Chapter Twelve
Miller’s apartment was a wreck. It wasn’t immediately obvious if someone had searched the place or if this was Miller’s normal disaster zone aesthetic, but the shattered computers cleared that up quick enough. Why destroy them? Why was Bornestein’s computer missing?
Michael Miller.
Cooper had heard Harris say the name to the chief, voice hard and agonized, as he toured the tiny apartment. Most of Florence PD seemed to be here, shocked and violated to lose one of their own.
It was odd how Cooper hadn’t known, hadn’t even wondered, what Miller’s first name was this whole time. He’d been too busy accusing Officer Miller of assault and abduction. Now instead there was this stranger. Another victim to discover and profile.
Miller had been dead at least forty-eight hours, which meant someone must have called in sick for him and spoken to the chief or maybe Harris. Not just someone. His killer. It also meant Miller wasn’t the one using Baker’s place to lie low. They should try for DNA and prints off the takeout in the fridge on the chance that it was the killer’s.
But why was Miller at Baker’s the night he died? Had he been chasing a lead and stumbled across something? Or had he been purposefully lured there? If Cooper’s first guess was actually right and it was Miller’s food, he must have brought it with him into the house the night he’d died. That indicated he was meeting someone he trusted. Or trusted whoever he thought he was meeting, anyway.
Mike Miller. He sounded like the kid he was. And he had still been a kid. Cooper could see it in the tangled wires of the video game console; his fridge full of deli meats and no condiments; the DVDs, all ride-and-die cop shootout flicks, overflowing the plywood shelf that had probably come with the apartment along with the waterproof imitation-leather couch where all his dirty clothes were scattered like throw pillows. Except for his uniform, which was folded and placed on a huge pile of laundry. A tiny stamp of pride atop the slop, badge glinting like a gold star sticker.
It was uncomfortably obvious why Michael Miller had joined the force. He was just playing out the part he thought a cop had. He’d found himself a gruff but kindly mentor in Harris and followed his every move, he hoped for some small-town romance with a local waitress, maybe he’d even wanted to solve this case by himself. The first big mystery to hit Florence. Was that why he’d kept trying to insist Gould hadn’t been abducted? Maybe he’d wanted to find him himself. Maybe that’s how he’d ended up at Baker’s with a bullet to his face and through his wrist.
That was how the bracelet came off. He must have held up his hands to cover his face when the unsub pulled a gun on him. It was so...useless. So childlike it made Cooper’s jaw hurt.
“What do you think?”
Cooper turned away from the two smashed computer monitors to find Park watching him. Cooper smiled, absurdly comforted to see him. Park smiled back, pleasantly enough but obviously confused about why they were exchanging grins at a time like this.
Cooper quickly looked away. “Hard drive’s missing. Do you, ah, sniff anyone?”
Park huffed, a slightly amused but mostly frustrated sound. “Too many other people here now. The trail would be too old anyway.”
“How long after would you be able to, uh, trace someone?” Cooper asked, wondering why they hadn’t tried that during the search for Gould.
Actually, maybe Park had tried. That was likely how he’d found that lost hiker. But it wasn’t like he could cover over eight hundred thousand acres on his own or even with a pack of wolves. They’d needed a starting point. They’d had nothing.
Park was saying, “Twenty-four hours, give or take. It’s a little dependent on how familiar I am with the person.” He blinked at Cooper and then looked down, seemingly fascinated by something on the floor. Cooper looked down too but didn’t see anything. Park cleared his throat and continued, still looking down, “Anyway. If anyone else was here, their scent’s faded.”
“Obviously someone was here.” Cooper gestured to the monitors and then, picking up on Park’s inflection, said, “What do you mean anyone else?”
Park started to reply, and then glanced over Cooper’s shoulder and frowned. “Your partner just found something.”
Cooper turned to see Jefferson straightening from his crouch on the floor, a set of keys dangling from the pen he held.
Cooper walked over with Park on his heels. “What do you got?”
