Tarek Bloom’s first task of the day was convincing two beta couples not to press charges against Jax for stealing from them. Not a terribly easy task, but the first couple he visited had been incredibly sympathetic, and it probably didn’t hurt that they were an alpha/omega mated pair with a new baby of their own. The constabulary was compensating them for their losses, as well as paying for the installation of a home security system, and they’d agreed to the offer.

The second couple was going to take more convincing, Tarek could tell right away. A stone-faced beta named Piotr let him in the door, and then immediately questioned why a new constable was there, instead of the guy from yesterday.

“Constable Jenks had to be taken off this case, and I’ll explain why in a moment,” Tarek replied. “Is your husband also at home?”

“He’s upstairs with our son,” Piotr replied. “I’ll go get him.”

Sandoval was as glum and glaring as his husband, and he held a young child protectively against his chest, even after the three of them settled in the living room. Piotr and Sandoval sat close together on the couch, and Tarek perched on an armchair, angled toward the couple. He storied how Jenks had found Jax, and then gave what details about Jax’s past year that he could without compromising the case. Or violating Jax’s privacy.

The betas didn’t seem terribly sympathetic, though. “What does this man’s past have to do with us?” Sandoval snapped. “He broke into our home, where we have a child, and he stole from us.”

“He stole to feed himself and his infant. His own newborn child.”

“I’m sure this man has been through hell,” Piotr said, “but that doesn’t absolve him of committing a crime. My husband refused to sleep without our son in our bed these past two nights.”

“I do understand this was a traumatic experience.” Tarek had all kinds of sympathy for these people, he did. He simply did not believe Jax deserved prison time for what he’d done. “The province is offering to pay for all theft and property damage, as well as for installing a home security system.”

Piotr rolled his eyes. “We did that already, thanks.”

“Then we’ll reimburse you the cost.”

“You’re trying to buy our silence!” Sandoval said.

“I am not trying to buy anything.” Tarek bit back on his temper, an instinctive reaction to a beta raising his voice at an alpha. “My superior and I are in agreement that Jax reacted out of the need to survive and to protect his child. Surely you can empathize with that.”

“Why live as a vagrant? Even if he’d been hurt the way you say, why not go to the authorities?”

Tarek couldn’t go into the complexities of Jax being sold by Lawry’s halfway house, so he stuck to the simplest truth. “He had good reasons not to trust the authorities with his safety.”

“Well, he can shove his reasons up his ass,” Sandoval said. “If you can prove he broke into my house, I want him arrested and charged.”

“I think we should discuss it first,” Piotr replied.

“What? Why?”

“Because this isn’t a black-and-white issue, and the man they arrested has an infant of his own. If we prosecute, he’ll be separated from his child. I can’t imagine how painful that would be.”

Sandoval’s icy exterior fractured a tiny bit. “Fine, we’ll talk about it.”

Tarek placed a card on the coffee table. “This is my contact number. Call me when you’ve made a decision. And we’re still offering financial restitution, whether you press charges or not.”

“Thank you,” Piotr said.

Tarek showed himself out. In his car, he texted the news to Jenks. One no, one uncertain.

His next order of business took Tarek back to the constabulary’s main offices to continue looking into Senior Iverson and his unexpected connection to Jax’s case. It didn’t surprise Tarek that the man had been involved in something so disgusting and immoral, not after what Tarek had learned about him during Kell’s trial. Senior Iverson was a sadist and a rapist, and he’d pay for his crimes. Period.

Tarek already had copies of all of Senior Iverson’s personal financial records, as well as records from his business dealings through the Iverson Financial Group—an organization that wasn’t going to be around much longer, not after the Iverson name was becoming synonymous with criminal activity. He checked all of Iverson’s records against the two general dates Jax had guessed as to when Iverson had raped him.

Two records stood out, both large sums of money, and both through Iverson Financial to a small company named Mad Dog Productions. It sounded familiar, but Tarek couldn’t place it. An address and phone number were easy enough to find. Tarek’s call went unanswered. He checked the address on a map—an area west of the Narrows where most of the old, crumbling buildings were abandoned and owned by the provincial government.

