by Tasha Black
“I’ll tell Julian you said hi!”
Chapter 13
Grace arrived at the station twenty minutes before the appointed time. The interrogation room was blessedly free of parking meter change today.
She grabbed the Lysol and paper towels from her desk drawer and used them to clean the table top until it shone.
Satisfied, she ran the cleaning supplies back to her desk, helping herself to a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge on her way past.
She sipped it slowly while looking out the single window of the interrogation room at the Haber’s elm tree across from the fire station. The elm’s nearly bare branches twisted in a way that made it look like it was in constant motion, though of course the only movement it actually made was at the microscopic pace of its growth. A classic example of the fact that things weren’t always what they seemed.
“Hello?”
Garrett Sanderson’s voice brought Grace out of her reverie.
“Thank you for coming in again, Mr. Sanderson.”
“Please, dear, it’s Garrett,” he said.
When she looked up at him, he gave her a wolfish wink.
“A good glass in the bishop’s hostel in the devil’s seat…” he said in a sing-song way.
Grace studied him calmly.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was thinking of the treasure that was here before.”
“Is that from a song?” Grace asked.
She knew full well it was Edgar Allen Poe’s Gold Bug. In high school, Grace had been a horror junkie. She moved through Poe and Lovecraft, and into King and Koontz, devouring all the books the librarian threw at her. Finding out she actually lived next to werewolves had been the coolest moment of her formative years.
“A book, actually,” Garrett replied, his tone dipping just to the border of condescension.
Perfect. Let him start off with some false confidence.
“Oh.” Grace wrinkled her nose a bit for good measure.
He sat down gracefully with a pleased look on his face. Once again, he held his cane like a scepter next to his elegantly crossed legs.
Grace smiled back, with practiced guilelessness.
“That is such an interesting cane.” She leaned forward to examine it. “What’s the carving at the head?”
“A wolf.”
“A silver wolf.” Grace nodded. “Does it have any special meaning?”
“It means I can walk without assistance, which isn’t always easy, especially when the weather is foul.”
Okay, so he wasn’t going to play nicely. Grace couldn’t help but think back to how fast the man from the amphitheater had been.
“What exactly is the nature of your injury, Mr. Sanderson?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to your investigation,” he said brusquely.
Grace waited. She was learning that with Garrett Sanderson, the trick was to stay neutral, and let him fill in the blanks.
“Forgive me,” he said almost immediately. “It is an old injury, and I don’t really like to talk about it.”
Grace nodded sagely.
“Fair enough. Do you know Lilliana Atwater?”
Sanderson exhaled through pursed lips.
“Oh dear,” he said. “I suppose this was bound to come out. I should have told you straight away.”
Grace’s heart lurched and she fought to keep her face a mask of calm.
Was he going to confess?
Could it really be that easy?
“I have had some involvement with Miss Atwater,” he said, recrossing his legs.
Nothing was ever that easy.
“What kind of involvement?”
“Romantic,” Garrett said, tenting his fingers over the knob of his cane. “Although that part is over now.”
Again, Grace clamped down her instinct to ask a follow-up.
Garrett rewarded her by spilling, as she had hoped he would.
“I started seeing Lilliana when I first came to town,” he began. “I didn’t know anyone, and she was a bit of an outsider herself, so we connected. Maybe it was her southern hospitality. In any case, it ran its course, or so I thought. When I started spending time with Ms. Epstein-Walker, Miss Atwater wasn’t what you would call agreeable. She started calling me at all hours of the night. I had to block her number. She even started following me around, spying on me, if you will.”
Grace heard Lilliana’s voice in her head, He didn’t know I was there, because I was in the storage closet.
“I was with her the night of Sadie’s accident,” he continued. “I agreed to meet with her, simply to tell her that it was over, and it would be better for both of us if she moved on.”
He paused and smoothed his thumb over the silver head of the wolf on his cane.
“And how did she take that?” Grace asked.
“Not well, I’m afraid. She told me that I wasn’t cooperating, and she was tired of playing nice.”
Those were exactly the words Lilliana had quoted. The problem was, she’d told Grace that Garrett had said them about Sadie.
Grace fought the temptation to use her magic. This would have to be sorted out with good, old-fashioned police work. Fortunately, Grace was very good at that very thing.
“I didn’t think she was serious, or I would have reported it,” Garrett said. “Wait. You don’t think she had something to do with Sadie’s accident, do you?”
“We are still looking into every possibility,” Grace said, keeping her demeanor calm and professional.
“Have you questioned Miss Atwater?”
Though she didn’t need to tell him, Grace was curious to see Sanderson’s reaction.
“Lilliana is missing,” Grace said. “She hasn’t been seen since last night.”
Sanderson’s eyes widened. He rested his cane against the table and placed his palms on its cool surface. For once he remained silent.
Either this was news to him, or he was one hell of a poker player. Grace began to wonder if maybe she had been barking up the wrong tree.
Maybe Lilliana had run because she was afraid to be caught in a lie. Grace was back to square one.
Damn.