“Keys,” Jefferson said unnecessarily. “Could be the vic’s, of course, though—” He shook the keys gently on the pen until a keychain hung front and center. Three quarters of a wolf’s head fashioned out of twisted metal. A tiny, unpolished yellow quartz winked under the apartment’s fluorescent light.
There was a sharp intake of breath and Cooper glanced around.
Chief Brown was standing behind Park, her hand held oddly in front of her as if undecided between reaching for the keys or covering her mouth in horror.
“Those are Rudi’s keys,” she said.
Cooper felt Park stiffen behind him. “Rudi Abouesse? Owner of the Pumphouse?” Cooper asked. He recognized Baker’s handiwork himself, but was momentarily taken aback that Brown did as well. Her face was twisted in betrayal, fear and guilt. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised after all. He was starting to suspect Brown was a lot closer to Abouesse than she was letting on. That didn’t make her such a neutral alibi for Whittaker.
She nodded, still staring at the key chain. “But she doesn’t—Why would she have—”
“They aren’t necessarily Rudi’s. A couple of select employees have their own keys to the Pumphouse,” Park interrupted, giving Cooper a meaningful look. Pack members, Cooper guessed.
Jefferson also caught the look. “Sam Whittaker,” he said grimly.
“Maybe,” Park said.
Jefferson snorted. “Do you have another suggestion?” Park didn’t respond.
“I guess now we know why he ran.” Brown sighed. “Goddamn it—Sam Whittaker. I just don’t understand it.”
“What do you mean why he ran?” Park asked quietly.
Shit. Cooper opened his mouth to explain, but Brown beat him to it. “Officers were not able to locate Whittaker at his home or work.”
“When did this happen?”
“This morning.” Brown looked between Park and Cooper, confused, which just made it worse. “Didn’t—”
Jefferson said, “After we heard about Miller, Dayton and I asked the chief to arrest Sam Whittaker.”
“Bring in,” Cooper corrected hastily, trying to catch Park’s eye. “Bring in for questioning.”
Jefferson shrugged. It was obvious he had little doubt the questioning would have led to an arrest. “I don’t know why you haven’t brought him in before now. He’s up to his neck in this. Had a history of fighting with the vic. Was the last person to see him. Was the one to send Dayton to Baker’s where he was—”
Park interrupted, “His alibi checks out.”
“His alibi is weak.”
“I don’t—”
“A police officer, a good man, is dead. One of ours, if you can understand that.” Cooper flinched at Jefferson’s words, but Park remained stoic as ever. “Whittaker’s keys are found in Miller’s apartment, dropped during an obvious struggle, and now Whittaker’s run. Why run if you’re not guilty? And he fits the profi—”
“Chief,” Cooper interrupted. Brown was watching the argument between Jefferson and Park with increasing contemplation. “I think we should get Ms. Abouesse down to the station. Could you—?”
Brown nodded a little regretfully and said, “I’ll make the call.” She walked away with a final curious glance back at them.
“Maybe this isn’t the place to discuss Whittaker’s ‘profile,’” Cooper murmured as soon as Brown was a safe distance away.
“The keys. It’s too obvious. Sloppy,” Park said, as if Cooper hadn’t spoken.
“Did you expect the wolf to clean up after himself?” Jefferson sounded genuinely amused. “First you don’t bring him in because he doesn’t seem like a criminal, and now you think he’s being framed because he’d be too good a criminal to leave behind evidence?”
“I don’t see why Whittaker wouldn’t try and hide his tracks,” Park said. “He’s not stupid.”
“The evidence indicates otherwise,” Jefferson replied, bagging the keys.
Park just smiled back with more patience than actual good humor, and Cooper said nothing. Whittaker had run. And he was the only common link. His other suspect was dead and Baker...
Jefferson looked at Cooper and asked, “Rudi Abouesse—that’s the alpha you were telling me about?”
“Right,” Cooper said, voice tight. Park still wasn’t looking at him. His body was tense, angry.