So he called the city zoning office and inquired about the property in question.

“No one’s used those buildings for at least three years,” the zoning officer replied. “When they were foreclosed on, we bought them up with hopes to rejuvenate that section of town, but when money ran out, so did interest in the project.”

“So no one calling themselves Mad Dog Productions is renting space?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“It’s all right. Can you tell me who owned the property before you bought it?”

“I can, one moment.” Fingers clacked across a keyboard. The provincial government had been slowly upgrading their records systems to computers, which folks were saying were the wave of the future. One more thing Sansbury Province was investing in years after other provinces had begun adapting to the technology.

While Tarek would love one day to find records more swiftly than delivering a request to Dex, most days Tarek was lucky to manage texting on his phone. And now with using DNA to solve crimes? Technology was changing swiftly.

“Here we go, the property was owned by a Ness Udall.” The man gave Tarek a phone number and address. “That’s all the information I have.”

And it was likely out of date, but it was something. “Thank you, I appreciate the help.”

“Good luck with your case, constable.”

Tarek’s search for Ness Udall was brief. The phone number was unsurprisingly disconnected. Udall had owned two buildings in that neighborhood, which he’d rented successfully until they fell into disrepair. The entire neighborhood suffered as folks fled for other parts of the province, and eventually the bank foreclosed. He’d had a day job, also, as a cameraman for the evening news broadcasts. Tarek made a note to call his previous employer. Udall had no criminal record to speak of, so it was entirely possible the man had no connection to this Mad Dog Productions, and someone had simply grabbed the address randomly.

But since Udall was his only suspect at the moment, Tarek followed that trail. And Udall’s trail ended two weeks after the foreclosure. That was the last time his credit card had been used, which either meant he’d died, or he’d found an alternate—probably illegal—source of income. All financial transactions were made through provincial credit cards assigned when one turned twelve years old. Children were given a small monthly government stipend until they turned eighteen. Omegas kept the stipend until they mated. And everyone kept the same credit card until they died.

Ness Udall didn’t have a death certificate, so either he was a Jack Doe down in the morgue, or he’d dropped off the grid for a reason.

Jenks walked into the office around lunch with a bag of sandwiches. “You look like you’ve been working hard,” he said. “You’ve got a permanent crease between your eyebrows. Lunch?”

“Please.” Tarek rolled his shoulders, relieving tight muscles, then accepted the sandwich from Jenks. “Haven’t seen you all morning.”

“Higgs had me down in the Narrows this morning, breaking up fist fights between angry, bored beta teens. I think he wants to keep me distracted from Jax’s case.”

“Is it working?”

Jenks plunked into the visitor’s chair by Tarek’s desk. “Hell no. All I can think about is Jax. I got to hold and feed Karson this morning. It was amazing.”

Tarek grinned. “That’s awesome. Sounds like real progress between you two.”

“He’s really starting to trust me. It’s difficult not to reach out for him every time I’m near him, but he’s been through so much.”

“I felt the same way around Braun at first.” Tarek unwrapped his sandwich and took a big bite. Swallowed. “Give Jax time. It’s hard, but he’s the one who’s been traumatized. He has to come to you without him feeling pressured.”

“I get that. Goddess, I would hate myself forever if I hurt or scared him.”

“You sound like a man halfway in love already.”

“We are bonded.”

“I know, and believe me, I remember the feeling.” Tarek winked. “At least you don’t have the pressure of Jax’s first heat bearing down on you.”

“No, but first heats after giving birth are unpredictable.” Jenks picked at his sandwich, his face showing hints of fear. “They don’t come every three months, like regular heat. It could happen literally any day, and what am I supposed to do? He’s my omega.”

“You talk to him about it ahead of time and come up with a plan. Respect what he wants, no matter what your body is telling you do to do.” Tarek well remembered the overwhelming instinct to go to his omega and fuck him, and battling with himself for hours while Braun suffered alone.

“How did you resist Braun?”