“Thank you for your time, Garrett,” Grace said.
She stood abruptly, anxious to be done with the man and back to her investigation. In her haste, she bumped the table, knocking over his cane. Without thinking, she bent to retrieve it for him.
As her fingers grazed the silver wolf’s head, a tidal wave of static washed through her, nearly knocking her off-balance again and reverberating in her head until her teeth ached.
The sensation matched what she had felt in Sadie’s house perfectly.
“Are you alright?” Garrett asked.
He swept the cane out of her hand, releasing her from the hold of the feedback.
“Sure,” Grace said, summoning all her willpower to hide any indication of what she’d just experienced. “I just stood up too fast. Sorry about that. We’ll be in touch if there is any new information.”
Grace smiled tightly and opened the door for the older man.
He gave her an enigmatic smile as he headed out, the tapping of his cane reverberating in the empty hall.
Chapter 14
Erik was having a hard time adjusting.
No matter what else was wrong in the world, everything was right in the hardware store. At least that was what Erik had always believed.
Today every corner of Tarker’s Hollow seemed to be painted in bright colors but was suspiciously devoid of smell. And nowhere was it more obvious than in Hollow Hardware, where the smell of saw dust was thin and two dimensional, and what Erik knew should be the heavy scent of axle grease barely met his consciousness.
Physically, his body was stiff from the wound, but no worse for wear. His senses, however, seemed impossibly dulled. Was this how most people really experienced the world?
Telling MacGregor his wolf was gone had been distasteful, but it was good to have it off his chest and there
was no one else he would trust with it. MacGregor had been the pack’s beta since Ainsley’s father’s tenure as alpha.
Erik and MacGregor both leaned on the counter in a friendly way, like they always did when transacting business or talking about the pack.
“So, Ainsley can fix it?” MacGregor asked tentatively, fiddling with a display of mini-flashlights.
“She’ll find a way. She’s been spending a lot of time working on her magic. She’s training now.” Erik was pretty sure his own concern was evident in his voice, in spite of what he had said.
MacGregor nodded slowly.
“But I don’t want this getting out,” Eric added.
MacGregor slid the flashlight display aside and nodded at him with a serious expression.
“Agreed. If anyone found out, your place in the pack would be in jeopardy.”
MacGregor looked down again, as though he had said too much.
It was irritating as fuck not to be able to know how worried he was by his heartbeat.
The bell at the front of the shop jingled.
Charley Coslaw ducked in. The real estate broker was tall enough to ring the bell a second time with his head if he wasn’t careful.
“Hey Mac!” Charley boomed.
“Charley.”
“How’s business today?” Coslaw asked, slipping a key out of his pocket and handing it over.
“A little slow.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Charley did sound actually sorry. He grabbed two flashlights from the can on the counter and poked around the bin of gardening gloves while MacGregor ground a copy of the key.
“Everything alright with you?” he asked Erik.
“Sure,” Erik replied. Charley was a fixture in town, but he was human, not part of the pack. Erik had used him for a few real estate transactions in town.
Erik thought about asking for Charley’s advice about the EPA hassle on the job site. But his mood was low enough without talking about that right now.
MacGregor rang Charley up.
“Thanks much, Mac,” Charley said. “I’m glad you’re sticking it out. Tarker’s Hollow wouldn’t be the same without the hardware store. It’s an institution.”
With another jingle of the bells he was gone, carrying his purchases in a small paper bag.
“Is business really so bad?” Erik asked.
“The Inn construction slowed us down and we were never really ramped up to begin with.”
Erik glanced through the hardware store’s glass door to see his equipment sitting useless on the empty site across Yale. Traffic had already been sidetracked with an alternate route to the train station when he’d been shut down. God only knew how long this would go on.
“Charley worries about it almost as much as I do,” MacGregor continued. “He’s a good guy. I swear he comes in here ten times a day to copy a key, and he buys other stuff every time he’s in just to keep me going.” MacGregor lowered himself to lean on the counter again and whispered conspiratorially. “Those were ladies’ gardening gloves!”
Erik smiled. Everyone knew Charley was a nice guy. He wondered if Ainsley might go to work with him one day if things ever calmed down with the pack.
Of course, they might not.
It was best to rip off the band-aid.
Erik took a deep breath and tackled the elephant in the room.
“If I can’t get my wolf back, Ainsley will need another mate. For the good of the pack.”
MacGregor cleared his throat.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said. “We need to focus on getting through whatever this new threat is. And figuring out who the lone wolf is. And keeping your little problem a secret until we can fix it. Could be worse.”
“I don’t see how,” Erik said.
The bell jingled again.
They looked up to see a woman in an expensive-looking pewter gray business suit with a stern expression on her face striding purposefully through the door. Shining hair the color of black coffee skimmed her shoulders and perfectly matched her narrowed eyes.
The hardware store was a place of quiet contemplation. Her aggressive energy cut through the ambiance like the machete Erik used to clear the bamboo in his back field.
Erik didn’t recognize her. But MacGregor clearly did. He straightened, pushing himself off the counter swiftly.
