Unspoken Page 7

  He had to think a second to remember what she’d asked. “If Eddie came in, the FRU would just pin the murder on him. They wouldn’t even look for this other guy.”

  “You don’t know that,” she accused. “And his name isn’t Eddie!”

  “Yes, I do know that, and so do you. And since he pulled me out of that plane crash and saved my life I’ve known him as Eddie.” Right then, he felt it, that odd kind of cold he got when Della’s dead aunt had been hanging around. He tucked his fists into his jean pockets.

  Della stared down the dark alley, her fist clutching and then releasing. Was that still the panic, or was her aunt back to cause trouble? Then she swung around to face him. “We need to go back.”

  “Back…?” It was almost too cold to think.

  “To the park. One or more of those weres might be a murderer.”

  “Yeah, but the cops are there.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She started forward as if to take off in flight.

  He caught her. “It matters. If we just show up they’ll suspect that we were part of it. I don’t think Burnett would appreciate having to bail us out of jail.”

  “They could be the ones who killed some people I cared about.” Her voice shook and her breath caused a puff of steam to lift from her lips. She looked again down the alley.

  “Is that who’s here?” he asked.

  Della’s head snapped back. “Can you see her?”

  “No.” At least he hoped not. He wasn’t going to chance it and look down that alley. “I feel the cold.”

  “She was my neighbor.” Her voice was edged with pain and grief.

  He realized Della hadn’t pulled away. He’d give his right arm if she would just lean on him a little. Della wasn’t the type to lean on people very often, but when she did need it, he wanted to be the person she’d turn to.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “You’re not the only one who’s sorry. Which is why I have to go back.”

  He tightened his hold. “Going back there is a bad idea.” But she had a point. The FRU needed to interrogate the weres before the regular cops released them.

  “I’ll call Burnett.” No doubt Burnett would be furious that Chase was with Della. Probably earn Chase a good chewing out, but it didn’t even matter.

  Della’s phone dinged with a text. As if she suddenly realized he was touching her, she glared at his hand on her arm and pulled away, then snatched her phone from her pocket. After reading the message, she looked up, puzzled.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s Burnett. He wants to know if we’re okay.”

  Chase frowned. “He knows?”

  “It seems that way.” She started texting back.

  Before she finished, Chase got the vamp’s scent. So did Della, because her fingers stopped moving. Chase’s gut knotted, preparing to get hell.

  Burnett hadn’t gotten secure on his feet when Della said, “Don’t start giving me crap. All I did was take the long way home. And if I hadn’t, some poor girl would—”

  “I’m not giving you crap,” Burnett said.

  Is that because he’s saving it all to give to me? Chase stood quiet, dreading what might be forthcoming.

  “You okay?” Burnett asked Della.

  “Fine.” She sounded offended by the inquiry.

  “Did you get any traces off them?” Burnett asked. “Are they the same ones from earlier?”

  “They aren’t the boys I saw walking. I didn’t get a good enough trace to know if they were the same scents from the jewelry store. I think they’re only half were.”

  “But they are the ones I smelled earlier with animal blood on them,” Chase said.

  Both Della and Burnett looked at him.

  “You were here earlier?” Burnett asked.

  Della didn’t appear surprised; she knew he’d been in the area. But she hadn’t told Burnett. Was she trying to protect him from the big bad Burnett? Chase liked that thought.

  “Yes, before I came to Shadow Falls. Around seven.”

  “So about the time of the murder,” Burnett said. “Did you get a visual?”

  “No, just a trace.”

  Burnett stood there as if trying to grasp it all. “The blood, was it—”

  “I didn’t hang around to identify it as feline.” When Burnett looked surprised, Chase added, “I saw Lucas when he came back. He told me about the cat. That’s why I came here, to the murder scene … to see if I could still pick up the were scents.” And to go check out some scumbags. But he didn’t say that.

  Burnett didn’t appear pissed. Was he just holding back until he had Chase alone? Burnett stared at the sky as if trying to come up with a plan. “Della,” he said. “Head back home. Straight home.”

