Frank leaned in closer. “The texts he sent his pack suggest he travelled down to Brighton and was enjoying a few days down there. He even extended his stay.”
“Yeah, but the local alpha down there is adamant Wilson never arrived in their territory.” Michael stared at the file. “Even if Wilson’s not our guy, there’s something very wrong with this picture.”
Bridgford straightened. “Come on, Arch. It’s too much of a coincidence that we have a shifter serial killer, and now suddenly a missing shifter. They’ve got to be one and the same.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Fuck. He ran a hand through his hair—too long and in need of a cut. How did Dale Wilson, a shifter visiting from Nottinghamshire tie in with Daryl White? It didn’t seem possible that he’d got to know White so well in such a short time that he’d kill for him. But Michael still trusted his gut feeling that White was involved in some way. He just didn’t know how, exactly. “Maybe the council can shed some light on it tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope so, because this case gets weirder by the day.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aaron stood in front of the mirror Tuesday morning wondering whether or not to apply make-up. By rights, he should still have a bit of bruising on his face if he was healing at a human rate. Maybe yellowing slightly by now, but there’d still be some evidence of his last fight.
They’d been summoned to the SCTF offices to meet with the alpha council—just the thought alone made him nervous—and he didn’t know whether to risk that someone connected to Smith would see him or risk some awkward question from the council members. If he went in there with a marked-up face, they were going to want to know what was going on. And then Aaron would have to explain everything. Which he might well have to anyway. He wasn’t sure exactly why they were going. Sam hadn’t said, just that they needed to be at the SCTF offices by eleven thirty that morning. Detective Archer,Michael, had said before that the council were giving the SCTF two weeks to sort this out before they offered their help. No way had it been two weeks.
A knock sounded on Aaron’s bathroom door, and then Harry popped his head around it. “Come on, Aaron, you’re not even dressed yet. We need to be out front in less than twenty minutes. What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Aaron pointed to his face. “Debating whether to add a bit of bruising or not.”
“Definitely not. On the slim chance the council don’t know about our visits to illegal boxing matches, we shouldn’t give them any reason to find out. And you walking in there with a face full of bruises will have them asking all sorts of questions.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
Harry sighed. “I know you’re worried about someone from the fights seeing you all healed, but we’re only going from here to the SCTF place, and we’ll be in Isaac’s big black SUV with its handily tinted windows. No one’s going to see you.”
He made a very good point. Aaron was probably worrying over nothing. “You’re right.”
“I know I am.” Harry grinned and reached in to give him a playful shove. “Now hurry up and get ready so we can go. If we’re late getting downstairs, I’m telling Isaac it was your fault.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Harry ducked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Aaron stared at his reflection again, the silvery scar above his eyebrow standing out against the rest of his unmarked skin. Shifter healing couldn’t do anything about that. He’d got it well before he was bitten—in the days where he was scrawny and smaller than everyone else. His gaze drifted lower to the tattoo on his chest. Another thing he’d got before taking the bite. Unlike his scar, looking at his tattoo brought back happy memories. It made his heart swell and his chest ache because of the woman who’d encouraged him to get it. Aaron missed his nan fiercely, but she’d always be with him now.
Not that he thought she’d approve of the mess he’d got himself in at the minute. His nan hadn’t been a stickler for rules, but she’d always taught Aaron that laws were there for a reason and should be respected, as should the police. She’d probably have liked Michael—
For fuck’s sake, he needed to stop that right now.
Turning on the cold water, Aaron splashed his face, both to wake himself up a little and to get his focus back on the important things—like getting through a meeting with the alpha council and not ending up in Krillick Hall. Or banished from his pack. Or both.
Ugh, today was going to suck.
He was dressed and ready to go with five minutes to spare, but Harry was still stood waiting by the door, Aaron’s keys and wallet in hand, urging him to hurry up. “Come on.”
“I’m ready! Calm down.” He knew Harry was as nervous as he was, but him acting all jumpy and panicked wasn’t helping Aaron’s attempts to remain calm. “It’s going to be fine.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t.
“How do you know that the SCTF haven’t told the council everything? All about you fighting, me gambling, all those lovely illegal activities that we took part in. They might be there solely for us, nothing to do with the investigation.”
Aaron didn’t know that either. “Maybe Sam’ll shed some light on it when we get in the car.”
Harry wasn’t placated at all. “Great. We’ll be in a confined space with our alpha while he tells us what fuck-ups we are.”