Tarek’s mind flashed to images of Braun naked on his bedroom floor, resisting for as long as he could before he finally called for Tarek’s knot. “I put a door and two locks between us,” he replied. “Braun only let me in when he was ready.”

Jenks nodded, now more thoughtful than scared. “Talking about this would be so much easier if we could both just, you know, talk.”

“Jax communicates differently, but he’s still your omega. You’ll be patient with him for that simple fact alone.”

Goddess, but this was the longest, most personal conversation Tarek had ever had with Karter Jenks, and he found that beneath his young alpha bravado, Jenks had a kind heart. He truly wanted to do right by his omega, and Tarek respected the hell out of that desire.

“Look,” Tarek said, “I don’t think Higgs will put up a fuss if you ask to take the afternoon off. Start the weekend early. Go spend time with Jax and talk about this. You need to be prepared for his heat, not scrambling when he first shows symptoms.”

“You’re right. Thanks for the talk, Tarek, I appreciate it. And Jax’s case?”

“I have a suspect I’m running down, but that’s all I can say.”

“A suspect is better than no leads at all. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Tarek finished his sandwich while sifting through his various notes, trying to find a new string to pull. Udall was a dead-end unless he could find a tie between him and the Fight Club…like through Lawry! He grabbed his file of Lawry’s financials and compared them to the date when Jax actually disappeared from the omega house. Three days before Jax was taken, Lawry received a four-figure payment from Mad Dog Productions.

“Gotcha.”

Tarek sent down a request to interview Lawry.

He poured over Lawry’s records and found four more payments from Mad Dog, each spaced out about three or four months. Tarek compared those payment dates with the falsified records of omegas who’d been “mated” to fraudulent identities. The dates were close enough to assume the four omega records he pulled were connected to the transactions.

These omegas had been sold, just like Jax.

Tarek studied their photos. Four young, haunted faces. None of their files indicated they were pregnant at the time of mating, but knowing Lawry’s past behavior, it wouldn’t have surprised Tarek if they were. The Fight Club wanted pregnant omegas, after all.

His heart ached, as it often did, when he thought of the future Braun could have been sold into if he hadn’t been brave enough to escape that halfway house when he did. But his firecracker omega had gotten out and he’d helped shut that horror house down.

My mate did that. My incredible, brave mate who might be carrying my child.

Tarek pushed that thought away, or he’d go crazy wondering before next week’s test. Work now, baby thoughts later.

He would have to show those omega photos to Jax to verify if he’d seen or fought any of them, but he wanted to talk to Lawry first. Because of his personal involvement in the case, Tarek wasn’t investigating Lawry, so he had no idea if Higgs, the constable leading that case, had looked into the Mad Dog connection already.

So he called his supervisor and explained what he knew.

“I did poke into Mad Dog,” Higgs replied after a moment’s silence. “I didn’t find much, and Lawry’s done business with more than one shady company. I handed it off to a patrolman to look into more, but he didn’t find what you did.”

That’s because a patrolman hasn’t completed the investigative classes necessary to become a constable.

Tarek kept the bitter thought to himself, because dressing down his supervisor was a very bad idea. “I’m planning on speaking to Lawry personally about this,” he said. “I doubt he’ll say much, but once Jax confirms those omega photos, we’ll have the connection we need between Lawry and Senior Iverson.”

“True. But without knowing who’s behind Mad Dog, you don’t really have anything.”

“That’s why I’m not going to stop digging, sir.”

“Spoken like a true constable. Good luck.”

It irked Tarek that Higgs hadn’t taken the Mad Dog connection more seriously, but there was no fixing it after the fact.

A note came up from downstairs that Lawry was in a meeting with his lawyer and would available at three o’clock. Gave Tarek time to keep digging. He called Jenks and requested he bring Jax over so he could look at the photos and officially ID them. Jenks grumped a bit before agreeing. While he waited for Jenks and Jax, he called up Udall’s old boss.

