Cooper lifted a brow. “Wow, that’s pretty…epic.”
Becker chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is. Of course, now I have to find her, or I’ll be the werewolf known for losing the woman who might just be The One.”
He was about to hop out of the crate when a little slip of paper different in color than the rest of the packing material caught his eye. He picked it up to get a better look.
It was a partial receipt from a Starbucks for a cinnamon dolce latte with a time stamp from three days ago just before noon. Unfortunately, the part with the credit card information was missing. There wasn’t even a store number or address. He had no idea which Starbucks the latte had been purchased at or the name of the person who had bought it, but he didn’t need any of that.
“What’s that?” Cooper asked, leaning in for a look.
Becker held up the tiny scrap of paper so his friend could see it. “This is the clue that’s going to help me find a certain female werewolf.”
Cooper frowned. “How do you even know it’s hers?”
Becker held the piece of paper under Cooper’s nose. “Of course it’s hers. Smell it.”
Cooper sniffed, then shrugged. “If you say so. I’ll agree that might be a werewolf’s scent on there, maybe even female, but that doesn’t mean it’s hers. She could have sat on it or something. That receipt could lead you to Mario the plumber.”
Becker vaulted out of the crate with a laugh. “I don’t know why you even bother sniffing anything. Your nose hasn’t been right since you were trapped down in that tunnel full of homemade explosives a few months ago. Trust me, this thing smells like cherry lollipops. It’s hers.”
“Okay, let’s assume you’re right and that piece of paper belonged to your mystery werewolf girl,” Cooper said as they headed for the exit. “There’s nothing on it. How’s it going to help you find her?”
“That’s the easy part,” Becker told him as they walked out of the warehouse. He nodded at the poor patrolman still standing at the gate. “All I have to do is get on a computer and start violating about a hundred state and federal laws. I should have an answer by tomorrow.”
“I probably don’t want to know exactly what you’re planning on doing,” Cooper said. “That way, I can’t be forced to testify against you when the NSA swoops in and arrests your ass.”
“Probably a good idea,” Becker agreed as he climbed on his bike and cranked it into rumbling life.
Cooper leaned in close to be heard over the engine. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Becker didn’t answer. His best friend was offering to do something illegal if Becker told him it would help find his mystery werewolf. All he had to do was ask.
But just because Cooper would willingly risk everything to help him find this woman didn’t mean Becker had the right to ask him. Becker liked to think the female werewolf wasn’t like the other werewolves at the warehouse, that she was simply in over her head, but he didn’t know that. If he was able to track her down, it might be to discover she wasn’t the woman he thought.
If any of this went bad, it probably wouldn’t end well for him—or anyone helping him.
He shook his head. “Nah. I just to need some time to find her. Do you think you could cover for me with Gage and Xander? I can’t do what I have in mind with those crappy computers we have in the office.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Cooper said. “But be careful, okay? People catch you hacking, getting kicked off the SWAT team will be the least of your problems. The feds put people in prison for the crap you’re talking about doing.”
Becker nodded absently, already busy developing a plan—one that involved him hacking into Starbucks’s credit card system to figure out which stores in the greater Dallas/Fort Worth area had sold a cinnamon dolce latte around the time stamp on the receipt. Then he’d slip into the array of traffic cameras around the city to take a peek at the stores in question. All he had to do then was match the face of the werewolf he was looking for with a credit card receipt, and he’d have her.
He was so engrossed in the technical challenge that lay ahead of him—not to mention groaning at the thought of how many hours he’d have to spend looking at grainy video footage—that he barely remembered his friend was still there until Cooper gripped his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Cooper said. “I know you really want to find this woman, but you need to be careful. Even if she is everything you hope she is, that doesn’t mean her pack mates are going to be too friendly if they figure out you’re the one who killed some of their members.”