by Lyla Oweds
She froze, and the air between the rooms seemed to still.
“Accidents happen.” But Gregory wasn’t finished. “What I’m curious to know is this, how did a little girl drag her sister’s body out, miles from home, without anyone knowing. And why would that be your first response in an accident? Unless, of course, it wasn’t an accident at all.”
Mrs. Estrada growled. “How dare you—”
“It is true that Stacy DuClaw died from a head wound.” Gregory waved his hand in the air. “But most of the injury was closer to her face and left temple. It was suspected that she was struck from the front. Forensics might not have been great fifty years ago, but they could tell that much at least. Why was this never investigated?”
“She was going to ruin everything!” Mrs. Estrada’s chest heaved as she leaned forward, and her eyes flashed as she glared at Gregory. Without Michael’s presence, she would have surely attacked her questioner. “I couldn’t allow her to abandon her home, not for them.”
Gregory sighed. “Mrs. Estrada—”
“I killed her.” Mrs. Estrada’s voice came out a growl, so low I’d almost missed it. “You’re right. I killed my sister.”
My heart pounded in my ears, echoing beside the callous confession as it reverberated in my head.
“But I wasn’t the only one who felt betrayed,” she continued, seemingly unable to stop now. “Stacy fell, hit the back of her head. It knocked her out. At first, I tried to wake her up. But, as I looked at her, laying there…” Her face twisted, and fists clenched on the table in front of her. “Father had been redoing the outside of the house, some supplies had been left out. It was easy. I found a brick, and I made it so she’d never be able to hurt anyone for her selfishness.”
“You killed your sister,” Gregory repeated, tone mild. “How did you move her… How did you clean the scene…”
“Darren MacClure.” Mrs. Estrada glanced away. “I’d wandered, I’m not sure what I was planning, really, but then I saw Darren. He’d also spoken to his brother. He knew what was happening.” Her voice softened slightly. “I told him what I did. How I saved us all. And he helped me move the body.”
She was a psychopath! She wasn’t even remotely sorry.
“I wanted to burn her,” Mrs. Estrada continued. “It was Darren’s idea to put her somewhere she be found. He claimed they’d never stop looking otherwise. He knew his brother, and said Christian would never give up. He needed closure.”
There was a short pause, expectant, before she spoke again. “I half-expected him to grieve, it would have been what he deserved. But Stacy was nothing to him. As soon as Christian found his mate, he moved on. It would have killed her to see this, if she’d been alive. So my actions were an act of mercy.”
“So…” Gregory’s voice was mild, as if he hadn’t just heard this old woman admit to killing her sister. “That’s all very well but how did you two manage to hide it all these years?”
If I hadn’t started watching her again, listening to her steady heartbeats, I would have missed it. The skip in the rhythm of her heart, the slight intake of her breath.
But when she replied, her tone was the same. “I just told you how.”
“No.” Gregory tapped his finger on the table. “You told us how you did it, and who helped. You remain in contact with Darren MacClure today, it seems. It was Darren who told you that people would be looking into the crime scene. And it was you who went around your brother-in-law to set up a guard for anyone who came looking around. The wolves that patrolled Silver Moon’s lands were hired by you.”
Mrs. Estrada was staring at Gregory, hatred etched deep into her expression.
Gregory sighed, but wasn’t perturbed by her lack of response. “There’s something else that concerns me, though. Something that I don’t understand. I find it hard to believe that no one suspected that this was a pack issue. In fact, it almost seems as though efforts were extended to divert all attention away from either. Oscar DuClaw might not have suspected Christian MacClure, but surely someone questioned it. It’s odd at all the blame was shifted to Timothy Bigelow instead.”
This time she couldn’t keep the waver out of her voice. “What are you saying?”
“Someone else knows. Someone who investigated the case. Someone who made certain to point the suspicion away from your involvement at all. Timothy Bigelow was the scapegoat, and you do have a lot of anger for him. What did you promise them?”
She grew paler with every word.
Gregory cocked his head to the left, the way he did when he was confident about something. “Would you like me to say who it was, or should you?”
A hateful glimmer entered her eyes, and a hint of panic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” This time when Gregory spoke, his attention flickered to the one-way mirror. It was only for half a moment, but was enough to cause the hair on my arms to rise. And then it was over, and his gaze was on Victoria once again. “I did some research of my own, and I couldn’t help but notice that a fresh-faced lawyer had assigned himself to your case. He even helped with the fieldwork, which most lawyers were wont to do.”
“Maybe he was excited for the opportunity?” Mrs. Estrada reeked of discomfort, and she glanced at the door.
But she couldn’t escape, and she knew it. And Gregory didn’t let up. “I also find it interesting that instead of being interviewed by a single police officer, the only person you ever spoke to for the entirety of this case, was Edward Cole.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Edward Cole?” Her laugh was strangely high pitched. “You’re mistaken. The only person to interview me was a man named—”
“Juda Webb,” Gregory interrupted. “Juda Webb is one of Edward Cole’s pseudonyms. But I’m certain you knew that already, considering you meet with him once a month.”