  Della frowned. “But—”

  “Don’t argue. If your parents find you’re gone, it would just cause more trouble.”

  Chase saw the spark of anger in her eyes, but she nodded. She respected Burnett that much. That was part of the reason Chase respected him too.

  “Will you text and let me know if you get a confession?”

  “Yes.”

  She took off without offering Chase a goodbye or even a go-to-hell glare. He’d have preferred the glare to nothing. Nothing stung a little.

  Burnett turned his dark, accusing gaze on Chase.

  “I wasn’t planning to see Della,” he said.

  “I know.” He started walking back toward the park.

  Chase caught up with him. “How do you know?”

  “I had you followed.”

  The words raked across Chase’s nerves. “That’s underhanded, isn’t it?”

  “No,” Burnett said, unconcerned if Chase was pissed.

  “So you have the right to have me tailed?”

  “Until I trust you, I do.”

  And how the hell long would that be? Then logic hit. “You didn’t have me followed. I’d have picked up their scent.”

  “Not if it was Perry,” Burnett clipped out.

  Perry was one of the best shape-shifters out there. And the really good shifters could shift their scents so they weren’t distinguishable. But Perry was supposed to be in France … with Steve.

  “Are Perry and … Steve back?”

  “Got back yesterday.” Burnett cut Chase a quick glance. “And there will be no trouble, got that?”

  As long as Steve stayed away from Della, Chase had no problem. “I hear you.”

  “You had best do more than hear,” Burnett warned. “At the first hint of trouble you’ll be house hunting. Steve is my student. You are an unwanted boarder.”

  Chase gripped his jaw to keep from smarting off.

  After a few more steps, Burnett added, “And since you don’t seem interested in sleeping tonight, why don’t you go with me to interview the weres?”

  Chase recalled his other appointment. He figured he’d missed that window of opportunity. Tomorrow.

  “Sure.”

  * * *

  “No!” The scream, her mom’s scream, had Della jackknifing out of bed at seven that morning. Had she dreamed it? Must have, right? She fell back on her bed.

  It had been three in the morning when she’d gotten a text from Burnett saying they were still waiting for permission to move the weres to the FRU offices. It had been four when Della let go of her anger and the memory of being so close to Chase and let slumber pull her in. The scream echoed again. She popped back up and yanked open her bedroom door, flying down the stairs in two seconds flat.

  It was her mom.

  “What’s wrong?” Della yelled, flashing into the kitchen and into the room’s icy temperature. The distinct cold was a dead ringer for the … dead.

  Her mom stood in front of the table, her hands knuckled around the back of a wooden chair. Her gaze locked on … Della’s heart stopped. There sitting at the table was Mrs. Chi, her throat gaping open, exposing an Adam’s apple and veins and some other nasty stuff.

  Was that how she’d
died? Someone had sliced her throat? Della’s own throat hurt.

  She swallowed back her gag reflex and looked at her mom. Something was terribly wrong. And it wasn’t just Mrs. Chi’s throat. It was … it was … How the hell could her mom see Mrs. Chi?

  “What … is it?” Della pushed out the three-word sentence, telling herself she’d simply misunderstood. Her mom wasn’t seeing the ghost. Could she?

  “Mrs. Chi,” her mom muttered, terror and tears in her eyes.

  Holy shit! Her mom could see Mrs. Chi. How was that even possible? Maybe this was a dream. She pinched her leg. It hurt. This wasn’t a nightmare.

  “Don’t look at her.” Della pulled her mom’s shoulders around so she’d face Della and not the dead woman.

  Her mom blinked at Della as if confused. “They didn’t show her. They just said…”

  That’s when Della realized that behind the table and behind Mrs. Chi’s bloody body, was a television. On the screen, a news reporter stood in front of the Chis’ store, recounting the horror that had taken place last night. Della’s chest burned again at the injustice of it.

  She cut her eyes toward Mrs. Chi. So sorry.