“He was a dependable worker for a lot of years,” the man said. “Showed up on time, did his job. But he was also a bit of an oddball. Didn’t chat much. Gave off a shady alpha vibe that made people uncomfortable. Last few months he worked for me, he got mouthier. Started showing up late, or drunk or both. Said he had personal problems, but you leave that stuff at home. Eventually, I fired him.”

“When was this exactly?”

The date was three days before his last credit transaction. Three days before Ness Udall vanished.

“Do you believe it’s possible that Mr. Udall took his own life?” Tarek asked.

“I don’t know. Don’t like to think people are capable of that, even though it happens. He didn’t act suicidal that I could tell. Mostly he seemed angry all the time.”

“And he was unmated?”

“Correct.”

“Do you know of any personal acquaintances Mr. Udall might have had? Friends?”

“Hmm…was one fella he’d bring to work functions. Works in the financial district, I believe. Um…I think his last name was Ferral. Can’t recall his first.”

“Also an alpha?”

“No, beta. Not sure if they took up with each other, or were just friends, but they seemed close.”

“All right, I won’t keep you. I appreciate your time very much.”

“Not a problem, constable.”

Tarek prepared to send a request to General Records to find him a beta in the financial district with the last name Ferral, then paused. He checked Lawry’s bank and attached that name to the request as a likely place to find him.

Jenks and Jax showed up a few minutes later, Jax wearing his now-familiar baby sling and what Tarek was pretty sure were Dex’s clothes. He seemed tense and wary, and next to him, Jenks looked annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” Tarek asked.

“Patrolman made some snide comment in the hallway about Jax that he thought I couldn’t hear,” Jenks replied. “I was very mature in not cutting his tongue out.”

Tarek raised an eyebrow. “Glad to hear it.”

Jax poked Jenks, then pointed at his own throat and tongue. Jenks wilted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I’d never actually make someone else mute.”

Jax huffed.

“Anyway,” Tarek said, “this is an official visit, Jax.”

He nod-blinked at Tarek.

“Did Jenks tell you what this is about?”

A head-shake no.

“I’ve been doing some digging today, and I think I’ve linked four other omegas to this fighting ring you were sold into. All of them from Lawry’s halfway house.”

Jax swallowed hard, hands going to cover his baby, even though little Karson was silent in the sling.

“How?” Jenks asked.

“Can’t share that, but it’s a solid lead. I need you, Jax, to look at photos and tell me if you recognize any of these omegas, okay?”

Jax nodded, his expression guarded.

Tarek opened each file individually, and Jax identified two of the four.

“They were both omegas I fought. More than once. Both were more heavily pregnant than I, and I didn’t see either in my last month or so before giving birth. I don’t know what became of them.”

“Thank you,” Tarek said. “I know that was painful, but it gives me leverage when I talk to Lawry. You’ve identified two omegas previously in his care as having ended up in this underground fight club. Maybe he’ll be more willing to talk now that we have proof four more omegas didn’t go where he said they went.”

“You’re talking to Lawry?” Jenks asked.

“In about an hour. I’ve got quite a few questions for the son of a fucker. One more question, Jax.” Tarek picked up the copy of Udall’s ID card and handed it to Jax. Jax’s wide eyes and sharp gasp told him everything, but he still asked, “Do you know this man?”

Jax nodded vigorously, his expression fierce as he scribbled a note.

“That’s one of the alphas who kept me and made me fight. It’s him. He called himself Red.”

Jenks growled.

“Okay, thank you,” Tarek said. “That is immensely helpful. We now know exactly who we’re looking for.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I needed your ID first. Now I can get this out on the wire as a BOLO.” Off Jax’s confused look, he added, “Be on the lookout. We know he’s been operating locally, so someone has to have seen him.”

“So this is a solid lead?”

“The best I’ve had so far. Now I know what threads to pull. We’ll find these bastards, Jax.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else?” Jenks asked.

“No, that’s exactly what I needed.” Tarek stood and shook each man’s hand. “Thanks again.”

After they left, Tarek sent the BOLO, and he sent all four omega photos to the provincial morgue in case they matched one of their many Jack Does. City records sent up the name Jo Ferral, Bellair Financial Group—same bank as Lawry. He needed to bring in Ferral for questioning, but it was time to interview Fynn Lawry.

