“Welcome,” I say, striding over to the two of them. I shake hands with both of them and then gesture to the chairs. “Please have a seat.”
They each take a chair and I move to sit behind my desk. My mate remains standing and leans against the back of my chair.
Smith gets straight to the point, focusing his attention on Keir. “The best we can tell your uncle died around three AM this morning. When was the last time you saw him?”
“A few hours before the challenge,” replies Keir. He explains about the negotiations with Rossi and how Randall retreated to his room once he had his hands on the money.
“We found no money on him or left behind in his hotel room,” says Yang.
“Could it have been a robbery?” asks Keir.
“That’s doubtful,” says Yang, shaking her head. “First of all, Randall was a shifter, so there’s no way a human did this and if another shifter wanted to rob him, they wouldn’t have bothered with the rest of it.”
“You mean the whole torture thing?” asks Keir.
“Yes,” says Yang. “Given the location and the condition of the body, the perpetrator likely drugged or incapacitated Randall then brought him to a remote location for questioning.”
“So, what do you want from me?” asks Keir. “I have no idea who might have killed him.”
Smith and Yang share a look, then Smith reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folder sheet of paper. “I wanted to get your take on this,” says Smith as he slides the paper across the top of the desk. “We found it on the ground near the body.”
Keir grabs the paper and unfolds it, holding it out so I can see it as well.
It’s a missing child poster with a picture of a young boy, maybe three or four, with reddish hair and brown eyes. He’s a stranger to me, but Keir inhales sharply.
“That’sLuke,” he says.
Forty
Keir
Randallwasneverexactlya doting father to Luke, but this… I don’t understand.
I stare down at the flyer, my gaze tracing the familiar-but-not features of the young child’s face under the ‘Have You Seen Me’ banner. The picture is clearly old, but I can still see Luke in those brown eyes. If I hadn’t seen my cousin—notmy cousin, doubly so apparently—recently I might not have noted the similarities, but there’s no mistaking them now.
Smith rubs at his chin. “How sure are you of that?”
“If this kid isn’t Luke, he’s at least related,” I say, picking at the edges of the paper. “Do you think the person who killed Randall was looking for Luke?”
“That’s the current theory,” says Yang. “What we can’t quite piece together is why now. The person we’d really like to talk to is Luke. We’ve tried calling him at the number he left with us, but it goes straight to voicemail. Do you know where he might have gone?”
“No clue,” I say. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t really care who killed Randall. Given this flyer, it’s clear the guy was a criminal and kidnapping seems to be something my old pack had a habit of.”
“What do you mean?” asks Yang, her brows drawing together.
I glance at Julien. “We recently found out that I wasn’t born into the pack either.”
Smith and Yang share a look, clearly surprised by this new information.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with Randall’s death, except maybe tangentially,” I continue. “But it might not be a bad idea for the triumvirate to send some people down to Alabama and check things out.”
Smith pulls a notepad from his pocket and flips through the pages. “That would be the Sweet Water pack located outside Tuscaloosa, right?”
I nod. “Whoever ends up going should take backup. Luke is technically Randall’s heir, but if he hasn’t taken control of the pack, then I’m not sure who will be in charge now. My old pack was never been fond of outsiders.”
Yang arches a brow. “How much of an understatement is that, Mr. Anderson?”
A laugh breaks out of my chest. “If I thought it would help, I’d offer to go along, but I’ve already got enough to deal with.”
