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"Tell me I don't have reason to be jealous, Anita. Make me believe it."
I sighed. "Go away, Richard. I've still got to clean my guns and knife before I can go to bed."
He smiled and shook his head. "I guess tonight didn't reassure you about how human I am." He walked around the couch and bent over, retrieving his sweater from the floor, where it lay neatly folded.
He pulled the sweater over his head. He pulled a ponytail holder from his jeans pocket, and tied his hair back. I could see the muscles in his arms work even through the sweater. He slipped his shoes on, bending over to tie them.
His coat was long, falling to his ankles. In the half light it looked like a cape.
"I don't suppose I get a kiss, either."
"Good night, Richard," I said.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Good night, Anita."
He left. I locked the door. I cleaned my weapons and went to bed. After the show that Richard and Jean-Claude had put on, the Browning was about the only thing I wanted in bed with me tonight. All right, the gun and one stuffed penguin.
32
The phone was ringing. It seemed to have been ringing a long time. I lay in bed listening to it ring, wondering when the hell the machine would pick up. I rolled over, reaching for the phone. It was missing. The ringing was coming from the other room. Shit. I'd forgotten to bring it back in last night.
I crawled out of the warm covers and staggered into the living room. The phone must have rung fifteen times before I got to it. I sank to the floor with the receiver clutched to my ear. "Who is it?"
"Anita?"
"Ronnie?"
"You sound awful."
"I look worse," I said.
"What's up?"
"Later, why are you calling at"--I glanced at my wristwatch--" seven o'clock in the freaking morning. This better be good, Ronnie."
"Oh, it's good, all right. I thought we should catch George Smitz before he goes to work."
"Why?" My face was throbbing. I lay down on the carpet, cradling the phone against my ear. The carpet was very soft.
"Anita, Anita, are you there?"
I blinked and realized I'd fallen asleep. I sat up and leaned against the wall. "I'm here, but I didn't hear a word you said after something about needing to talk to Smitz before work."
"I know you're not a morning person, Anita, but you've never fallen asleep on me before. How much sleep did you get last night?"
"About an hour."
"Oh, God, I am sorry. But I knew you'd want to know. I've found the smoking gun."
"Ronnie, please, what are you talking about?"
"I have pictures of George Smitz with another woman." She let that sink in for a moment or two. "Anita, are you there?"
"I'm here. I'm thinking." The last was harder to do than I wanted it to be. I am never at my best first thing in the morning. After an hour's sleep I wasn't even close to my best. "Why do you say it's a smoking gun?"
"Well, a lot of times a spouse will report the other spouse missing to divert suspicion."
"You think Smitz offed his wife?"
"How poetically you put it, but yes, I do."
"Why? A lot of men cheat on their wives, most of them don't kill them."
"Here's the clincher. After I took the pictures, I talked to a few gun stores in the area. He'd bought some silver bullets at a store near the butcher shop."
"Not very bright," I said.
"Most murderers aren't."
I nodded, realized she couldn't see it, and didn't care. "Fine, looks like Mr. Smitz isn't the grieving widower he pretended to be. What do you want to do about it?"
"Confront him at home."
"Why not go to the cops?"
"The store clerk isn't exactly positive it was George."
I closed my eyes. "Great, just great. You think he'll confess to us?"
"He might. He's shared a bed with her for fifteen years. Mother of his children. There's got to be a lot of guilt there."
I don't think real well on an hour's sleep. "Cops, we should have the cops waiting in the wings, at least."
"Anita, he's a client of mine. I don't turn clients over to the cops unless I have to. If he confesses, I'll bring them in. If he doesn't confess, I'll hand over what I have. But I've got to try it my way first."
"Fine, do you call him and tell him we're coming or do you want me to?"
"I'll do it. I just thought you'd like to be there."
"Yeah, let me know when."
"He hasn't gone to work yet. I'll call him and be over to pick you up."
I wanted to say, "No, I have to go back to sleep," but what if he had killed her? What if he'd taken the others? George hadn't struck me as dangerous enough to take out shapeshifters, but then I'd thought he was genuinely grieving. Genuinely worried about his wife. What the hell did I know?
"I'll be ready," I said. I hung up without saying good-bye. I was getting as bad as Dolph. I'd apologize when Ronnie got here.
The phone rang before I could crawl to my feet. "What is it, Ronnie?"
"Anita, it's Richard."
"Sorry, Richard, what's up?"
"You sound awful."
"You don't. You didn't get much more sleep than I did. How come you sound so much better? Please tell me you aren't a morning person."
He laughed. "Sorry, guilty as charged."
Furry I could forgive; a morning person, I'd have to think about that. "Richard, don't take this wrong, but what do you want?"
"Jason's missing."
"Who's Jason?"
"Young male, blond, crawled all over you at the Lunatic Cafe."
"Ah, I remember him. He's missing."
"Yes. Jason is one of our newest pack members. Tonight is the full moon. He wouldn't risk going out alone today of all days. His sponsor went over to his house, and he was gone."
"Sponsor like in AA?"
"Something like that."
"Any signs of a struggle?"
"No."
I stood up dragging the phone in one hand. I tried to think past the leaden tiredness. How dare Richard sound so cheerful. "Peggy Smitz's husband--Ronnie caught him with another woman. A clerk may have sold him silver bullets."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. I could hear his soft breathing, but that was all. The breathing was a little fast.
"Talk to me, Richard."
"If he killed Peggy, then we'll handle it."
"Has it occurred to you that he could be behind all the disappearances?" I asked.
"I don't see how."
"Why not? A silver bullet will take care of any shapeshifter. No great skill involved. You just need to be someone that the shapeshifter trusts."
More silence finally. "Okay, what do you want to do?"
"Ronnie and I were going to confront him this morning. With Jason missing we don't have time to pu**y-foot around. Can you supply me with a shapeshifter or two to help threaten Smitz? Maybe with a little muscle power we can get to the truth faster."
"I have to teach school today, and I can't afford for him to know what I am."
"I didn't ask for you to come. Just for some of you to come. Make sure they look intimidating, though. Irving may be a werewolf, but he isn't very scary."
"I'll send someone. To your apartment?"
"Yeah."
"When?"
"Soon as you can. And, Richard."
"Yes."
"Don't tell anybody what we suspect about George Smitz. I don't want to find him clawed up when we get there."
"I wouldn't do that."
'You wouldn't, but Marcus might, and I know Raina would."
"I'll tell them you have a suspect and want some backup. I won't tell them who."
"Great, thanks."
"If you find Jason before they kill him, I'll owe you one."
"I'll take the payment in carnal favors," I said. The minute I said it, I wished I hadn't. It was sort of true, but after last night, not down to my toes.
He laughed. "Done. I've got to go to work. I love you."
I hesitated just a second. "I love you, too. Teach the kiddies well today."
He was quiet for a space of heartbeats. He'd heard the hesitation. "I will. Bye."
"Bye." When I'd hung up, I stood there for a minute. If someone was just walking up and shooting shifters, then Jason was dead. The best I'd be able to do would be to locate the body. It was better than nothing, but not much.
