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“No.”
Even though the women of werewolf descendants couldn’t shift or use telepathy, they had speed, good eyesight, and a good sense of smell. “What else can you tell me about her?”
“She dated a guy who I think abused her.”
That seemed more consistent. “We saw her with Hammer Schmidt a short while ago.”
“I don’t think he’d harm her.”
“Why?”
Someone came up to his sister. “Benson, I have to go. Can I stop over at your place when I finish work? I get off at six.”
“Of course. I made spaghetti and meatballs if you want to join us.”
“You know how to reel me in,” she said. “See you then.”
Benson wrote down what his sister had told him. For starters, he needed more information on Camille Hartwick. She might have nothing to do with any kidnapping or murder, or she could be working with Hammer. Since she wasn’t a werewolf, he bet she was innocent. He’d ask for Mason’s help again, but his cousin was busy tailing Hammer.
Since he wanted Preston’s input, Benson called him and asked if he could be home by six.
“Sure, did you learn anything today?”
“A lot. I’ll go over everything when Ariel gets here.”
“I’ll be there.”
Before Benson knew it, time had gotten away from him. Ariel, Liam, and Alex had arrived. “Come in. I hope you two can stay for dinner. We have a lot to discuss.”
Both men smiled. “We never turn down a meal.”
By the time Benson finished cooking and draining the spaghetti, both Preston and Malia had arrived. As soon as she spotted the two trainers, she stopped. “I didn’t know this was going to be a party. I would have changed. You said you just wanted to discuss Camille.”
“We do.” Benson quickly introduced everyone and why they were there.
He’d already set the table, so now all he needed to do was heat the garlic bread and meatballs. “Preston, can you pour the wine?”
“Sure thing.”
When everyone was seated, Benson told them about Dave Franklin’s death. Of course, he had to leave out a lot. Most specifically was the fact that Dave was a werewolf. The most difficult part was explaining why the sheriff probably wasn’t aware the man had died. “Mason followed Hammer Schmidt to the hospital where Malia works and spotted him kissing Camille Hartwick.”
Ariel shook her head. “I feel as if I need a pad of paper to keep track of everything. This is getting rather complicated.”
“I know. Sadly, many of these people might have nothing to do with Anna’s capture or Sam’s murder, but we won’t know until we investigate every lead.” He turned to Malia. “We need to know more about who the woman with Hammer.”
“I’ll tell you what I know.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
“After you asked about Camille,I had to think back to when the abuse started,” Malia said. “I checked her chart and found she came in with a broken arm fifteen months ago. Then there was the black eye, which she said was from a fall. The split lip was from a small car accident, or so she claimed.”
“Did you believe her?” Ariel asked.
“I had no reason at first to doubt her—at first.”
“At first?” Preston asked.
“Camille was one of my nurses. As such, it’s my responsibility to make sure that the nurses are not under too much stress. I started to notice Camille was becoming more and more tired and a bit short-tempered.”
