Secret of the Wolf(31)

"Whom you managed not to hurt," Ash muttered, his scowl deepening. "Good going there."

"Yeah, I screwed up, thanks for not rubbing it in." Barry looked at Tori. "I'm glad you're my liaison and not this jerk."

"You wanna see a jerk? I'll show you a jerk, you little pissant." Ash took a step forward, the dark amber of disgust darkening his eyes.

"Ash," Tori warned.

He paused, fists clenched.

Barry sighed and plopped onto the lone metal bunk bolted to the wall. His glower was directed solely at Ash. "It's not like I woke up one morning in 1939 and said, ‘Hey! I think I'll turn into a werewolf today.'"

None of them had asked for this life. All of them did the best they could, some better than others. Barry wasn't one of them.

"Just what did you do to get sent through the rift?" Ash rested his hands on his hips and stared at Barry, curiosity shining through the lingering distaste in his eyes.

"You remember how the government passed what amounted to a three-strikes-and-you're-out law?"

Tori vaguely remembered that law being enacted a few years before her own trip through the rift. "They still had that one on the books?"

"Yeah." Barry shrugged. "I was in the wrong place with the wrong people at the wrong time. And now I'm here." He gestured to the cell.

"And still making bad choices," Ash said.

Barry popped off the bunk and headed toward the bars.

Testosterone-laden anger filled Tori's nostrils with a heavy odor of cloves. She threw out an arm and shoved him back. "Stop it, both of you." She frowned at Ash. "We've all done things we're not proud of, things we'd take back if we could. But there is no easy button in life, and pointing out Barry's shortcomings isn't helping at all." She sighed. "Just … keep me posted on your current case, okay?"

"Sure." Ash sent a lingering stare Barry's way, then looked at Tori again. "You coming?"





Dante leaned over the schematics and fought the urge to open up the device. That was something that should be done with Tori around. But these schematics were fascinating. Just as he started to trace a couple of lines with his finger to see where they ended, his cell phone rang. Manny Ramirez was on the line.

"Manny," Dante said in greeting. "You still at the conference in Vegas?"

"Yeah." Manny's heavy sigh came across the speaker. "I was going to stay another day, get a break from the job and the family …  You know, have a ‘me' day. Then my wife called. Her mother's health is failing and Rosa needs to go take care of her. I need to get home to be with the kids. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, but with five of them, there's never any time to be alone."

"Then why'd you have five kids?"

" 'Cause we didn't want more than that," Manny said completely deadpan.

Dante chuckled at his friend's droll humor. "I'm sorry to hear about you searaidr mother-in-law. Where does she live?"

"El Paso." He paused for a second and then muttered, "God, I hate to fly."

"The conference was worth it though, right?" Slouching down, Dante stretched his legs out under the table.

"Yeah." The other man cleared his throat. "Listen, I wanna run something by you, get your opinion."

Dante straightened. "Shoot."

"Ash and I think that the suspect is leaving either a clue or a signature." He lowered his voice. "Six stones, pieces of trash, or other debris are left at the scene in a perfect line."

"At each scene?"

"Yep. I didn't notice it at the first one, but after I saw it at the second and again at the third, I went over the crime scene photos and, sure enough, there it was. Always in a grouping of six."

"And you think the suspect has done this?" Dante figured it was a logical conclusion and one he would come to if it were his case.

"Sure. I mean, having it at all three scenes can't be a coincidence, right?" Manny heaved a sigh. "Ash called to tell me there haven't been any attacks since I've been out of town."

Dante raised his brows. "Is there something you wanna tell me, buddy?"

"What?" Manny muttered something in Spanish under his breath. "I am not a werewolf."

Dante's Spanish wasn't the best, but it sounded like Manny had questioned his parentage. He grinned, then sobered as he thought about the case. "Even if the suspect is lining all these things up in a row, he's not leaving any usable evidence, so it's really not going to help us much."

"Other than establishing a profile."

