Sloan walks in with a tray of three mismatched mugs. “Coffee’s here,” she announces.
I pick a mug and take a sip.
“So, how are the murder cases going?” Sloan asks, acting completely innocent as if she doesn’t have all the updates and didn’t just eavesdrop on our entire conversation.
Serena sighs. “Not good,” she mumbles.
Sloan hums sympathetically. “There was so much evidence at the scenes, it basically looked like the money room of that cartoon show with the ducks,” she says.
“That’s exactly whatIsaid,” Serena says, perking up.
They smile at each other.
Okay, yeah, this is uncomfortable.
Thankfully, Serena leaves quickly after Sloan makes her exchange numbers because sheneedsSerena’s hairdresser’s info.
I watch the whole thing with mild scepticism. But I know one thing for sure, I’m not getting in the middle of this. Not until Sloan expressly talks to me about it. Then I’ll be a good friend and listen to her about all her complicated feelings before incessantly making fun of her for claiming she has tea in her house.
And she’ll deserve it because she’s evil and has somehow wrangled me into making dinner for everyone.
One moment, I’m sitting on the couch complaining about the amount of dog beds here, the next thing I know, I’m in the kitchen with a ladle.
“I thought we were ordering in. That’s the whole point of these meetings,” I complain as I add more salt to the pasta sauce. “Otherwise, the whole thing could just be an email.”
“I think it’d need more,” Sloan says, taking a sip of her wine and completely ignoring me. She’s all relaxed, leaning back against the counter. Ihatemy friends.
I shake my head. “At least offer me a glass too,” I tell her. She turned off her polite host routine as soon as Serena walked out.
Sloan laughs, but gets me a glass of wine too.
The doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of Dominic.
“Oh, good, there’s food. I’m starving,” he says as soon as he walks into the kitchen.
“Grab a plate. Nick apparently makes great pasta. He has it on good authority,” Sloan winks at me.
I just sigh.
Bree and Cami join in soon after, and once our plates are ready, we get to work.
“You deserve to cook me dinner for at least a year for making me read the absolute filth that was those messages, dude,” Sloan says. I’m proud of her for keeping it in for so long. Other than the mildly threatening messages she’s been sending me every day, of course.
“Yeah, yeah,” I wave her off. “I talked to Matt yesterday, and he found nothing in the chats before twenty-twenty. Did you?”
“Nope, no identification details after that, either. Other than the victims’. Apparently, those two were the only stupid people there. No other direct discussions of killing werewolves either,” she says.
“I wish Nate had just talked to us about what he knew,” Cami sighs. “I mean, what’s the worst that could have happened? A talk from the Bureau and mild surveillance for a while? Talking to other humans literally got him killed.”
Dominic shakes his head. “You can’t talk logic with these fanatics. Once they’ve got the taste of extreme hatred, their thoughts are no longer sane.”
Cami nods. “Still sucks, though. Anyway, I went through Izzy’s phone. Nate never hinted at knowing about us or even mentioned the game. I hate you for the things I had to read, by the way,” Cami says.
“Noted. Bree?” I turn to Bree.
“Okay, so I started by tracking all the 911 calls made toreport the deaths of our werewolf victims. You know, to find the people who were the closest to the them, at least physically. Then I looked at all the information about their families online. I have a huge list now, and I’m slowly getting the agents to check their alibis,” she says.
“Awesome, let me know if you need help with that,” I say. “This isn’t going to be quick.”