Jefferson nodded. “Good. We should get her fingerprinted. She may be involved as well.” He flagged down a uniform and stepped aside to give him the bagged keys and some instructions.
Cooper moved closer to Park and spoke in a low voice, “I wasn’t trying to go behind your back with this.” Park looked at him blankly, mask firmly in place, and Cooper felt a twinge of something like panic. What if Park didn’t believe him?
“I just wanted to wait, to tell you in person be-because...” Cooper stuttered into silence, unsure how to explain his need to prove to himself that nothing had changed without sounding like something had changed. “Look, I really do think Whittaker knows more than he’s letting on. He led us to Baker. Now Baker is missing. Plus Brown isn’t such a great alibi and I think you know why.”
Park pursed his lips but didn’t deny it. He glanced at the chief speaking with Harris, a cold, grim expression on her face as they oversaw the Florence uniforms solemnly paw through Mike Miller’s minimal items.
Cooper continued, “We—I honestly thought we needed to talk to him again. And now he’s run so...”
“So he must be guilty?” Park asked, voice equally low. “Clearly you’ve never been in the position of being assumed guilty before proven innocent because of who you are.”
That hurt. Cooper had to swallow the retort You don’t know anything about my life. It hadn’t exactly been a picnic being out as a gay man in the bureau or even growing up Jewish in a small fishing town of Maryland. But though he’d been through some shit, so far in his life he’d never had to doubt the law would come down on his side if it really went to hell. Not that the law wasn’t on Whittaker’s side. If he was innocent they would find out. Something made a whole lot more difficult when Whittaker wasn’t around.
“I...” Cooper had a feeling he was fucking something up. But what exactly, the case or his tentative connection with Park, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he didn’t know what to say to fix it. Not without Jefferson thinking he wasn’t acting like himself and more questions about that wouldn’t do him or Park any good.
Park shook his head and started to walk away and Cooper reached out and grabbed his arm then dropped it immediately as if burned. The gesture felt too intimate now, somehow. Like his muscle memory would take over and he wouldn’t be able to resist pulling Park all the way against his body.
Cooper took a deep breath. “I just want to find out what’s going on here before anyone else gets killed, Oliver. I swear to you.”
Park eyed him for a moment, blank face unreadable. “Okay,” he said calmly. “Then I guess we better talk to Rudi. I’ll see you back at the station, Dayton.” He nodded, still painfully polite, and walked away.
Cooper shoved aside a wave of irrational frustration and resisted the urge to grab him again, muscle memory be damned. It didn’t make sense, but he wished Park would get angry with him. Upset, disappointed, something. Anything but this shutting out. The mask was for other people.
Cooper frowned at that oddly possessive thought. Park didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t owe Park anything. Last night was casual stress relief. That’s it. And it obviously couldn’t happen again.
...Right? He kicked himself.
“What was that about?” Jefferson asked, and Cooper jumped. He wondered how long Jefferson had been listening. Not that there was anything to hear.
Cooper’s frustration with himself latched on to his partner. “Did you have to be so—” he struggled “—I don’t know, rude?”
Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”
“You made it sound like we were purposefully cutting him out of the loop. I just don’t—” Cooper sighed. This was not his day for complete sentences apparently.
“I didn’t think you cared.”
“Look, Santiago told me to make this partnership work and I just—I feel like we offended him.”
Jefferson was regarding him thoughtfully. Finally he nodded. “Sorry, Dayton. It wasn’t my intention to make things more difficult for you with the wol—Agent Park. You know I don’t always think too much before talking. Do you want me to apologize to him?”
“No, of course not,” Cooper muttered, feeling more like a sulky child than ever. “I’m the one he’s pissed at. I’m sorry, Jefferson. I’m just sick of this case, is all.”
Jefferson nodded. “We’re almost done, kid. Don’t lose sight of it now.”
“Lose sight of it? I feel like I haven’t seen shit yet. Every time I think I know something, I turn out to be dead wrong.”