Dante thought about what Manny had said. He cast his mind back to a profiling class he'd gone through a few years back. "A signature would be something he's compelled to do, something that may or may not have anything to do with the actual crime. Maybe he's OCD." He sat up and leaned his elbows on the table. "What does Ash think?"

"He pretty much came up with the same thing. Said he talked to the werewolf liaison in your quadrant and she agrees. So does my captain." Manny cleared his throat again. "I just wanted your opinion."

Dante gave a little shrug. "It works for me." He heaved a sigh. "Guess that means you just need to be on the lookout for a rogue werewolf with OCD. Shouldn't be too hard," he said with a bit of sarcasm.

"Yeah, right. At least it's something."

Something was better than nothing, though not by much.

                       
       
           



       Chapter Thirteen



Around ten o'clock that night, Dante couldn't get Tori on the phone, so he decided to head over to her place. He wanted to talk to her about what Manny had said about the rogue's signature; plus, he wanted to return the rift device and schematics. He was more than willing to lock them up in his gun safe, but she hadn't said she wanted him to keep them yet.

He knew Tori usually didn't go to bed until close to midnight, so he wasn't worried about waking her. But when she didn't answer, his concern for her grew. He banged on the door with his fist.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he heard Randall yell. In another couple of seconds the door swung open and Tori's brother stood there with his hand on the knob and a scowl on his face. His hair was wet and he was wrapped in a navy-blue robe. He must have just gotten out of the shower. "What the … " His gaze hardened. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?"

tal vf hisanted yI do, actually." Dante didn't like Tori's brother. At their introduction, the guy had been a jerk, and Dante didn't see much change now. Granted, he'd shown up on their doorstep late at night, but from what he understood, Randall was out late most nights anyway. "Is Tori around? She's not answering her phone," he said by way of explanation.

"She's sleeping."

Dante frowned. "Is she all right?"

"What's it to you?" Randall crossed his arms.

Dante tightened his jaw. While he was sure it would be highly satisfying to plant his fist in this little prick's jaw, he was equally sure Tori wouldn't appreciate it. He was also sure he wouldn't be leaving the rift device and schematics here tonight. "We're friends. I'm concerned."

"Right. Friends." Randall didn't seem too keen on the idea. "She's fine."

At first Dante didn't give a damn whether Randall wanted him to be friends with Tori. But then he figured one of them had to be the grown-up here, for Tori's sake. He'd make an effort to connect with her brother. Pasting what he hoped came across as an interested expression on his face, he asked, "So, how'd the council meet and greet go?"

Randall just stared at him.

"I've never been to one, obviously," Dante said. "I was just curious about it."

"Yeah, humans don't get invited to those. Just prets." Randall gave a careless shrug. The fingers of one hand began drumming against his thigh. "I didn't go."

"Really?" Dante knew enough about these things to know they were a big deal as far as the council was concerned. A really big deal, yet Tori's brother hadn't bothered to go. "Why?"

"Wasn't interested in meeting the council." The look on Randall's face suggested he was confused and irritated at Dante's probing. "Anyway, what's it to you? You're not my keeper."

Oh, yeah. Tori's brother was a douche bag and not scoring any points here. "I imagine your not showing up isn't going to make things any easier on your sister." At Randall's low growl, Dante held up one hand and said, "Look, man, I was just trying to get to know you a little, that's all."

"Yeah, well, man, I'm not interested in that, either." His sneer was pronounced. "I'll let Tori know you stopped by."

"Thanks. Ask her to call me, will you?"

Without responding, Randall closed the door with a solid click.

All Dante wanted to do was remind her about having dinner at his place the next night. He hoped her little punk of a brother would give her the message, though Dante suspected he wouldn't.

The next morning, his belly full of eggs, bacon, and toast, he drove to the station. His cell phone rang, and as he pulled it free from its holder his heart jumped at the thought that Tori might be calling. When he saw the main dispatch number on the display, he squelched his disappointment, his greeting less than enthusiastic.