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Her pack wouldn’t take her ass back if she’d gone Rogue.
Erin’s head lifted. Her long lashes were spiky, wet. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I just want things to go back to normal.”
Ah, normal. That word again. The one she liked so much. “Not gonna happen.” His nose twitched. So many scents were assaulting him now that his enhanced smell was back. But, what was?—
Hell.
He pushed Erin behind him and glared at the door.
“Jude!” Erin’s nails scraped down his arm. “It’s her!” Looked like Erin’s sense of smell was working, too.
This time, he could catch the lighter, feminine scent of the wolf shifter. Yet knowing that it was Erin’s mother on the other side of that door didn’t make him relax his guard for a second. No, it only made him tense more. “Stay back.”
He grabbed the doorknob. Wrenched it open?—
And came face-to-face with Erin. No, not his Erin. An older version, one with faint lines around her eyes. One whose face was more haggard, whose hair was a bit shorter.
And whose eyes were more yellow than gold.
Sonofabitch.
She stared at him, measuring him. Then one black brow shot up, and she said in a voicetoo much like Erin’s, “You gonna stand there staring all night, cat, or are you gonna let me see my daughter?”
* * *
Detective Ben Greer eased under the bright yellow line of police tape, his gun holster pressing into his side. He’d had exactly two days of vacation—two days of sitting on his ass and going insane at the cabin—and then he’d gotten the call about Donald Trent.
Trent.Like he’d ever forget that bastard. He would have bet a year’s salary that Trent had offed his wife a few months back. Not that Ben had enough evidence to prove the suspicion, though.
But after being on the job for ten years, some things were just pure instinct.
Trent was a killer. A psychopath who got off on hurting women. If Trent’s body really was buried in those woods, then the women in Lillian would be one hell of a lot safer, and their sleep would be easier.
“Detective!”
A female in uniform waved him over. Kristen Langley was still pretty fresh to the force, but she was a fast learner, and she knew how to keep a scene safe.
“What have we got?” he asked as his gaze swept the area. That house. He’d been there before. Been to tell Katherine LaShaun the news about her daughter. He’d seen the boys, peeking from behind the stairs.
Sometimes, the job really sucked.
“The dogs found something...” Excitement had her voice cracking. “Come on, we’re pretty sure it’s?—”
Ben ran past her. He could hear voices rising in the distance. The rest of the team. He caught the thud of a shovel. Dammit, they’d better be careful with his scene.
He twisted, avoiding the thick brush as best he could, then he broke into the prime search perimeter area with his group. Stumbling to a halt, he eyed the large hole his men had sectioned off. Not too deep. Not deep at all, really. The spotlights lit up the area, and in the black dirt, he saw the faded blue fabric.
A shirt. Ragged.
More of the thick dirt was carefully brushed aside, and he glimpsed?—
Bones.
“Think it’s Trent?” Kristen asked, that excitement still in her voice.
He glanced at her, mouth grim. “It’s him.” Tests would have to be done. Dental records checked. But he could see a long, thin necklace, one with intertwined snake heads, twisting across the bones.
Trent had worn that piece of crap around his neck every time Ben had seen him.
