Page 104 of Hell’s Half Acre

“Hey, Luke… Sorcha. What brings y’all to our little corner of paradise?”

Sorcha pressed her lips together, amazed that Luke didn’t say something about that comment. Especially since they were inside the police department, at Rory’s desk.

His partner, Beau Drimmel, was a teddy-bear-looking man. Around six feet, he had a full beard and beautiful brown eyes. Unlike Luke, there was nothing threatening about the man. At all.

Not until he interrogated someone. Then Beau was like a snapping turtle. Single-focused and relentless.

Since Luke wasn’t the most hospitable of people, Sorcha gave Beau a hug. “Just came to see if y’all had anything else about the two beheadings.”

“Naw. Can’t say that we do. We talked to everyone we could think of. No one knew anything, saw anything, or said anything. Makes me feel useless. We got a ninety-percent close rate on homicides, and I’d like to keep it.”

Luke clapped him on the back so hard, he stumbled forward a step. “We want you to keep it, too, hoss.”

“What are y’all doing here?”

Sorcha turned at the sound of Rory’s voice. Dressed in a dark blue shirt and jeans, he was adorable. “Came visiting.”

He pursed his lips, not buying the lie for even a heartbeat.

“They’re file snooping.” Beau picked up his water bottle from his desk and took a drink.

“No snooping here.” Luke grinned at Rory. “I have all my facts. At least the ones I need.”

“Well, why don’t I walk y’all out.” There was a note in Rory’s voice that caught her attention. There was something he wanted to tell them that he didn’t want to say in front of Beau.

“Sounds good.”

Rory stepped past Beau. “I’ll be right back.”

“A’ight. I’ll be here, pretending to work.”

Shaking his head, Rory led them through the police station, back out to the parking lot.

Sorcha could tell he wanted to say something, but he waited until they were far away from any of his coworkers to speak. “What’s up?”

“Y’all realize that we normally average, at most, two murders a month. That’s it. Two.” He met Sorcha’s gaze. “This isn’t New Orleans where a body drops every other day. We only have eight homicide detectives, total. Since you’ve come to town, the number of homicides keeps growing.”

Was he saying what she thought? “I’m not killing them,” she said in an offended tone.

“I know that.” He gave her a hard, droll stare. “But something’s changed since you rolled into town, and sadly, it’s not the mountain that trails you.” He glanced over to Luke. “We were certain more bodies would start dropping with him here. It’s why I joined the force.”

“Ha. Ha.” Luke’s sarcasm was tangible.

Rory shook his head. “What galls me most is that the homicide rate actually dropped with him here. I mean, it doesn’t gall me that we have less homicides⁠—”

“We know,” Sorcha said, interrupting him. “You want Luke to be responsible for the deaths.”

Rory cleared his throat. “You don’t have to make me sound so childish, even when I’m being childish.”

She gave him credit that he admitted it. “So what are we doing then?”

He let out a tired sigh. “We had an attempted homicide last night. Another werewolf.” Rory handed her a piece of paper. “That’s his contact info. You did not get that from me. I never saw it and I know nothing…but he thinks I’m human, so he won’t tell me shit. Maybe y’all can get something out of him that might keep this from happening again. Or keep whoever tried to behead him from succeeding.”

Luke inclined his head. “Thanks.”

“Just help us get this son of a bitch before they kill someone else. I’m tired of people dying.”

Sorcha rubbed his arm. “We’ll let you know what we find out.”