Michael threaded his fingers through mine, his presence the only thing keeping me upright. And I knew I should be angry that no one had given me any sort of warning, but right now the only thing pulling me back from drowning was the feel of his skin against my own.
But still, damn them for not warning me.
“W-what are you talking about?” Mrs. Estrada’s confidence had faltered. Now she was all nerves.
“Why is he keeping this secret for you? Why is he helping you?” Gregory asked. “You were virtually untraceable for many years, and even your Alpha let you go. That doesn’t happen lightly. All records show that Judge Cole was involved in every step of the way. But the question is, how does he benefit?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated.
“We need your cooperation.” This time it was Mr. Kohler who spoke.
Her eyes snapped toward him. “Cooperation?”
“What is he asking you to do for him?” Gregory leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. “You already know you’re going to prison for the rest of your life. There’s no way around it. Adding a few more crimes to the list isn’t going to harm you. But you can take him down with you. First, there’s blackmail. But what else—”
“I’m done.” Victoria pushed back into her seat, pulling her sweater around her. But despite the fear emanating from her scent, her face was a deadly calm. “I killed my sister, and I knew what I was doing when I did it. Darren DuClaw helped me hide the body. I lied to the police, and I tampered with evidence. And Darren and I worked together to have the intruders on Alpha MacClure’s lands disposed of. But that is the extent of my crimes.”
“Mrs. Estrada.” Gregory sighed. “You don’t need to be afraid of Judge Cole. He cannot hurt you. Work with us, and we’ll—”
“That is the extent of my crimes.” Her voice rang with a finality which bade no argument. “So unless you have any proof other than coincidence and conjecture, I suggest you make your arrest. I await judgement.”
She wasn’t going to turn on Edward, and there was no way to convince her otherwise.
; But why?
The look on her face—it wasn’t one of panic, or even defeat. Her eyes were eerily similar to prey on the verge of defeat. It was such a stark contrast to the woman she’d been before Edward was mentioned that my stomach twisted.
Why was she so scared of him? Why did the thought of turning on him cause her to give up hope?
I wasn’t sure, but rather than feeling any sort of triumph at the fact that I was finally, finally beginning to gather clues about Edward’s corruption, I felt sick.
For the first time in my life, I wondered if it was even possible to succeed.
Victoria Estrada was arrested shortly thereafter and sentenced to spend the rest of her life in prison. Darren MacClure, as well, although when he arrived for his sentencing, he was already a defeated man.
After events came to light, Blake had apparently cut him out of the pack. When that fate isn’t something of a personal choice, like with me, the physical and mental effects could be quite severe. As evidenced by Darren’s dead-man-walking routine.
But they went to prison, and with the mystery behind Stacy DuClaw’s death solved and justice served, I should have been feeling relief, or at least a sense of accomplishment. After all, this was the sort of work that I expected to live for.
I knew that life didn’t always have a happy ending, of course. But I’d thought that with evidence pointed in his direction, someone—especially Chief Conner—would give Edward Cole a second glance. But no one outside of my team and my quintet seemed to care at all.
No one saw the connection or even suspected Edward Cole. And that was the most concerning thing of all.
Every day that passed without closure caused my anxiety to grow. Surely, we’d had enough evidence to cause someone to suspect him? Why was no one doing anything?
The man seemed to be untouchable, and it didn’t make any sense.
And it wasn’t just me, but the entire team seemed disillusioned. But no one wanted to be the first to bring it up. Michael, Gregory, and I worked listlessly, pushing papers for the other departments while we waited for Mr. Kohler to bring us our next case—or news of if we’d have one at all. The end of my month trial was nearing too, and I’d yet to receive word whether my internship would be turned into something more.
At home, things didn’t fare much better. Though we continued to live together, I hadn’t had a single date with Gregory or Michael since the case had been cracked, and Caleb had completely fallen off the face of the Earth. Which, considering the prophecy, was probably a good thing. Now was not the time to tempt fate.
On the other hand, Caleb’s absence wasn’t helping my nerves one bit. What was he up to? Unlike Gregory, who was a bit more self-sufficient, Caleb was completely unable to take care of himself—
“Are you thinking about my idiotic brother again?” Gregory’s voice broke through my musings. When our gazes locked, his serious expression crumbled, and he sighed. “Gloria, he is fine. Caleb is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”
“He was already hurt once because of me.” Worry nibbled at me, a constant gnashing on my nerves. “What if he’s looking into Edward Cole himself? I don’t want anyone getting hurt or dying because of me.”
Gregory’s brows furrowed, but before he could speak, Michael interrupted. He rolled his chair between us, his expression as imposing as I’d ever seen it.
“In hindsight, I shouldn’t have said anything to you at all.” There was a tone of command lacing his voice now. “Gloria, you cannot change the inevitable. Worrying about the future is going to do nothing but cause you to not enjoy the moments that you have now.”
I frowned at him, willing my racing pulse to calm. “If you hadn’t told me, I would hate you.”
