All American Wolf Page 6
There was a sudden weariness in Wes’s voice. A wave of compassion washed over Serena. Wes looked tired, exhausted. She wondered how long it had been since he’d slept in his own bed, ate a meal at his own kitchen table, wherever that might be. If there was someone back in Kansas, sitting up nights, waiting for the phone to ring. Her panic over Brody faded away, replaced with concern over this hunter, a police officer like she was, one of the good guys out to rid the world of evil.
They were silent for a long time. Serena looked out the window, the snow falling more heavily now, blowing across the glass. It was peaceful here, with the snow on the other side of the thick glass, the room warm. Wes hadn’t turned on any lights and as the light outside slowly faded, the room grew shadowy and dim. Serena finally pulled herself back from the mesmerizing snow.
“Anything else you can tell me about this…Brody Sullivan? Habits? Routines?”
“Other than killing people?”
Serena looked up, eyes narrowed. Wes shook his head.
“Sorry. No, nothing else, other than he’s probably very charismatic, able to charm anyone he comes in contact with. It’s a theory I’ve developed. He’s probably a guy that other guys don’t feel threatened by despite the good looks. And he’s a guy that women would be automatically drawn to without knowing why. He’s non-threatening and seductive. That all-American boy-next-door thing.”
Despite herself, images of her first meeting with Brody came to mind. He’d practically ignored her at first, yet she’d been interested, drawn to him, as Wes said. And then, later, when it was too late, she’d found him irresistible.
“Wes, this has been really helpful.” She turned to him, meeting his eyes, his look intense and serious as if trying to read her thoughts. She resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze.
“So you finally believe me?” It wasn’t a question.
Serena blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. I told my partner I wasn’t sure if I believed you, but that you believed yourself. I think that counts for something.”
“And you want my help?” Again, a statement, a foregone conclusion. There didn’t seem to be a doubt in his mind that she was going to accept.
“I do. I think…I’m not really sure what I think, to be honest.” Serena shrugged, plagued by the sinking feeling that came with a case that seemed impossible to crack. “But right now, there are things about this case that make no sense. I’m hoping you can help with that.” A cynical voice told her there were some things even Wes couldn’t help untangle, the big one being that she’d slept with Brody.
Wes sat back in his chair, arm stretched across the back, the most relaxed she’d seen him since she’d arrived. He cocked his head, regarding Serena for a moment. “Do you want to lay out what you have? Even if makes no sense to you, there might be something in all of that that makes sense to me.”
Serena leaned forward, setting the case file on the coffee table. She opened it and slid out the photos she’d gotten from Lenny.
“We have an ID on our victim. Marcus Goudy, twenty-two, a student here in Madison. We got a hit from the tattoo on his back. We still don’t know how he ended up on the lake though, or where he was last night. Or where the murder actually took place. It appears the body was dumped.”
“That’s about the same age as the rest of the victims. And he was a student. Apparently they’re easy pickings.”
“Were the rest predominately male?”
“Yeah, all except the first victim, the woman in Kansas. She was older, married. Not old like elderly. I mean she wasn’t a student. She was in her 20s, maybe 25. Just older than the rest of the victims, but only by a few years.”
Serena paused, the hand holding the photos trembling slightly. The woman was—had been—the same age as Serena. The same age as Mary-Claire. She shook herself and quickly flipped through the photos, taking out the set of the wolf prints. She laid them out in order, the animal tracks clearly changing over several images to human footprints.
“We have this…and I have no idea in hell what this means.”
Wes sat forward in the chair, looking closely at each photo. He finally looked up at Serena, his face hard.
“This is him. This is what happens. He kills, he runs…he changes. And he hides.” Wes held up the last photo, the trail of footprints fading off toward the edge of the lake. With a start, Serena realized the shore in the photo was the edge of Lake Waubesa, just above the falls. Her house was right behind the tree trunks. She’d been so focused on the footprints it hadn’t registered. The image of the wolf on the lake flashed through her mind. It would have walked right along that shoreline.