“Don’t doubt yourself, Dayton. You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for. Look, how about you and Park take the lead on questioning Abouesse? Would that help smooth things over?”
Cooper smiled at his partner. “Thanks, Jefferson. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I. And by the looks of things, not a minute too soon.”
* * *
The Florence interrogation room was brighter than most Cooper had seen. The fluorescent lights and the plastic and metal chairs made the room feel more like a particularly bland office than a police station.
Despite how long Rudi Abouesse had been there waiting, she had not taken an uncomfortable seat but stood in the corner, facing out. Park did not sit either, stalking purposefully across the little room to stand in front of Abouesse. Cooper followed at what he hoped was a respectful distance.
True to his word, at the station Jefferson had asked Park if he wanted to take lead on this, an olive branch Cooper had appreciated.
“You’ll probably get more out of her than either of us,” Jefferson had said as they watched Abouesse stand stiffly with her hands crossed over her chest and glare at the one-way glass. “Dayton, do you want to join Agent Park? I can wait out here and make sure we don’t have any spectators.”
Now Park stood in front of Rudi, blocking her in the corner, but she didn’t back up or look away from him once. They stared at each other, having some sort of nonverbal conversation, and Cooper took the opportunity to look her over.
Rudi Abouesse had thick black hair, tanned, leathery skin and brown eyes that were almost black.
He knew from Park that she was originally from Quebec, well respected by the northeast packs and currently in her fifties, though she could have passed for thirty. A hard-lived thirty, anyway. There were sharp puckers of scars dragging across her arms like whip welts, and despite the proud defiance in her eyes, there was exhaustion there, too. And worry. Worry about Whittaker.
Cooper cleared his throat but was ignored. He took a step closer and stuck his hand in between Park and Abouesse without touching, feeling like a referee at a boxing match. He waved his hand a little.
“Hello,” he said. “You must be Rudi Abouesse. My name is Agent Dayton with the BSI, and you seem to already be acquainted with Agent Park.”
Neither of them even glanced at him, but the silence at least was broken.
“What the fuck, Rudi?” Park said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Where’s Whittaker?”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m going to find him one way or another, you know that, and if you’ve helped him run—”
“I haven’t done shit. And neither has Sam.” She looked at Cooper then. Not a friendly look. Her face seemed sharper, suddenly. As if the bones of her cheeks and jaw could cut through her skin. “If you’re going to believe goddamn BSI over—”
Park took a step forward, blocking Cooper from Rudi, his back straight and his chest out. His voice had gone all deep and rumbling again. “Leave him out of it,” he warned, and Rudi’s death glare flickered a little in surprise. “I told Sam to stay and he didn’t.”
Park’s stare was so intense his eyes practically glowed. In fact, they were glinting a bit. The color had changed yet again, to an almost yellow gold, and were larger than normal, the whites of his eyes thin crescent moons bookending the sun. Cooper felt an involuntary shiver race up his spine. He glanced nervously behind him at the one-way glass. Hopefully Jefferson was able to keep anyone else at the station from watching this interrogation that had just taken a turn for the unnatural.
Rudi glared back, and this time Cooper did not interrupt. The pressure in the air built and built until finally she looked away and down. Her shoulders slumped and her neck tilted back slightly so that Cooper could see the pulse point in her neck slow as the tension eased out of her body.
Park stepped away and the pressure in the air dissipated immediately. Cooper wondered if he’d even have been able to speak if he tried. The air had been so thick he couldn’t imagine sound traveling. Now he sucked in a couple breaths surreptitiously.
“I don’t know where Sam is,” Rudi said quietly. “He’s been upset since you talked to him. Rambling all sorts of conspiracy theories and shit. I got him calmed down and he said he was going home to sleep. Then this morning I got a voice mail and he’s all hyped up again. Kept asking why Mac and Tonya stopped fighting and to call him back. He didn’t say anything about running. I called him back and he didn’t pick up. He didn’t show up to his lunch shift. Next thing I know I got Florence PD calling me in for harboring a fugitive. That’s all I know. And if you don’t believe—”
“We believe you,” Cooper interrupted, and Park and Rudi both looked at him, equally surprised. Yup. Still here. “I believe you, anyway.”