Michael’s lips thinned. “Gloria—”
“I would hate even the memory of you for doing that to me,” I interrupted him, the shame of desperation causing my words to flow freely. “It’s manipulative. And it’s degrading. As I’ve already explained to Gregory, if you want to be in a relationship, you will treat me as an equal partner in the relationship. Otherwise, it’s over.”
“If?” The confidence bled from Michael’s tone, and the temperature around us seemed to fall ten degrees. “What do you mean?”
“I will not be in a relationship where I’m not treated as an equal.” I focused on the blurred words in front of me, no longer able to watch either of them. Not while my chest was heavy with this guilt. “You were all raised differently from me. I’m not certain what your expectations for love and romance might be, but I’m more than someone to keep around to look pretty. I respect traditional roles well enough, but I draw the line at you forgetting that I have my own hopes and dreams. If I wanted that sort of relationship, I’d have accepted Blake.”
Testosterone filled the air, and I sucked in my breath. I’d made my point, but it didn’t stop my heartbeat from echoing in my ears.
Was this too much for me to expect?
But it shouldn’t be. It wasn’t a lot to ask. This thing was unconventional—to say the very least. If we were going to break the rules of society, we might as well go all the way.
I wouldn’t be in a relationship where I wasn’t respected.
“Ironically, in the end, it’s been Caleb who has actually treated me as an equal,” I pointed out, holding their chagrined expressions as the chill of my thoughts faded. In all honesty, my admissions now were a bit of a surprise even to myself. I had no idea that their actions had impacted me so deeply. “He’s a sexist moron, but when it came to the job, he didn’t hide things from me either. How could you not tell me about the connection between Edward Cole and Victoria Estrada?”
Shame was heavy in the air, and Michael and Gregory glanced at each other. Neither one daring to speak first, neither one moving toward me.
And I expected it from Gregory, but this time it was Michael who—after a sigh—looked at me, his expression severe. “I apologize.”
“As do I,” Gregory added, nodding.
Michael briefly shot him an annoyed look then returned his attention to me. “We weren’t trying to hurt you. We were trying to protect you. You already had so much to worry about, and Edward is a source of fear for you. But I see now, in hindsight, how our actions could be misconstrued in such a way—”
“Are you sorry or not?” My eyes narrowed at him, my focus zeroing in on the way his fingers nervously tugged at his sleeve. “One second it sounds like you’re apologizing, and the next you’re making excuses. I don’t have time for these games.”
“It’s not a game!” Michael’s fists clenched at his sides, and his voice was steadier than a moment before. “We were wrong—I was wrong. I made a mistake, you are an equal partner in this.” At my stony silence and unwavering expression, the confidence in his face ebbed away.
“Gloria.” Michael’s tone was soft. “You are still our partner… right?”
It was difficult to keep my expression clear. If either of these men had been shifters, surely they’d have heard my heart racing. But, thankfully, they were not.
And despite my better judgement, I wanted to try, even though I knew they’d mess up again. I would probably mess it up again. No one was perfect. But…
The question was, had they learned anything at all?
Only time would tell.
Gregory’s voice shook. “Gloria?”
My palms sweated against my thighs, and my thoughts raced. A plan began to take shape. They wanted to try, and I was willing.
But then we had Michael’s prophecy to consider. I didn’t care what they said, we had to look into this seriously.
However, between the four of us, perhaps we could kill two birds with one stone.
“We’re all going to work on this. We need to join the council and change the laws. We’ll find out what Edward Cole is up to, and we’ll research the prophecy about Michael. We will do it together. And if I ever find out that either one of you are trying to manipulate me, even to protect me, I
will leave you both.” The promise poisoned the room, but it needed to be stated. “So help me, the only person I’ll speak to for the rest of my life will be Caleb.”
The tension in the room was thick, and my breathing heavy. Neither one of them responded at first. Instead, they glanced at each other—communicating in that infuriating way that best friends do.
It took only seconds. However, it felt like eons before their focus returned to me. And Michael, shoulders relaxing, strode across the room and braced his weight against the corner of the desk. “So, you’ll look at the Montgomery Ward catalog then?”
“Michael?” I asked. Was this a promise or not?
“Yes, Gloria, we agree to your terms.” The corner of Michael’s mouth lifted slightly. “We’re nontraditional, so we might as well take it a step further. But, please be gentle while we learn to navigate these unfamiliar waters.”
“We’re not going to get it perfect all the time,” Gregory cut in, resting his chin on his fist. “But we’ll try. I promise.” I had truly thought—on some level—they’d disagree. Then a spark of mischief entered Gregory’s expression. “Besides, there’s no way we can leave you to the tender mercies of my idiot brother.”
“He’s smarter than both of you…” I muttered, glancing at my lap. “So, you really do want to make it official?”
This was really happening. I was entering into a relationship with two men, and probably three, once I spoke to Caleb. The rumors that would go around town…
It was a good thing my family and I were already estranged. Because if I wasn’t already disowned, I would definitely be after this.
“What about Caleb?” I frowned. “The prophecy says three… Do we get him on board with this?”
Gregory’s lips thinned. “Do we have to?”
“Stop with your jealousy.” Michael rolled his eyes. “You knew damn well this day would come. You’re going to have to make your peace with him.”
