time to grab lunch, so when we stepped into Sully's, the tangy smell of wings and fried foods made my stomach growl.

  "I feel your pain," Alex said when his stomach followed suit. I gave my eyes a minute to adjust to the dim interior, then headed to my stool at the bar. Sully often joked he was gonna put a nameplate on it for me.

  "Ye doin' a beer or a tea, lass?" Sully asked, lumbering from the far end of the bar to where we were sitting.

  "Better make it a tea," I said. "No telling when I'm gonna need my wits about me, and at this point, I don't know if I'd stop at just one."

  "Rough day, eh?"

  I rolled my head on my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension in my shoulders. "You have no idea."

  He raised a brow, and I lifted one corner of my mouth in a wry half-smile. "Or maybe you do."

  Turning to Alex, he said, "And you must be the watchdog—pardon the pun—Miranda set on my lass here."

  Alex frowned. "Not exactly. I'm here to help. I don't report to Miranda, except in the most general of terms."

  I raised my brows, surprised. I'd assumed he was there to watch and report back, as well as help.

  "Well ye can report back that she's doin' as fine a job as anybody in her shoes could. Now what'll ye be havin'?"

  "I will have a beer. Guinness if you've got it."

  Sully snorted. "Course I got Guiness. What's a bar without it?"

  While he poured our drinks, I asked Alex, "What do you mean you only report to my mother in the most general of terms?"

  He lifted a shoulder. "I'm contracted by the pack, not your mother's direct employee. I report vital information, and I determine what's vital."

  "But my mother is the pack."

  "No, technically your father is pack leader. We see eye to eye. Your mother tends to be ... short-sighted."

  I chewed on that for a minute. "She also tends to get what she wants regardless of who she plows over to get it. I'm not immune to that, and right now, she thinks I'm failing."

  He shook his head. "Actually, she doesn't. She's worried about you."

  I scoffed. "Miranda Sloane doesn't worry about anything other than appearances and keeping the pack united."

  Dipping his head, he said, "That's true to a certain degree, because it has to be. However, she specifically put it out that you requested my presence."

  I wrinkled my brow. "Why would she do that?"

  He sucked in a big breath, then blew it out, shaking his head. "Don't make the mistake of being myopic. She wanted it to appear as if you made the call to bring in a specialist."

  "That's the second time you've referred to yourself like that. What, exactly, is your specialty?"

  Another big sigh. "You don't make things easy, do you?"

  "It seems easy to me," I said. "If we're working together, I need to know what your skill set is."

  He paused, and I wondered if he was pulling together a lie. Instead, he turned and looked me in the eye. "Like you, I have witch blood. Though I'm half, rather than a quarter. My mother is a witch."

  I cocked a brow. "Convenient," I said. "How did that happen?"

  "Uh, if you don't know ..."

  I felt the blush creep up my cheeks and scowled at him. "I don't need the birds and the bees speech, thanks. I meant, how did your mom and dad manage to come together to begin with? It's not exactly a traditional pairing."

  "It's not as uncommon in other places as i
t is here, and it wasn't a planned thing. My dad was the best man at a wedding, and my mom was the maid of honor."

  I did my best not to laugh, but failed miserably. "So you're the result of a wedding hookup?"

  He glared at me. "Go ahead. Laugh. But when my skills save your ass, you'll be grateful for the tradition."

  Sully overheard the conversation and smiled, his gaze far away. I met one of the most talented lasses I ever had the pleasure of—"

  I held up my hand. "If you like me even a little bit, please don't finish that sentence."

  He guffawed and held his hand out to Alex. "Pleased to make yer acquaintance, lad. I trust ye have my girl's back." He narrowed his eyes. "Should anything happen to her on your watch ..."

  "Hey!" I said. "I'm not exactly a damsel in distress, here. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself!"

  "I wasn't implyin' otherwise, girlie. Just that some jobs need more hands than others."

  A man who could have passed for Sully's twin if not for his blond hair stepped through the door, squinting as he did so.

  "Liam!" Sully boomed. "Long time, no see, brother." He went around the bar and the two men shook, then went in for what looked like a crushing one-armed hug. "Come over and meet our fine Sheriff."

  He introduced me to the man, who had an infectious smile that I suspected was always near the surface. I introduced Alex.

  "Liam is our den leader. He'll be representin' the local bear shifters. We're still waitin' for Donald Wilson, the leader of the coyote shifters, and Reina Foster, the alpha of the badger clan."

  I raised a brow. "When you decide to call a meeting, you do it right. I only expected to meet people from your clan, not that I'm complaining."

  Sully shook his head. "Girlie, it's time to pull together. We need to stop the murders, both for the safety of all, but also to protect our region. We don't want to draw any more unwanted attention than we already have."

  Within a few minutes, a small, sinewy woman strode through the door, a single white streak running through her glossy black hair. She'd just introduced herself when a wiry red-headed man arrived.