What else could she SAY? No, he couldn’t tag along? She was staying at his house, not to mention he was related to the one man who’d helped her when she needed it the most. She could give Rhys an inch and worst case, he screwed up, at least then she’d have a good reason to kick his butt to the curb.
A quick phone call to the station with the ladies’ full names, thanks to their bar tabs, and she had all of the women’s addresses.
Rhys pulled up outside of Emily’s townhouse and killed the ignition. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but it was all part of the job. She tilted her head, watching a man carry cardboard boxes out of Emily’s home. His lips moved while he mumbled to himself. He hefted one of the boxes and tossed it into the bed of a truck before disappearing back inside the condo and out of sight.
Stepping out of the car, she unhooked the badge attached to her waist. She held it up, flashing it at the same man carrying another box out of the door. She sniffed the air, expecting nothing but the scent of a human. Admittedly, she was caught off guard smelling the cougar’s scent coming from the shifter.
“Shifter Investigation Division, I’d like to ask you some questions.”
The man’s face remained blank while tossing the box into the back of the truck. “SID? What can I do for you?”
In general, cougars were a laid-back bunch unless someone was trying to take something they considered theirs. This guy was emitting a sweaty stench she knew all too well. It wasn’t from hefting the boxes. These assholes were strong. It was the smell of fear. The ungodly odor smelled like hot tar being paved in hundred-degree weather on a sunny day. His eyes darted from hers to Rhys and his brothers who were standing behind her, all of them patiently waiting and watching his reaction.
“Can we take this inside?” She gestured toward the open door.
He chewed his lip, and his eyes shifted toward the green forest beyond the apartments.
“Don’t do it.” She raised a challenging brow. “A cougar’s top speed is around fifty miles per hour. You won’t win. Trust me; I’m faster.”
It took him only five seconds and one deep breath before he gave up on the idea of taking off. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
All four of them followed the cougar back into the townhouse. Her eyes darted around the apartment, taking in all the feminine attributes, the pictures on the wall, the color-coordinated throw rug and matching couch pillows.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Martin Shuman,” he answered crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his gaze on the men with her. Stupid cat. Didn’t he know she was the most deadly in their group?
“Well, Martin…” She glanced around at some of the boxes piled around the house. “We came to ask you some questions about Emily Fisher. Is she your girlfriend?”
“That two-bit whore?” he spat out.
“From the looks of things, I guess you had a rocky relationship?”
He dropped his fisted hands to his sides. “I told her the next time she didn’t come home I was leaving….and I meant it.”
She gave a slow nod, and from the corner of her eye, she followed Rhys circling around the living room as if looking for clues.
“She didn’t have a choice about coming home last night.”
“I doubt that,” he spat out.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, but she was murdered.”
His mouth parted, and all of the anger and fight he’d been putting out released from his shoulders. “Murdered?”
“Afraid so.” She studied him and his reaction. The shock on his face told her what she needed to know. He didn’t do it. Unwilling to trust her instincts, she persisted with the same line of questions she’d ask everyone involved. “Do you have an alibi for last night?”
Rhys picked up a picture frame from the mantel and appeared to be studying the picture.
“Yeah, I worked until eleven and then went to a bar around the corner from the depot with a few of the guys. I didn’t get home until around twelve thirty.”
“Where do you work?”
“Mass transit,” he answered. “The cameras on the busses can confirm my alibi.”
She made a mental note to check. “Where did she work?”
“Kleinfield and Summers,” he answered while glancing over his shoulder to see what Rhys was getting into.
“An attorney?”
“Yeah.” He turned to face her. “She called me around nine last night and said she was just leaving to go meet the girls at the Honey Pot.”
“Why was she working so late? I thought attorneys kept banker hours.”
“Because it was the only time that the prick, Senator Hayes, could fit her into his schedule.”
Max stepped up by her side. “She was representing the asshole that wants all shifters to be microchipped?”
“From what I could tell, they weren’t helping him with that. It was something else, but she never told me what.”
Rhys set the picture down and glanced in her direction as if the conversation had just turned interesting.
“When was the last time you saw or talked to Emily?”
“We had lunch together. I told her I was working late, and she mentioned her meeting with the senator and that she was going to go have drinks with the girls at the Honey Pot.”
“You called her a whore. Was she sleeping around?”
“I caught her cheating once before. She begged me to stay, said that she’d only done it so we could be together. She wanted to be a shifter, and I wouldn’t change her.”
“If you knew she was desperate to be changed and willing to seek it from other men, why didn’t you just bite her yourself?”
“Detective…” He glanced back over his shoulder toward Rhys before meeting her gaze again. “She wasn’t my mate. We only get one turn for our mates, and I wasn’t about to waste it on her. We had an easy relationship. I’d told her going into it that, if I found my mate, I’d be leaving her. She knew that from the beginning.”