He went downstairs to the assigned meeting room, and the sight of the man repelled Tarek as strongly as it had the first time they’d met. Short, overweight, with a round face and eyes that promised he was lying, no matter the subject. Lawry gave Tarek a suspicious glare; Tarek took a moment to appreciate the sight of the man in a yellow jumpsuit and shackles.

Lawry wasn’t alone, either. A slimy man in a dark suit who had to be his lawyer stood and introduced himself as exactly that. Tarek declined to shake the man’s hand.

“I have some questions for you about an omega who was under your care a little less than a year ago. A man named Jax Orris.”

Lawry’s face went slack.

“Do you remember Jax Orris?”

“Mr. Lawry has attended to hundreds of omegas in his career,” the lawyer said. “How is he supposed to remember one from a year ago?”

“Because Mr. Lawry illegally sold Mr. Jax to an alpha named Ness Udall.”

Lawry paled, but his lawyer merely scoffed. “That’s a ridiculous accusation.”

“And yet provable with facts,” Tarek said. “Paper trails are tricky things, but they are often traceable. Does the name Mad Dog Productions ring any bells, Mr. Lawry?”

“Don’t answer that,” the lawyer said.

Goddess, but Tarek hated lawyers sometimes. He also had to watch his words so he didn’t accidentally clue Lawry in that Jax had come forward. “Your financial records show that Mad Dog Productions made rather large payments to you five times in the last two years. Care to explain that?”

“Don’t answer that.”

Tarek grunted. “Any thoughts on why those five payments coincide with five omegas under your care being mated to an alpha whose identity was later proved fraudulent?”

Lawry glared, but didn’t speak.

Tarek spoke all the omegas’ names again, including Jax’s. “You have no idea where those omegas actually ended up? Or why their bodies are turning up?” The last question was a bluff, and also a subtle way of suggesting he was asking about Jax because his body was in the morgue. If it somehow got back to Udall that his missing omega fighter was dead, it kept a target off Jax’s back.

Lawry was speaking volumes in his silence.

“Any thoughts on a known associate of Ness Udall working at the same bank that holds your credit account?” Tarek asked. “Your account, which received payments from Mad Dog Productions, a company tied to a building once owned by Ness Udall?”

“I have nothing to say,” Lawry said.

“Unless you’re charging my client with something else, then we’re done,” the lawyer snapped.

“Then I suppose we’re done.” Tarek shrugged, unhappy with the stonewalling, but he’d gotten under Lawry’s skin, that much was clear. “Just keep this in mind, Mr. Lawry. The more you cooperate now, the better it will look to the judge in court when he hands down sentencing. You can help or hurt yourself right now.”

With that parting shot, Tarek left the interview room. He shook himself all over as he headed downstairs to the parking garage. He fucking hated that man, and he hated being in his proximity.

Bellair Financial Group was part of an interconnected city block of buildings that housed the various banks and loan institutions in the province. A few smaller branches were located on the fringes, but all the main offices were in one place. It took him a few minutes to find the correct building and floor—whoever had created the floor plan for this place was clearly drunk—and then he was on an elevator going up.

The lobby was spacious and pleasant, with four teller stations set up to the right, and a few desks to the left. A doorway with a keypad led deeper into the offices. Tarek walked up to one of the desks and flashed his badge. “I’m Constable Bloom,” he said in his most authoritative voice. “I need to speak with Jo Ferral, please.”

“Is this a matter of your account, constable?” the banker asked.

“No, this a criminal matter.”

“Oh. One moment, please.” He picked up a phone and dialed. “Mr. Ferral, you have a visitor. Shall I send him to your office?....No, sir, it’s a constable….Of course.” The banker put the phone down and stood. “If you’ll follow me?”

Tarek trailed the man to the rear door, where he punched in a security code that buzzed it open. Down a spacious hallway with watercolor paintings hung between each door. The banker knocked on one with the nameplate: Jo Ferral, Senior Advisor.