“Where is this?” Wes pointed to the photo, breaking into her thoughts.
“The footprints lead to a little town called Shadow Falls, south of here. There’s a chain of lakes and rivers, running from where the body was found, to the Falls.”
“Seems like you have a place to start then, unless he’s gone further south. But I’d wager he’s holed up there in Shadow Falls. At least for the time being.”
Serena briefly closed her eyes. He was more right than he knew. She tapped the photo with her finger. And she was more confused than ever.
“The thing I don’t understand, well, one of the things, is why there was no sign of a struggle at the scene. We assume Goudy was killed elsewhere. But how does he just drop them somewhere, with no one noticing? Just how strong is this guy?” Super predator, Professor Beckley’s words, flashed through her mind.
“He’s done that before. In Minnesota and one in North Dakota. The victims were killed elsewhere and dumped. Shifters are preternaturally strong, even in human form.” Wes ran one hand through his hair, frowning.
“This is radically different from all of the previous murders, except the first, the one that started all of this. The other bodies were dumped out of sight, some not found for days. This one…your Marcus Goudy…was dumped in a pretty visible location.”
“What was different about the first?”
“She was found in her home, apparently murdered there and left. After that, the killings were all in remote areas. It’s like he was buying time, stalling or something, giving himself a cushion before the bodies were found.” Wes tapped the photo with his finger.
“Do you think he’s changing his methods? Or maybe he got spooked somehow?”
Wes shrugged. “Hard to know. Could be any of those, or he just decided to switch things up.”
“The cause of death…for the other victims?”
“Massive blood loss, usually from the neck wounds, sometimes from chest or abdominal wounds.”
“Head injuries?”
“Every one had massive head injuries along with broken arms or hands. For a serial killer, he seems to have a soft spot. All the victims were unconscious when he killed them.”
“Mr. Callahan…” Serena caught his look and smiled. “Sorry. Wes. I’m interested in taking this further, in having you work with me on this case. I’m not sure in what capacity though, I’d have to run it by my Lieutenant if you’re looking for any type of compensation or…”
Wes held up his hand. “That’s not my motivation for contacting you. While getting paid helps the cause, I’m more interested in catching this bastard before he kills again. I’m offering you my knowledge and experience…and whatever else I can provide.”
Until she leaned back, she hadn’t realized how tense she was, how tightly she’d held herself. Knowing Wes was willing to work with her, hearing him say the words had released some of the pent up anxiety she’d had since this case had started going sideways. And since she’d discovered Brody was considered the major suspect… the only suspect. Maybe it was just his confidence, his determination that lessened the feeling she was in over her head or in this alone.
Or maybe it was Wes. Maybe it was that simple. Maybe the thrill she felt, the wash of relief through her had nothing to do with the case. Maybe it had everything to do with her and how she felt about the man sitt
ing across from her.
“So that’s what it takes.” His words caught her off guard. He was smiling again, that cocky smile he had worn in her office earlier in the day. Only this time, it didn’t irritate her. This morning he’d seemed like a slightly off-balanced guy looking for attention, his confidence misplaced.
Now, after seeing him, listening to him, being this close to him, Serena didn’t think he was off-balanced at all. The cockiness and confidence was seemingly born of experience and dedication, maybe an obsession with catching a killer, but not from any apparent delusions.
“Sorry? What takes what?”
Wes’s smile broadened. “That’s the first time you’ve relaxed since you got here. You’re probably the most intense person I’ve come across, in the force, I mean. Aside from myself.”
Serena blew out a breath. “This case…it’s been…” She held out her hands, palms up. “You’ve been there. What can I say?” He understood her, the case, like no one else could. That knowledge gave her a sense of relief, the first she’d had since she was assigned to the case.
“You can say yes to that beer.” Wes rose, setting his bottle on the coffee table. “You have to be off the clock by now. It’s after six.”