This was more information that no one had bothered to share with her. If what he’d said was true, then what did it mean that all of those different breeds of shifters had experimented on her and injected their DNA into her veins? Had they lost their rights to turn their mates or did it only matter if teeth were involved? Was it possible they were looking for a way around the one-turn rule?
Rhys rounded the coffee table, moving to her side. He pressed his palm to the small of her back, pulling her from her thoughts.
“I’m going to need the name of the man she cheated on you with and where I can find him.”
“Bert Handcock, and as for where you can find him, he’s buried six feet under at the local cemetery.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Hell no, I wasn’t going to jail for killing that sniveling little shit. Rumor has it he was killed because he didn’t pay his gambling debts.”
“One more question, Martin. Where can we contact you if we have any more questions?”
“I’m staying with my brother on the west side of town. My supervisor has my new contact information,” he answered before collapsing on the couch.
Patrol lights glinted through the curtains. “The forensic team is here to go through her things. We appreciate your time, and I’m sorry for your loss.” She gave him a curt nod before ushering Rhys and his brothers out of the house and leaving the door open for the incoming team and detectives. Rhys and his brothers slid into the SUV, while she stopped, exchanging words with the lead assigned to search the house. She’d explained why Martin had some things packed and asked for the investigator to call her should they find anything out of the ordinary.
Martin stepped out of the house as she finished her conversation. “Hey, Detective…”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you nail this son of a bitch. Emily and I may have had our problems, but she didn’t deserve to die, not for just wanting to be different.”
“No…she didn’t,” Elizabeth mumbled beneath her breath while sliding into the front passenger seat. She pulled out her phone and started making notes as a reminder to check his alibi and Emily’s work. They were getting nowhere fast, and she wondered if Trapp was having better luck on his end.
“Where to next?” Rhys asked, turning the key in the ignition.
“2710 State. Let’s start with Sadie Miller.”
Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside a well-kept small house on the east side of town in one of the older neighborhoods. An elderly lady stood with her body out of sight, peering from behind sheer curtains. Elizabeth stepped out of the SUV and held the door open, leaning back inside. There was something about this lady. Maybe it was the way she didn’t want to be seen or the fact that she’d been watching the street for a reason. Was it because she knew more? Call it gut instinct or intuition. Either way, the boys needed to stand down on this one, or they might run the risk of the woman not talking at all.
“You guys should stay here. The old lady peeking out the window looks kind of spooked, and you three together might give her a heart attack before I even get to ask any questions.” She smiled. “Isn’t that why you said I should be talking to the women in the first place?”
Elizabeth chuckled and slammed the door. A whistle slid from her lips while she walked up the sidewalk to the door. She didn’t even have to knock before it was jerked open and she came up close and personal with the barrel end of a shotgun pointed at her chest.
“Not another step,” Granny growled.
“Shifter Investigation Division. I need to speak with Sadie.”
Elizabeth heard the SUV doors open, and she glanced behind her narrowing her eyes, challenging them to make another move. Giving a little shake of her head, she turned back around, greeting the old woman with a smile on her lips.
“What’s this about?” she asked and lowered the gun.
“I just have a few questions for her about one of her friends.”
“Granny.” A five-year-old child stepped into view, holding a baseball and a glove. “I’m going to practice catching.”
He glanced up at Elizabeth with big brown eyes and smiled. “Who are you?”
Elizabeth leaned down and smiled. “My name is Lizzie. I’m just a friend of your Granny and stopped by to talk to her for a few minutes.” Elizabeth glanced behind her toward the truck, and she grinned. “I bet my three partners would love to play catch with you. Why don’t you go ask?”
The little boy’s eyes widened, and he glanced up at his grandmother. “Can I go play with the bears?”
“Wait. How did you know what they are?”
The boy placed his palm on her shoulder. “I can see them both ways. My daddy said it was a special gift from him to me.”
“What do you see when you look at me?” she asked, tilting her head, ignoring the old lady and focusing her attention on the child.
“A whole bunch of animals, like at the zoo.” He took her hand and closed his eyes. “Your daddy gave you a gift.”
“Sorry, boo, but my daddy wasn’t a shifter. Are you sure it wasn’t bad men you see?” she asked, thinking maybe the kid had seen what they did to her with the DNA.
“Your daddy was special, like king of the jungle.”
King, huh? She hadn’t turned into a lion yet, but she guessed anything was possible.
He grinned. “Your momma was, too.” He studied her and lifted a finger to cover her lips. “Shh, it’s a secret.”