“Come in.”

Tarek opened the door to a lush office decorated with dark woods and a lot of fake plants. “Mr. Ferral?”

“Yes.” The beta stood from behind his desk, his expression mild. The man was average in every way, even down to his brown suit. “I’m Jo Ferral. How can I help you, Mister…?”

“Constable Bloom.” Tarek showed off his badge again. “I have a few questions for you about some transactions made through this bank for a company called Mad Dog Productions.”

Ferral had a good poker face, because his expression didn’t so much as flicker. “I’m afraid financial information is private and cannot be accessed without a warrant. Do you have one?”

He wanted to play hardball. Good to know.

“I do not have a warrant, but I can easily obtain one with the evidence in my possession,” Tarek replied.

“If you had any sort of evidence, you’d already have a warrant.”

You keep thinking that.

“Mad Dog Productions has been linked to the illegal sale of five omegas to an alpha named Ness Udall, a former friend of yours,” Tarek said evenly, as if he was ordering a turkey sandwich.

Ferral tensed. “That’s preposterous and inflammatory. I can have you sued for making such accusations.”

“You can’t sue someone for speaking the truth, and I assure you, I have the evidence to back up my statements. And I’m certain Bellair Financial doesn’t want their reputation ruined by having their named dragged through the mud, much like Iverson Financial is right now.”

“I have nothing to say. Come back with a warrant, constable.”

“I thought you might say that.” Tarek removed a pair of handcuffs from the small pouch on his belt. “Jo Ferral, you are under arrest for conspiracy and fraud.” Ferral sputtered while Tarek read him his rights. Even if Ferral did lawyer up, Tarek could keep the man without officially charging him for seventy-two hours. He needed Ferral under lock and key so he didn’t try to purge evidence.

Ferral’s face flamed as Tarek marched him out of the office and down to the elevator. As soon as they were back at the constabulary, Tarek left Ferral in central booking to be processed, and then returned to his desk. He still had no solid connection between the last known Fight Club location and Udall, but Tarek wasn’t done digging. This case was personal, and he’d figure it the hell out. He already had most of the border pieces of the puzzle; now he needed to fill in the middle with the details.

The morgue called a few minutes later. “Bad news,” the tech said. “We matched one of our Jack Does to one of your omegas. Body was badly decayed, but we had dental records to match.”

Damn it.

“How long ago did he die? And was there any evidence that he’d previously been pregnant?”

Paper rustled. “He died approximately eight weeks ago. Body was found in the river, caught up under a pier. Possible physical evidence of pregnancy from the saggy skin around the belly, but that could have been bloating from being in the river. Now that we have an ID, we need either family or judicial permission to perform a full autopsy. That’s the best way to know if he was pregnant.”

Because of some backward beliefs about body desecration, only general autopsies could be performed on bodies, which meant basic external exams. Permission from a family member, or a warrant granted from a judge, was needed to perform a full, more invasive autopsy. It irritated the hell out of the constabulary, but they were having trouble convincing the government to change those outdated laws.

“Any idea on cause of death?” Tarek asked.

“Best guess is extreme blood loss, but the body doesn’t have any major physical wounds.”

Tarek’s heart sped up. “Could it have been a birth-related bleed-out?”

“Possible. Get me permission, and we’ll do that full autopsy.”

“On it, just one more question. Did the omega have any tattoos on his wrists?”

“Yes, both of them.”

“Can you have photos of the markings sent up to me?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Okay, thank you.”

He hung up, then stared at the photo of the dead omega. He was one of the men Jax had fought, and whom Jax had said was heavily pregnant. But Tarek needed that as a documented fact, not simply the word of another man. And another terrible thought struck him: if the omegin was dead, where was his baby?

Tarek gathered up all his evidence into one folder, and then headed across the complex to the courts buildings. He needed judicial warrants for both Ferral’s accounts and an omega autopsy. The afternoon was waning into evening, and with it being the weekend, he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to get this done tonight.

Jax and three other omegas were counting on him. He wouldn’t let them down.