Shoot. Mia scrambled for an explanation. “You know, the whole Volk Mining Company and them owning the town. Seems like a pack of miners to me.”
Pete snorted. “That’s a fair assessment.”
Whew. All right. “Either way, my guess is that Mandy stumbled onto something in her poking around. She would’ve made a decent cop if she’d ever been given the chance.”
“Shit,” Pete muttered, pulling to a stop in front of the station.
Mia should probably give the diary back to the family. “Exactly.” Erik was still her strongest suspect. She needed to talk to him alone, without anybody flanking him. How could she make that happen?
The office was chaotic when Mia and Pete walked inside.
A wide deputy with blond hair and a full beard looked up from fetching some mail off the floor. “The Barnby brothers escaped.” A bruise extended along his jaw, and his nose was bleeding. “They’re stronger than they look.”
That was because they weren’t human. Mia sighed. “Any idea where they were going?” Her gut told her they’d flee the entire area, considering Seth probably wanted them dead.
“No.” The deputy wiped blood off his chin. “I have BOLOs out and am prepared with an arrest warrant.” He looked her over. “You seem to be feeling better today. I’m glad.”
“Thanks.” She did feel better and kept checking her skin for fur. None. Only a diminishing headache and perhaps more energy than she’d become accustomed to having. Would she get stronger? So far, she didn’t feel like she could lift a Volkswagen or anything, but it was nice that the fever had dissipated. “I think it was just a stomach bug.” She nearly choked on the lie.
Pete scratched his head. “What now?”
She paused, looking around the reception area. The Barnbys would be long gone, especially if they’d shifted to wolf form. Seth and Erik were no doubt busy searching for the duo, which left Benjamin alone. “I think I’ll go out and talk to Benjamin again.” Without his sons present, freshly out of his coma, he might slip up and talk to her.
She tapped her finger against her lip. “Seth didn’t kill Ruby and Mandy, but Erik is a good contender.” Especially since impregnating Ruby might’ve hurt his chances at becoming the pack’s Alpha. Maybe. She still didn’t quite grasp the politics of a wolf pack—of Seth’s wolf pack.
Pete wiped off his brow. “Yeah, but Erik would’ve been what? Around twelve years old when his mother died? He would’ve been too young to kill anybody like that. So you’re saying the recent murders were him actually copycatting how his mom died? That’s sick.”
The headache returned, humming inside her temples. So much for the reprieve. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Me either.”
She sighed. Erik would’ve been a twelve-year-oldwolf, not human. Did that mean he would’ve been strong enough to kill at that age? Only if he was a stone-cold psychopath. Was he? He was handsome and charming, and many psychopaths hid in plain sight.
Pete studied his deputy. “You okay going alone? I have to settle things here.”
“Yeah.” She preferred it, actually. It wasn’t like she could talk about wolves with Pete around. “I’ll have a nice chat with Ben and meet up with you later. Let me know if you find the Barnby brothers.” They were probably to Florida by now.
“Great.” Pete hitched up his belt and moved to survey the damage to his station, tossing her his keys. “Keep her under fifty.”
Mia hurried back outside, noting clouds rolling in from the south. Dark and swollen, their underbellies promised an oncoming storm. She shivered.
The rain started to drop with fat flops on the way out to the estate, and Pete’s car grumbled with power beneath her hands. Maybe she could take a drive after the interview and open the throttle. The vehicle wanted to fly, and she did like to go fast—with cars, anyway.
In the stormy day, the Volk mansion looked wounded with the burned-out part being drenched. Smoke still hung low, and the smell of smoldering wood encompassed the entire area. Darkness filtered between the surrounding trees, embracing the storm with a hint of threat. Of danger.
She stepped out of the car and fought a tremble. With a smooth motion, she released her weapon from her purse to tuck at her waist. Regular bullets should slow down a wolf shifter, at the very least. She had to get her hands on some silver ammunition.
The skies opened up with a gleeful clap of thunder, and rain plummeted down. It plastered her hair to her face, and she ducked her head, running toward the front door.
She halted.
The door was slightly ajar with a wide crack through the heavy wood at the base.
She drew her gun, her hands steady. “Benjamin? Alice?” she called out.
Nothing.
Exhaling to calm her nerves, she nudged open the door.