Serena looked at her watch. She’d been here over an hour, completely losing track of time. She wanted to get to Shadow Falls, ask if anyone had seen anything suspicious, anyone new that looked odd. Anyone other than Brody. Maybe take a walk out on the lake, look for wolf tracks.
“I can’t, really. Thanks. But I have some more work to do.” She rose from the couch and reached out, hand on Wes’s arm. He stopped, looking briefly down at her hand, and then his gaze slowly moved up her body until he was looking down into her eyes.
She met his gaze and that disconcerting electric current passed between them again. She tried to pull away, willing herself to pull her hand back from his arm. Wes moved closer. Some remote part of her mind said to stop, this wasn’t what she really wanted, but an overwhelming need to give in to the primal urges welling up inside of her took over, further diluting her already weakened resistance.
His lips on hers were soft, and that surprised her. But the intensity behind his kiss took her breath away. She was crushed against his chest, her hands sliding over the soft material of his sweater, fingers finding the warm skin of his neck, grazing over his pulse, his heart beating strong and hard, but not as fast as hers.
In that instant, the kiss deepened. The moans she thought were hers belonged to Wes, and she finally picked up her own sounds, whimpers and sighs, higher pitched, frenzied, mixing with his.
Wes’s hands slid across her back, one cradling the back of her head, the other coming to rest on the curve of her ass. She was held fast, weightless, bound to him, against him, in a wash of animal lust.
A deep heat bloomed deep in her belly, the first jolt hitting her like a sledgehammer. She cried out against his mouth, her tongue lashing against his, suddenly aching with a need so fierce it made her dizzy.
The chirp of her cell phone made her jump, the muffled ringtone of Mike’s call buried beneath her clothes, but Wes’s arms held her in place. She squirmed and pushed lightly against his chest, then harder, expecting to be released, but he only tightened his hold. A flash of panic surged through her and she turned her head, pulling her mouth away from his. Something snapped and he released her, stepping back. He ran the back of one hand across his mouth, his breathing harsh, the edge of a growl coming from deep inside him.
Serena fumbled for her phone from the pocket of her jeans and flipped it open, stumbling back a step and bumping into the sofa.
“Daniels.”
“Did I catch you in the middle of a run? You’re out of breath.”
“No, Mike, not running. Just…” She tried to draw a deep breath but it turned into a shuddering gasp. She watched Wes, standing in the dim light cast by the fixture from the kitchen. “What is it?”
“I wanted to catch you up on things. The interview with the jogger was a bust, all he saw was what he thought was a dead deer. But we tracked down Goudy’s roommate. The kid was at a party on campus until at least 3:00 a.m. Left drunk, headed for his dorm room. I got a list of names…”
“And he didn’t make it there?” Serena’s eyes were locked with Wes’s. He stood in front of her, hands on his hips, listening to her conversation.
“No. The last anyone saw of him, he was walking down Langdon, alone.”
“That fits with the time of death. Anything else?”
“No, Serena. It’s…are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m…in the car, on the way home. The roads are a mess. I should go.” She flipped the phone shut, cutting off Mike’s next words.
“Partner?” Wes nodded toward the phone cradled in her hand. Serena looked down, then stuffed the phone in her pocket.
“Yeah. Follow up. The time of death is after midnight, before 5:00 a.m. or so and the last anyone saw Goudy was around 3:00 a.m., after a party.”
Wes ran one hand through his hair, messing up the thick black strands. Serena ached, for a heartbeat, to do the same, wondering what his hair would feel like between her fingers. She closed her eyes, willing herself to think about the case, the inexplicable desire returning, making it hard for her to think straight.
“Umm…it’s pretty much the standard MO. Finds them late, drunk or high, drags them off.” Wes paced away from her, and the space between them gave her a chance to get control of her racing mind and overheated body.
“Listen, Wes…I…what happened…I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure that an apology made sense, but something needed to be said. Awkward silence crept into the air around them, swirling in the tangle of unwanted heat that threatened to suffocate them.