Rudi flashed her teeth at him. “What makes you think I care?”
Park stepped forward again, his body practically vibrating as a low growl filled the room.
Cooper held out his hands before they could go down that road again. Forcing his voice to stay steady, he said, “You’re right. You don’t have to care. I was just hoping to move on. May I ask a question?”
Rudi’s eyes narrowed, but Park rumbled, “Go ahead, Agent Dayton.”
“Who are Mac and Tonya?”
“Pack leaders out of Worcester,” Rudi said slowly.
“What did Whittaker mean? When were they fighting?”
“Why, so you can shoot them for it and claim self-defense of your sensibilities? Or do you think they were fighting over who got to pick off the next human? They were in town for less than a day. Neither of those packs had anything to do with this.”
“Rudi,” Park snapped. “Leave it. He’s not an idiot. Just answer his question.”
Cooper probably shouldn’t have felt a flush of happiness that Park had called him “not an idiot” but he did.
Rudi was sucking her teeth but finally, reluctantly said, “Mac and Tonya were both moving their packs up north at the same time. Unfortunate, because they’ve never gotten along. Not even before their divorce.” Rudi rolled her eyes. “One thing led to another and their packs got into it in the parking lot. Tonya accused Mac of running off one of her pack. Some young stud she’d taken up with apparently had gone MIA and she thought Mac had something to do with it. It wasn’t a big deal. Over before it even really started. No one submitted to anyone and everyone was drinking together fifteen minutes later.”
Cooper blinked a little at the soap-opera-like dramas of the packs, but Park looked unsurprised, so maybe this sort of thing was typical. Cooper asked, “This was Saturday? The day Chief Brown came by?” She hadn’t mentioned any trouble.
“Yeah, but it was long over by the time she got there. It really wasn’t a big deal.”
“If it wasn’t a big deal, any idea why Whittaker would care?”
Rudi shifted uncomfortably. “Your boy, Gould, he got involved.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I don’t need BSI in my business. And it wasn’t a big deal. He just got into it with them a bit. Making a stink, as usual. I don’t know why Sammy puts up with that kid, I really don’t.”
Park said quietly, “You could put a stop to it, if you really wanted to.”
Rudi gave Park a look that would send most men running with their hands over their testicles, but he didn’t flinch. There was still an edgy taste of challenge in the air between them.
“What was Gould making a stink about?” Cooper asked.
“First he was fighting with Sammy. Wanted him to go somewhere with him. Then he was in the parking lot fighting with the Worcester packs. Said someone had siphoned gas out of his bike.”
“Had they?”
“Probably.” Rudi shrugged. “I wouldn’t put petty crime past either Mac or Tonya. But it’s not my business to police them now. The BSI prefers we leave discipline to them. I have been informed that what I thought was thirty years of peacekeeping between migrating packs has actually been me being a ‘nuisance’ and a ‘fire-starter.’ You think you all can do better? Fine. Have at it. Now I just serve the beer.”
Cooper grimaced. Goddamn sanctions. He hoped Jefferson was listening. “Was Whittaker involved in this argument between Gould and the Worcester packs?”
“No. I told him to stay inside.” She gave Park a defiant look. Daring him to criticize her. “That idiot gets Sammy in enough trouble as it is. And it’s not like Mac or Tonya were going to hurt Gould.”
“No?” Cooper said. “Then what happened?”
“I don’t know. The packs calmed down, came back inside. I saw Gould hanging out by his bike and he was fine. When I looked back out, he and the bike were gone.”
“It was over? Just like that?”
“That’s right.”
“And you weren’t surprised by that?”
“I assumed they gave him the gas back and he took off.”
“No,” Cooper said more to himself than Rudi. “Gould’s bike was empty.” So how had he and his bike gotten to Baker’s? “Can you find out what happened? What stopped them from fighting? Please?” he added.