Erik followed suit.
“Councilman Winter!” MacGregor said, coming out from behind the counter. “We’re honored to have you, Madam.”
“You should be.” The woman’s tone was as cold as her gaze. “Where can I find Ainsley Connor?”
Shit.
Ophelia Winter.
She was a member of the Federation’s Executive Council and a major bigwig. Erik had heard her name many times.
She wasn’t known as the forgiving sort. And she would not be happy to hear that Tarker’s Hollow’s new alpha was off taking magic lessons.
“Our apologies, Madam,” MacGregor replied. “Our alpha and pack master does not feel it necessary to keep us apprised of her whereabouts. We serve at her convenience.”
A cruel half smile played along the corners of the councilwoman’s thin lips. It seemed she was pleased by MacGregor’s answer.
Relief washed over Erik. MacGregor was quick on his feet.
“Very well, then,” she said. “Show me to my lodgings and send word to her that I require her presence before the night is over.”
Lodgings?
“We haven’t been honored with a visit from the Federation in a generation-” MacGregor began.
“You can stay at my house,” Erik offered. Ainsley had just helped him furnish the guest room. It might be best if the Councilman stayed somewhere they could keep an eye on her.
“This is Erik Jensen,” MacGregor said quietly.
Councilman Winter’s flint gaze moved to Erik. She looked him up and down, openly appraising him. The edge of hunger in her gaze would have roused his wolf in spite of himself. As a man, very much in love with Ainsley Connor, Erik felt decidedly uncomfortable.
“That will do nicely,” she said.
Fuck.
She had already turned on her heel and headed to the door.
“I understand you are in charge of all this unsightly construction,” she said.
“Yes, I am.”
“Excellent, Mr. Jensen. Walk with me, we have matters to discuss.”
Erik threw one helpless look at MacGregor over his shoulder.
MacGregor shrugged almost imperceptibly.
The councilwoman’s heels rapped the sidewalk with every step, reminding Erik of Ainsley’s spiky sandals. They crossed Yale without speaking and arrived at the chain link fence separating the construction zone from the sidewalk.
“Why is this site not operating?”
“The EPA shut us down temporarily. They were tipped off anonymously that the site may have been a habitat for short eared owls.”
“Is that true?”
“No.”
“I’ll look into it. But it could be felicitous. We have need of someone with your skills. Perhaps if you can help us, we can help you with the EPA.”
“Sure. I mean, yes, Madam.”
Ophelia Winter had been studying the machinery. She turned back to Erik with a practiced smile.
“Which way is your house? I’ll explain while we walk.”
Erik indicated the path through the campus to the north end of town and his home.
Ophelia smiled and started off.
“Are you familiar with the Copper Creek pack?” she asked.
“That’s in Jefferson county, right?”
“Exactly. We got word this morning that they are in a state of emergency. There’s been a mining disaster. The whole town is devastated. We need someone with your expertise to get out there right away and get the pack back on its feet.”
Erik nodded quietly. He knew without his wolf senses that he didn’t really have a choice. It was awful t
o think of any pack losing so many members at once. But Ainsley needed him here.
“Most of the pack males were in that mine. The Copper Creek alpha is presumed dead. If you handle the matter well, you could be in the running to take over the pack.”
There was a time in Erik’s life when he would have been pleased at the idea of becoming an alpha. He wasn’t sure if it was the absence of his wolf, or the experience of watching Ainsley tackle pack leadership, but the idea didn’t really appeal to him anymore. And of course, he was Ainsley’s mate and couldn’t be spared.
Though she kept herself pretty busy without him these days.
It certainly didn’t seem wise to address any of this with Ophelia Winter. He nodded and they walked on in silence. Soon enough they reached Erik’s house.
“This is me,” Erik indicated the house.
“Very nice,” Ophelia said.
As they entered the porch, Erik saw Ophelia’s nostrils widen. He figured she must be scenting that there was a female here often. That was good. Hopefully she wouldn’t eat him for lunch.
He opened the front door and led her though the living space to the first floor guest room. It wasn’t large but it was handsomely decorated, thanks to Ainsley. The walls were covered in gleaming chestnut wainscoting. Ainsley had brought over an antique black rocking chair from her own attic and bought an arts and crafts quarter-sawn oak headboard for the bed. The window behind the rocking chair overlooked the trees on the hill that separated Tarker’s Hollow from the borough’s open space and ultimately the neighboring town of Springton.
“You have excellent decorating taste, Erik Jensen,” the councilwoman said, looking around appreciatively and allowing her gaze to rest on him.
“Thank you, Madam, I had help. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“Yes, travel can be such a burden in my position,” Ophelia said, unbuttoning her suit jacket to reveal a creamy satin blouse.
While Erik watched, she slowly opened the top button of the blouse.
“And with the moon waxing, it’s important to get comfortable as often as possible,” she added, giving him a frank look.
Shit.
Ainsley.
“Ainsley may be going for a run,” Erik said. “She often does at this time of the evening. I’m going to fetch her for you before she gets too far out.”