Wes spun around, closing the gap in two long strides, pushing himself back into that zone that sent her heart skittering in her chest.
“You’re sorry? I’m not.” He had her by the shoulders, smoldering eyes locked with hers. “Don’t ever be sorry, Serena, for letting yourself feel. Without that, we’re not human. We’re no better than our killer. We’re nothing more than animals.”
Chapter Five
She’d fled Wes’s hotel room. He hadn’t pressed her any further, hadn’t forced himself on her. If anything, he’d backed off, just enough to let her get away. She retrieved her car and sat for a long time, body shaking, trying to understand what had just happened, why she’d acted the way she had, why she felt so out of control. Finally, she drove away from the Hyatt, heading home.
The roads were messy, her lie to Mike bearing fruit. The highway to Shadow Falls was slick, the few inches of snow that fell turning to a slick sheen beneath the tires of people coming home from work.
The wipers thumped, clearing an arc through the snow. Traffic had slowed to a crawl and she sat, heater blowing on her feet, and thought about what happened with Wes. All of it, everything, was so out of character for her, so totally against how she usually behaved. Now, sitting here, her bare hands cold on the steering wheel, it seemed all kinds of wrong. Rationally, she was in no position to be kissing what amounted to a colleague, someone working with her on the case.
But in Wes’s room, in his arms, had she really wanted him? In that moment, rationality had left the room, leaving behind raw lust and some kind of dangerous, uncontrollable animal passion.
Serena finally turned down the main street in Shadow Falls. The snow was still falling, large fat flakes that swirled beneath the streetlights. She forgot about Wes and the case for a moment, lost in the magic of the falling snow.
A few blocks down on her right, the neon lights of Andy’s bar flickered, casting colored patches on the snow-covered sidewalk. She pulled up in front and parked. Andy’s was the oldest bar in town, the one where everyone ended up eventually. They served the best fish fry in the area every Friday and had a burger Serena was pretty sure she could live on, smothered in a secret sauce, tangy and sweet and spicy. Andy swore he’d take the re
cipe to the grave, no matter how many times Serena asked him for it.
Tonight, with the snow, it was just Andy behind the bar, and Joe Patterson, sitting in his usual place, watching the television, waiting for the game to start.
“Serena. How you doing? Want something to eat? I got the grill fired up with no one to feed.”
Serena pulled out a stool and sat, leaning her elbows on the bar. She realized she was starving.
“Yeah, I do. A burger with everything. And fries…no, onion rings.”
“Beer? Something stronger? You on the clock?” Andy tossed a patty onto the grill, the sizzle and smell making her stomach rumble.
“Leinie’s, please.”
Andy set the beer and a glass on the bar, but Serena grabbed the bottle, the pale amber liquid hitting the back of her throat in a smooth rush. When she set the bottle back on the bar, Andy was watching her.
“Long day?”
“Very.”
“I heard about the kid on the lake. It’s all over the news. Is that yours?”
Serena nodded, taking another swallow of beer. “Yeah. I’m lead.” She shook her head. “It’s my job, you know? But sometimes it’s a little…much.”
“I bet.” Andy turned back to the grill and Serena glanced up at the television. The local news was just starting and they were running the tape of Nowinski’s press conference. She watched, a tiny flag of resentment slowly unfurling in her stomach. He looked cool and professional, wearing his usual dark three-piece suit and crisp white shirt, subdued tie perfectly knotted at his throat. Even without the sound turned up he commanded the small screen, and she imagined his words, grave and reassuring, being recorded and written down, repeated and replayed everywhere. It should have been her up there.
Serena sighed. It was what it was and she needed to put it behind her and focus on the case. And with thoughts of the case, unbidden, came the memory of Wes, his hands on her body, his mouth on hers. A soft echo of the arousal she’d felt in his arms coursed through her and she remembered the feel of his body beneath her hands, the hard contours of his chest and arms, his eyes in the shadows. She played back every second of their kiss, still not sure who started it, not really caring at that moment.