Rudi raised an eyebrow. She glanced at Park and said slowly, “I could make a couple calls to Mac and Tonya.”
“Great.” Cooper reached into his pocket and pulled out his card. “If you could call me here, I would really appreciate it. Anytime. Don’t worry if it’s late or early or whatever. As soon as you know.” He stepped around Park, who was still defensively blocking him, and held out his card. Rudi eyed it suspiciously and then picked it out of his fingers like a bag of dog shit. The look she gave him was unreadable, but going by the fact that the whites of her eyes were almost totally absent, Cooper guessed she wasn’t thinking sunshine and rainbows.
He quickly backed out of her space. “One more thing—did you talk to Chief Melissa Brown about Whittaker working on Saturday?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean did I ask her to lie for him? No. I don’t ask people to keep my secrets for me.”
She looked pointedly at Park and her tone spoke of a long, complicated history between them. Perhaps Sam wasn’t the first outcast she’d taken under her wing. Park’s eyes flickered. Not with anger but an almost childlike hurt that made Cooper want to be the one to step in front this time and shield him. He hurriedly buried the urge.
Rudi clearly saw the same thing. She sighed. “Look, Ollie,” she murmured, so low Cooper could barely hear. “I know you owe Cola but—”
“Enough,” Park cut her off sharply. A tense silence hung over them.
Cooper blinked. Owe Cola? Margaret Cola? Head of the Trust? He tried to catch Park’s eye, but he was still staring at Rudi, communicating something with her. Something she disapproved of by the faint lines that had appeared around her mouth.
After a long, awkward moment Cooper said, “Well. Ms. Abouesse, thank you for your help. Please only deal with Agent Park or myself for the rest of this case. If anyone else approaches, you tell them you’ve been ordered to only deal with us.”
“Yeah? Whose orders?” she snapped.
“For fuck’s sake, Rudi.” Park growled, almost a snarl. “Just do what Dayton asked. This is bigger than us.”
Cooper frowned. It could be a coincidence, but it was the same thing Santiago said to him before leaving D.C. Did Park know something he didn’t?
Rudi’s upper lip twitched a bit, revealing glinting, too-sharp teeth. Park bared his teeth right back and his eyes widened, the irises expanding and changing colors so his whole eye was once again a deep burnished gold.
“Fine,” she bit out, turning her back on them. “Are we done here?”
“We’re done.”
Rudi kept her head down all the way out of the station, avoiding eye contact with more than just him and Park. Cooper wondered if she would call him. He doubted it.
“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Jefferson said, joining them as they followed Rudi at a distance into the parking lot. His tone was tense and disapproving, and he seemed to be talking directly to Park.
Park noticed as well and twitched an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to add, Agent Jefferson?”
“Are you telling me if Agent Dayton hadn’t been there that wouldn’t have devolved into a full-fledged fight?” Jefferson hissed. “You’ve got a temper, don’t you, Agent Park? And you bullied and intimidated Abouesse. You dominated her.” He said it like a dirty word, and Cooper flinched. The intensity between Park and Rudi had been suffocating, but was it bad?
Cooper thought of all the flashes of teeth and growling. The inhuman stare of Rudi when he leaned too close. Park and Rudi had both been mad as hell, but they’d also both been in complete control of themselves. Hadn’t they? Less than a week ago he would have drawn his weapon at the first flash of gold in Park’s eyes. But now? He hadn’t once felt threatened in that room. Nervous, yes. Absolutely. But in danger of the sort of physical violence Jefferson was talking about? It hadn’t even crossed his mind. His guts had been cool and quiet, too. Right up until Rudi mentioned Park—Ollie—owing Cola...
Park was shaking his head. He looked tired and maybe a little disgusted. “That was—”
“What?” Jefferson interrupted. “Normal? Not for us it’s not. That’s not how we treat witnesses. Tell me, Agent Park, is that how you normally are with people who don’t follow your rules? Is that what happened to Jacob Symer?”
