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He either ignored me or was saving his response for a better time. “Matt, the assistant professor from my paranormal law class, is coming down. He’s an associate at a law firm in the city that deals with supernaturally related cases. You know, vampire estate law and that sort of thing.”
Vampire. Estate. Law.
“Has he ever worked a criminal case before?”
“Nothing of this magnitude. There hasn’t been anything of this magnitude before. I’m sure werewolves have killed people before, but it’s never been public like this.”
“This isn’t public yet.”
“It will be.”
He was right. There was no way we were going to be able to sweep this under the rug. What was worse, he was also right about it being time to call Callum. I hadn’t been gone long, but in the time since I’d left home so much had happened. It was pretty remarkable, actually, getting into this much trouble in no time at all. Maybe it was a McQueen thing. If so, I was doing the family proud.
“Come on, I rented a room at that place you mentioned. It’s not much to look at, but it’s clean according to the bedbug registry, so I’ll take what I can get.”
“I slept on a cot in a drunk tank last night. The idea of a real bed sounds glorious.” What I didn’t tell him was how grateful I was for his choice of location. He could have chosen a town farther away, but his desire for convenience meant I got to stay close to Franklinton. And while Cash worked on getting Wilder free and planned Hank’s defense, I would be able to poke around and find out what was really going on.
I opened the plastic baggy the desk clerk had given me and pulled out my phone, relieved to see it still had some battery, even after all I’d used it for. My portable charger was worth its weight in gold. I had dozens of missed calls and texts, but as I went to check them my ink-stained fingertips caught my attention. I stared at them for a second, wondering how it had come to this.
I had come awfully close to having a criminal record, and my fingerprints were in the database now. Forever and ever I would know I’d been arrested. Cash was right, this wasn’t the person I had been before, not even a few weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if I liked this version of myself better or worse. It was just…different.
On the way to the hotel we stopped at a drive thru and got some burgers that were so greasy their paper wrappers were clear by the time we got to our room. I sat on the edge of the bed, the generic paisley print comforter crinkling in a peculiar way underneath me, and ate my burger while Cash made more phone calls. The whole time he acted like I wasn’t in the room. When he left to take a call outside, I abandoned my cooling fries and pulled out my own cell, dialing Callum’s office number from speed dial.
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
Oh, he’d definitely noticed I was missing then.
“Franklinton.”
I heard him say something to someone else before he spoke again. “I’m sending Ben to come get you. Stay where you are.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Well…yes, I’m staying where I am, but no you’re not sending Ben. I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need someone to come in and rescue me.”
“Did Wilder force you to go?” His voice was low and trembled with menace. I was glad Wilder wasn’t around to hear it because the implied threat was frightening even to me.
“No. Of course not.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I barked a laugh. “That’s insane. He didn’t lay a finger on me. I swear I left of my own free will. Didn’t you get my note?”
The line filled with chilly silence. “A note is not acceptable, Eugenia. A note is not how we communicate in this household.”
“No, we communicate by sending out underlings to do our dirty work. We communicate by making Amelia call to tell me you’re worried. That’s how things get done in the McQueen household, isn’t it?”
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked.
I was getting tired of people implying my behavior was so alarming to them. This was just me speaking up for myself. That it bothered everyone so much said they were used to me letting them have their way. Well not anymore.
“I came here to do what you should have done. I came with Wilder to help a member of our pack, and it’s a damn good thing I did, because now at least one of us knows what’s really happening out here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The public spectacle Deerling warned us about? It wasn’t killing Hank. I don’t think he ever intended on a public execution. He’s using Hank as a scapegoat for his cause. A woman is dead, Hank is being charged, and pretty soon the whole world is going to think werewolves are bloodthirsty monsters who can’t be trusted. The Church is going to get exactly what they wanted out of this. Maureen Cranston and CAPA are getting Christmas early this year.”