“What is? I’m good at keeping secrets. You can tell me,” Elizabeth said, not sure what to think of the kid’s abilities. Her parents weren’t special. They’d been human. She hadn’t been changed until she’d been abducted. This kid had to be seeing the bad men and was mistaken when he mentioned a woman. From what she’d recently learned, women couldn’t pass down the DNA, and she’d not seen any during her captor’s experiments.
He leaned toward her and whispered into her ear. “She could disappear. I bet she was hard to play hide and seek with.”
Okay…this kid definitely had an active imagination.
Elizabeth pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key.
She winked at him and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go play with the bears? They’re big, but I promise they don’t bite.”
Elizabeth glanced up at the old woman. “Is that okay, Granny? They’ll stay in the yard where you can see him.”
“Sure,” she answered, and they both watched the child run toward the SUV.
Rhys rolled down his window and listened to the kid talk a mile a minute about how she said it was okay if they all got out of the car to play catch with him. Rhys held her gaze as he slid out of the SUV. He gave her a saucy grin, promising retribution, but they all played along. He and his brothers spread out in the yard and started tossing the ball.
“Can we take this inside?”
“Sure.” The woman stepped back inside and moved to stand in front of the window, opening the curtains. “I’m Sadie’s mother, Betty.”
“What’s the boy’s name?”
She hesitated.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone about his ability.” She pulled out her badge and showed it to the woman before re-clipping it to her jeans. “You have my word.”
“Gabe.”
“Is he Sadie’s son?”
“Yes,” she answered, never taking her gaze from the yard outside.
“Is she here?”
“She never came home last night, and I haven’t been able to reach her today.” Only then did the woman turn to face Elizabeth with worry in her eyes. “She’s never been this irresponsible. I’m worried.”
“When was the last time you talked to her?”
“She called before leaving work. She said was going to the Honey Pot to meet her friends and asked if I could watch Gabe.”
“Who’s Gabe’s father, and where is he?” Elizabeth asked, picking up a frame on the coffee table that depicted Betty, Sadie, and Gabe.
“Nate Bishop. I don’t know how they met, but”—Betty gave a slight shrug— “he took off after changing Sadie into a wolf and knocking her up.”
Elizabeth set the picture down. “That doesn’t make sense, especially if he got her pregnant. Mates are a protective bunch. That’s assuming they were mates.”
“Oh, they were mates all right,” Betty continued. “No one knows why he left or where he went. He wasn’t even decent enough to give her an explanation. He met her, claimed her, knocked her up, and split. He only returned once when Gabe turned four. I caught him in the yard talking to the boy. I threatened to skin him alive if he ever came back.”
“I bet Sadie didn’t like that.”
“She didn’t talk to me for a week. She just went to work and came home. If she could have afforded to move out, she would have left and never looked back. But she couldn’t afford it with the little salary she’s making.
“Where does she work?”
“She works as an aid in the legal department on Senator Hayes’ campaign.”
“Wait.” Lizzie’s brows dipped. “Your daughter is a shifter, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Why is she working for a senator who wants to tag the shifter population?”
Betty’s face turned guarded, and she pressed her lips together. “I don’t know.”
Oh yes, she did. She just wasn’t saying. Without warning, she did something she wouldn’t normally do to an older woman. She blurted out the reason she was there.
“Emily Fisher was found murdered in an alleyway a block from the Honey Pot. She was last seen leaving the club with your daughter. If there is any hope of finding Sadie still alive, I’m going to need you to help. Tell me what you know,” Elizabeth pleaded.
Betty turned back to the window, her jaw set in a hardened line. “I can’t.” She walked to the door and called Gabe back inside. “You have to leave.”
Gabe dragged his feet walking back to his grandmother. He stood in front of her, his head hanging down as she rested her arms protectively around his shoulders. “Please, just go.”
Elizabeth pulled out two of her business cards and handed one to Betty. “Call me if you can think of anything else.”
She squatted in front of Gabe and handed him the other. “You call me if you ever need anything. I know what it’s like to be different and scared.”
He nodded and took her card.
She stood and gave them a curt nod. She couldn’t make the lady tell her anything. As aggravating as it was, she had to walk out the door knowing that there were things the lady wouldn’t say. She glanced up at the curtains once more as she climbed into the SUV. Gabe was perched in front of the window. He gave her a wave goodbye.
She waved back even as she spoke. “Sadie was an aid working for the senator. Her mom said that she never came home.”
Rhys backed out of the driveway before reaching for her to link their hands. A calming force surrounded her while her mind muddled through what she’d learned so far.
“I told you we could help,” Max called out from the back seat.
Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the brothers. “Thanks for that. I’m sure Gabe enjoyed it.”
She turned back in her seat, her mind returning to the case.
“You’re squeezing my hand off. What’s bothering you, Lizzie?” Rhys asked. Lifting her fingers to his mouth, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.
“Mates,” she answered and pulled her hand away.