Park blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Jefferson,” Cooper warned.
Jefferson ignored him. “Symer moved here to Florence. He gave your friend Jenny Eagler trouble. She said your family took care of him for her.”
Park glanced at Cooper in confusion and Cooper just shook his head and kept his mouth shut. If Jefferson wanted to clear up the Symer matter, that was his right. It would be better to get it all out in the open so they could just move on, the three of them working together like they were supposed to, like Cooper wanted to. Jefferson was a good partner, had always had his back, and Cooper wanted him to see he was wrong about Park. Just like Cooper had been wrong. They could trust him.
Jefferson continued, “Symer hasn’t been seen since. Maybe that’s a coincidence. But from the way you came at Rudi Abouesse for, what was it, Whittaker disobeying your orders? I wonder what you or one of your family would do with a criminal like Symer.”
Park’s gaze was cold. “If you—if anyone honestly thinks I’m involved in a crime, now is the time to say it.”
“Of course not,” Cooper objected firmly. “That’s not what he’s saying. He just wants to know...” About Symer. Cooper found suddenly, humiliatingly, he couldn’t say the name. He pinched himself viciously. “Wants to—”
“Know what?” Park interrupted. “If I’m covering up a murder?” His voice was hard and cold, and he didn’t look away from Jefferson when he said it. Cooper blinked in surprise. Was Park still upset about before?
“Who said anything about murder?” Jefferson said, noting the awkwardness between Cooper and Park with a raised brow. “All I’m saying is your family seems to consider itself the law around here. I think Symer felt the weight of their enforcement, and from what I just saw in there I bet it wasn’t the first or last time.”
Cooper started to protest this wasn’t relevant to the case, but Park interrupted him again. “If you’re saying my family had something to do with what’s going on here, you’re wrong. They’ve all been out of the country for over a month. I can get you proof that—”
Jefferson held up his hand. “Not necessary. I confirmed it myself before coming up here. The estate on Cape Breton, isn’t that right?” Park frowned. “Your family might consider themselves Florence’s own law, but I’ll tell you one difference—you all certainly live in nicer houses than any LEOs I’ve ever known.” Jefferson laughed, but there was no humor in his eyes, and no one joined him.
Cooper was beginning to feel deeply uncomfortable. This was all part of Jefferson’s process. He knew that. Spin a story with some intrusive facts to make it look like they knew more than they did, until the suspect got so fed up he or she let slip the truth out of aggravation. He just wasn’t sure why he was using it on Park.
Or worse, why Park wasn’t just explaining what he knew, or didn’t know, about Symer so they could move on. Instead he was dodging the question and stopping Cooper from speaking.
Cooper remembered the way the wolves had been frightened of Park in the Pumphouse.
I have a large, close-knit family. That carries a lot of weight around here, amongst certain people...
“If you aren’t saying they had anything to do with this, what are you saying, Agent Jefferson?”
“I asked around and found out you specifically requested to be put on this case. Why?”
Park’s face went completely blank. His voice monotone. “I believe in this new Trust and BSI partner project.”
Jefferson was wrong, Cooper thought, feeling suddenly sick. Not all wolves were excellent liars. A small noise of confusion and hurt escaped his chest, and Park’s gaze darted to him. After all this, why was he lying? What was he hiding?
I know you owe Cola...
Cooper opened his mouth, then closed it, pressing his lips together, as if all the things he didn’t know about the Trust flooding his mind at that moment would escape. The way Park knew his way around a crime scene when the Trust was just supposed to be policy makers. The way no one had told Cooper Park’s family ran this town.
He shook his head, and something like disappointment flickered behind Park’s eyes. Why? Park was the one lying. What did he expect Cooper to say?
I don’t ask people to keep my secrets for me...
Park stiffly added, “I know the local wolves. I thought I would be a better help.”
“Better help? Or better able to bully wolves like the bar owner to say what you want?”
