Ashton, the victim, knew three werewolves. One distant relative who lives in the city but has rarely had contact with the guy, as per his phone records. One is a bouncer of a club he sometimes visited. And the last is our suspect, Drew.
Drew sold large quantities of cocaine to Ashton as per small payments made by him over the last six months. Ashton visited AA meetings sincerely and frequently called his sponsor. We know that because he saved his sponsor's name as "AA sponsor".
We currently have two theories. Either Ashton was still buying drugs regularly despite the meetings. Not unbelievable because addiction doesn’t have a magical cure, and addicts frequently lie and relapse. But his toxicology report proves he was clean. And the last payment was made to Drew only a few days before Ashton’s estimated time of death. If he were buying drugs to consume, it would have shown in the report.
The second theory, and the one we’re investigating, is that Ashton was paying installments for a previous purchase. And someone wasn’t happy with how slow it was. Enough to kill? I would like to say no, but I’ve seen werewolves kill for much less. Something to do with unfettered power.
I take notes of all the places Drew frequents. The kind of people he trusts. How easily he’s triggered. It may turn out he’s innocent. But it never hurts to be prepared.
When my phone buzzes, I startle out of my fugue state. A text from an unknown number.
I’m here whenever you’re ready.
I look at the time. Of course, the man is right on time. I quickly shut the laptop and lock it back in. I need to hurry outside before Ashley scares the guy away. She clearly wasn’t fond of him, and if Ashley's neutrality toward people is scary enough to make them run, I don’t even want to see what happens when she’s wary of someone.
Actually, I want to see it now.
I rush outside to catch the show and/or save Nicholas, only to find him leaning on the desk, Ashley sitting behind the reception desk… laughing? That can’t be right. Maybe that’s her sneering face? Or maybe she’s laughingatNicholas? No, but why is he laughing with his head thrown back? The dimple is full on display, blue eyes sparkling.
I stop in my tracks. The man sure cleans up nice. The white T-shirt fighting for its life with his giant biceps, a pair of black jeans tight enough to show his long legs and droolworthy ass, clean shaven face, and carefully mussed light brown hair make him look like a playboy. A dirty one. The ones I used to have a crush on in college.
He turns to look at me, and my world narrows to that smile, hitting me like a physical blow.
“Elliot, you have to hear about this case Nick solvedonlywith a severed hand they found on the beach.” Ashley’s voice brings the world back to focus.
Nicholas turns back to her, freeing me from his intense attention. I clear my throat.
“We weren’t expecting to find the woman alive, but we were so glad we did,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Aren’t we all lucky to have him with LA's finest?” I walk towards them, done with whatever is happening with Ashley’s whole thing right now.
Nicholas laughs while Ashley fixes me with a glare.
“It was a team effort,” Nicholas says shyly as if I really complimented him. “Ready to go?” His gaze slides over me, making me jittery.
“Yup,” I say, already heading out. “Close up before leaving,” I throw over my shoulder.
We silently walk outside, his heavy footsteps right behind me. “We can drive together. I can drive you back here on my way back,” he suggests.
“Where are we going?”
He steps in beside me, his hand brushing mine as we squeeze along the narrow sidewalk. A firm line of warmth settled against my side. “Valero. I’ve been meaning to go there for a while,”he says with a put-upon casualness.
My eyebrows go up. “That’s booked for months in advance,” I say, a little impressed. Whatever the man’s intentions may be, he’s not taking this lightly. And he’s probably not planning to arrest me tonight.
“The owner likes me,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him, urging him to elaborate. “His daughter received some threats a while ago, and I helped make sure she won’t be bothered again.” He looks straight ahead like he’s embarrassed abouthowhe made that happen.
What did he do? Put on the handcuffs a little too tight? Use a swear word within the earshot of the criminal? I can’t imagine this gentle giant doing anything worse than that. “That sounds very close to taking advantage of the uniform, Boy Scout.”
He laughs again. God, why is this guy so happy? He turns his crinkled eyes to me. “If only you knew,” he murmurs.
I snort.Sure.
He stops in front of a Challenger. The car fits his whole physical vibe perfectly, but it’s completely off-base for his personality. He’s turning out to be a puzzle I have no desire to solve.
Sam’s annoyingly long research file on Nicholas also had his address. And the clinic is absolutely not on his way, whatever road he takes. I get in his car anyway. I don’t know where the date will lead tonight, but if we’re going to go back to my place, the clinic will be on the way.
He starts the engine, and Taylor Swift’sMy Tears Ricochetblares on the speaker. “Ahh, this song. So many feels,” he sighs.