  Taking a deep breath, so cold her lungs were in danger of getting frost bitten, she tried to stop the panic from building. Stopping it wasn’t easy, not when Mrs. Chi looked down at her blood-stained blouse in puzzlement. She lifted her head, exposing her sliced throat again, and her eyes met Della’s. What happened?

  Footsteps sounded behind her. “What’s wrong?” came her father’s panicked voice.

  “The news.” Her mom, tears making her eyes shine, motioned to the television. “Mr. and Mrs. Chi were found murdered in their shop last night. That poor, poor couple. Who could do something like that?”

  Murdered? The elderly woman shot up from the chair, and a … a bloody basketball rolled across the kitchen’s white tile floor, leaving a bloody streak until it bounced against her father’s bare feet.

  Of course he didn’t feel it. Didn’t see it. This was for Della’s eyes only. Lucky her! Not. What the hell was Mrs. Chi doing with a basketball?

  Mrs. Chi walked in front of Della. Her slanted eyes filled with puzzlement. Where’s my husband? Where did he go?

  Chills ran down Della’s arms.

  “How … how could that have happened?” her dad muttered, his gaze on the television, where the reporter continued talking. Then he swung around and stared right at her.

  Did she still have bruises? She ran her tongue over her lip, it was all healed. Her face should be, too. So why was he …

  “How could it happen?” he asked again, as if … as if she herself had the answer.

  “I … don’t know.” Della answered, trying to read the emotion in his dark eyes. Emotion that looked a lot like …

  He blinked. “That’s awful.” He stormed out of the kitchen almost as quickly as he’d come in.

  Della rubbed a hand up her arm to fight off the cold, both from Mrs. Chi’s presence and from her father’s expression. Then she glanced at her mom. “What was that about?”

  “What?” her mom asked, dropping down in a chair.

  “Daddy … he acted as if…”

  “As if what?”

  “Nothing,” Della said and stared after her dad. Suddenly an answer started to come together—bits and pieces connecting, and with it came a lot of pain. Was that why…? Oh, God, she thought she finally understood what was really going on—what had been going on for months. With the understanding she felt the foundation of her life crumbling right under her feet. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Except go down with it.

  Chapter Ten

  Chase sat in Burnett’s office at the FRU headquarters. He knew it was Burnett’s because the walls were decorated with images of Holiday and Hannah. For one second, his tired mind wondered what it was like. To have a kid. With Della. Not that he was ready for that. Heck, he had to steal kisses. He couldn’t hold her when he wanted to. Or sleep with her when he wanted to. And he really wanted to.

  His body recalled how it had felt to have her so close to him when he’d flown away from the weres. He let out a deep gulp of frustration, wishing that the remedy would come sooner rather than later.

  The computer hummed, still thinking about Chase’s request. He had asked Burnett’s permission to use the computer, which had a few FRU programs on it, to do a search for anyone named Douglas Stone or Don Williams. It had found six people in the Houston area with the name Stone and ten with the name Don Williams.

  Now Chase waited for it to spew out the addresses and information on them. Better to stay busy than just sit and twiddle his thumbs. But watching a computer screen wasn’t exactly busy. He stretched his neck to one side then the other. The chair squeaked and his neck popped, relieving very little of his tension.

  The computer kept churning and so did Chase’s patience—from lack of sleep, no doubt. He really only needed three or four hours, but he’d been running on two a night for the last week and none at all tonight, so that didn’t help. Neither did thinking about Steve being back at Shadow Falls. Not that he was …

  Chase Tallman wasn’t jealous. Nope. But damned if he didn’t feel something. Something that felt wrong, like too-tight underwear. And why the hell had he spent so much time wondering exactly what Della had told her girlfriend about the shape-shifter?

  Leaning back in the chair, a frown pulled his lips downward and he raised his arms over his head, glancing from the computer screen to the blinds. The first rays of sun spilled through the slits and he groaned. The weres still hadn’t arrived from the local jail. They had only arrested four, three had gotten away, but one, the one they’d pulled from a tree, was hospitalized. Perhaps Chase should have felt a little bad, but he didn’t.