Cooper looked instinctively in the direction Rudi had walked. To his surprise, she was still in the parking lot. He could make out the dim outline of her as dusk turned to night, standing by her car, arguing with a figure in uniform. He swallowed.
“Do you know where Whittaker is?”
“No. Of course not.”
Cooper left Park and Jefferson to argue and trotted across the poorly lit lot, thankful for the excuse to get away for a moment. He needed space to think.
Ranger Christie was standing right in Rudi’s space, demanding something, his voice urgent and furious.
Now this confrontation Cooper could see getting violent. Whatever Christie was upset about had his hands shaking as he pointed them in Rudi’s face.
“Hey! That’s enough,” Cooper said, and grabbed Christie’s arm to tug him away.
Rudi glanced at him coolly and, without a word or another look at Christie, got into her car, quickly reversed and drove out of the parking lot. Cooper kept a firm hold of Christie’s wiry arm until she was gone.
“What the hell,” Christie said, shaking him off. “You’re just going to let her go?”
“What are you doing here?” Cooper said.
“She knows something. Can’t you see there’s something weird going on here?”
“Besides the multiple homicides and abductions, you mean?”
Christie slapped his hand loudly against the closest parked car in frustration. “There’s something strange going on with Sam and Abouesse. She has some kind of hold over him. I can’t explain it. But I know she’s hiding something. I know it.”
“Just forget it, Ranger,” Cooper said tiredly.
He wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone’s burgeoning awareness. The constant swing between suspicion and self-doubt could drive a person mad. He’d seen it before. He’d been there before. It was better, better for everyone, if Christie just dropped it now. Forgot what he knew, or whatever he thought he knew, and tried to get on with his life.
Jefferson was much better at soothing civilians than he was. But Jefferson, Cooper thought, looking over at his partner—both his partners—arguing across the parking lot, was not in a good place to soothe anyone at the moment.
Christie was saying, “They’re all hiding something. Abouesse, Harris, the chief, Sam. Each one of them has lied since this case began.”
Park looked over at Cooper suddenly, as if his name had been called, and caught him watching. He tilted his head, asking Cooper some question.
What? What did Park want him to say? Cooper wished he could communicate like the wolves did. With bodies and glances and...energy. That was why he’d never been afraid during the interrogation. It hadn’t been a fight, it had been a conversation. One where nothing could be misunderstood and no one struggled for the right words to say.
Like Cooper was struggling now. What do you want from me? Why did you request to be put on this case? Why did you lie about it?
He tore his gaze away from Park back to Christie. “Are you going to include yourself on this list, Ranger? You lied to us, too. You obviously know Whittaker. Knew that he and Gould were close.”
Christie’s already icy blue eyes sharpened to sub-zero temps. “All right, yes. I do know Sam. He used to visit Gould at work and we would...talk, sometimes. But I’m telling you he would never have hurt Gould.”
“And yet he ran.” It didn’t feel quite as convincing proof of guilt as before.
“Because he’s scared,” Christie erupted. “Because there’s something else going on here.”
“Why did you lie about knowing Whittaker?”
“What does the why matter?” Christie hedged, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m telling you now I lied and I’m not the only one. Rudi Abouesse is lying to you, too. She’s hiding something.”
“According to you, everyone’s hiding something. The why is the only part that does matter.”
Cooper looked back at Park, who was no longer looking at him but was listening to whatever Jefferson was saying. Park was hiding something, too. Why? Because he was involved?
No. Cooper wasn’t sure what the deal was with Park’s family, but Oliver wasn’t part of it. He could see that in the flashes of loneliness that slipped out from behind the mask. He was an outsider. Same as Cooper.
Christie ranted on and on, but Park never looked back at Cooper, and before Cooper could extricate himself Park had walked across the parking lot, started the car and driven past, blinding him with passing headlights.
Cooper hurried over to Jefferson, leaving a furious Christie behind. “Where’s Park going?”
“We’re calling it a night. How about you and I get something to eat and you can tell me why Ranger Rick over there is looking at you like you’re Maine’s latest invasive species.”