“You know, Levi didn’t kill his mate. That was all a misunderstanding,” I explained. “I’m helping him figure out exactly what happened way back then. To, uh, get some closure.Did your grandfather tell you anything about what happened the night Naphele died?”
She pinned me with her gaze, and a chill crept up my spine. Gone was the jovial woman who was making jokes about her son and sharing her beef and broccoli with me. Now, there was a fiery intensity behind her eyes.
“I would beverycareful around Leviathan Cross,” she said, speaking slowly, enunciating the words. “I would also stay away from investigating that murder.”
Her words couldn’t have thrown me more if she’d followed them up by kicking me in the chest.
“I’m sorry?” I frowned in bewilderment. “Why wouldn’t we look into it? Surely there wouldn’t be any danger to either of us. That murder happened a hundred years ago. Do you honestly think anyone would be mad at us if we found out who actually killed Naphele?”
Monica’s face softened. She shrugged and smiled sadly. “Shifters live a long time. Old wounds and old scandals heal slower than they do in the human world. I think it would be safer and smarter for you and Mr. Cross to drop it.”
Yes, shifters lived a long time, but notthatlong. Rafe Thornton would be almost a hundred-and-thirty years old right now if he was still alive. The man had retired from being a pack elder twenty years prior due to his failing health. As far as anyone knew, he’d been moved to a shifter nursing home to live out what remained of his final days, and eventhenhe’d been the oldest shifter I’d ever heard of. Well, except for Levi, but that was different. Few—if any—shifters would spend years in the wolf form to prolong their lives. And honestly, even if they wanted to, I doubted many would be able to keep their sanity the way Levi had. Remaining in wolf form that long typically had bad side effects.
From the look on Monica’s face, I could see she was being serious. Maybe they were afraid of their family being pulled into an old crime? Anders wasn’t a very beloved alpha, and I’m sure even his mother knew that. They wouldn’t want any kind of black eye on the family name, even if it was towards a dead man.
“Got it,” I said, smiling at her and lying through my teeth. “You’re probably right, honestly. It was alongtime ago. It’s probably best to let it go. I’ll talk to Levi about it the next time I see him.”
Her smile once again grew warm and welcoming. “Good plan. But again, be careful around Leviathan. I know his reputation is mostly urban legend and bedtime stories, but someone who’s spent that much time in the woods can’t be all the way there, you know?” She tapped her temple for emphasis. “I’d make sure you only meet him when there are a lot of other people around.”
“Sure thing,” I said.
“Good girl.” She squeezed my shoulder as she stood. “I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer. Let me go get some. We can crush the fortune cookies on top and squirt some chocolate syrup over it. What do you say?”
“Sounds great.”
When I left an hour later, I had a sneaking suspicion that the late Rafe Thornton might have climbed to the top of our suspect list. If the man was innocent, why was Monica so dead-set on making sure no one investigated a hundred-year-old murder?
65
LEVIATHAN
My phone rang while I was making a sandwich for lunch. I picked it up and saw June’s name on the screen. Unable to help myself, I smiled as I answered.
“Hello, this is Levi.”
“No way, I thought it was Santa Claus,” she said with a laugh. “Who else would be answering your phone? You live by yourself in that tiny house.”
I grinned to myself and said, “Well, how do you know I’m not here having a poker game with my buddies?”
“Levi, the onlybuddyyou have is Rainier, and he’s in Hidden Grove.”
“Okay, stop busting my balls. What’s up?”
“How would you feel about taking a little field trip this evening?” she asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice.
Frowning, I leaned against the counter. “What do you have in mind?”
“Remember how I was able to trigger that vision with Winston’s watch?”
“I do.”
“Well, I found Elmer Meyers’s last living relative. His grandson, Keenan Meyers, mated outside the pack and joinedthe Black Creek pack about ten years ago. I was thinking we should head out that way and find the guy. I thought hemighthave a souvenir or something that belonged to Elmer, so I could try get a vision from it. What do you think?”
Even if the plan had sounded dumb, which it didn’t, I would have said yes. Anything to spend some time with her again.
“That sounds like an amazing idea,” I said. “When do you want to leave?”
“I’m working at the store until five because Gran took Grandpa to his doctor’s appointment. I could meet you when we close, or is that too late?”