  No telling what they’d have done to Della if he hadn’t gotten there. Sure, he knew Della could handle herself pretty damn well, but not with that many weres this close to a full moon—even half weres. So yeah, he kind of wished they’d all sustained injuries.

  What he did feel bad about was not being able to give any physical descriptions of any of the weres that got away. He’d been so intent on protecting Della, he’d never looked at a face. And according to Burnett, who’d texted Della the same question, she hadn’t been able to offer much either.

  The computer finally changed screens and gave him the information on the Douglas Stones and Don Williamses. Chase sat up so fast, the chair cried out as if complaining the wrong person was sitting in it—as if it knew he wasn’t Burnett.

  He hit print. Folding it up, he tucked it in his pocket.

  The door to the office swung open. Burnett stuck his head in, looking way too rested, considering he hadn’t slept either. “The weres are here. You ready?”

  “More than.” He popped up and met the man at the door.

  “What did you find?” Burnett asked.

  “Lots of names,” Chase said and pulled out the list and handed it to him.

  “It’s a long shot,” Burnett said, as if considering it. “But I’ve seen them pay off.”

  “I sure as hell hope so.” His gut said his relationship with Della depended on solving this case. And solving it fast.

  “You want to do the interrogating?” Burnett asked. “Show me what you got.”

  * * *

  “First, let’s see if you recognize any of these guys’ scent as the one with the animal blood,” Burnett told Chase. One by one Burnett led him into three small rooms with a two-way mirror and shared air ducts.

  Their scents were familiar, but from the scuffle at the park, not the ones he’d traced earlier.

  “Maybe it was the ones who got away,” Chase said.

  “Go find out.” Burnett motioned to the mirror. “All of their legs are chained, but we didn’t cuff them, so don’t get too close. I’ll be watching if you get into any trouble.”

  “I got this.” Chase swung the door open to the first room, then slammed it shut
.

  The were, no older than eighteen, had his head down. He jerked upright, his eyes glowing golden yellow. The sound of heavy iron shackles wrapped around his ankles clinked on the concrete floor.

  Chase let his own eyes grow bright just to show the half were he meant business.

  He moved to the opposite side of the metal table, where a pen and a piece of paper rested. He placed his palms on the tabletop. Leaning in, he took a deep gulp of air. As he did, he spotted a smear of blood on the guy’s knuckles, Della’s blood. He felt his eyes grow hotter and he forced himself to hold his emotions in check. But damned if he didn’t want to grab the twerp by the neck and give him a few swings around the room.

  “You’re the same guy who…” The were smirked. “A little young to be an agent, aren’t you?”

  “My age doesn’t concern you. What matters is that I’ve got what it takes.”

  He laughed. “Oh, you act so tough walking in here, but how many of your friends do you have watching out there?” He motioned to the mirror he obviously knew was a window.

  “Not nearly enough to stop me from kicking your ass if I want to,” Chase tossed out.

  The were bolted out of his seat, nearly overturning the table. Chase, ready to act, caught him by the throat, and squeezed just tight enough that the ass-wipe knew he was serious. Then he pushed him back into his chair.

  The were gasped for air.

  “Now, stay down and listen. You might be able to get yourself out of this mess with a lighter sentence.”

  “For what?” the rogue spit out.

  Chase stared the were right in his orange eyes. “The girl you and your friends ganged up on is a friend of mine.”

  “We didn’t go looking for that bitch, she came to us.”

  Chase leaned down, his nose almost touching the rogue’s, almost daring the were to try something again. “If you hadn’t been after that young girl, she’d have never joined you!”

  “We weren’t gonna do anything bad to that chick. Just scare some sense into her. She should have known better than to be out in the park at that time of night.”

  “You’ve got an excuse for everything, don’t you? What excuse are you going to give me for not writing down the names of everyone who was with you?”