Page 38 of His to Claim

I was shocked the reporter was convinced he’d talked with several Wolfen during his investigation, wolves who wanted nothing to do with their… pack. The article was thorough, detailed enough that it put the fear of God into me. I grabbed a bottle of water then read through the article again. When I was finished, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Not because of fear.

But because I believed every word the man had written.

As I stared at the screen, I couldn’t help but wonder if the reporter was alive. If so, what were the chances he was still living in Denver? I chewed on my inner cheek. If I could even talk to the man on the phone, maybe I could get the kind of answers I was searching for.

While the newspaper was no longer in print form, the online version listed several names for their reporters and editors. None of which matched the name I was looking for.

A call made to the newspaper only helped somewhat, the receptionist transferring me to an editor’s desk where I had to leave a message. Somehow, I didn’t expect a return call. When I typed in Randy O’Rourke’s name, there were dozens of articles that came up. What I could tell from scanning was that what he’d written over the years was rather disparaging articles about several of the politicians in town, including the then mayor.

There were also two articles written on the Montenegro Corporation. As I read through them, I realized he’d been pointing fingers at their methods of industry long before a single official accusation had been made. Randy O’Rourke had been a true whistleblower.

The article on the Wolfen appeared to have been his last. Another coincidence I certainly didn’t buy. Had he been pushed out of his job and why? Was there a direct link between the Wolfen and Montenegro? I printed out the three interesting articles and proceeded to see if Mr. O’Rourke was even alive.

After forty-five minutes of searching, I narrowed it down to two possibilities. One was living in California and the other just outside of Denver. Another ten minutes and I was forced to realize there was no way I could obtain any additional information easily. Frustrated, I pulled up the article one more time. There had to be a connection.

The knock on the door was one I’d dreaded all morning. Another round with the police. I’d either have to change my story, or find a creative way to back off on the wolves. I moved closer, hissing under my breath.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Bridges? I’m Detective Kathleen Kelly of the Denver Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions about an incident that occurred last night.”

After peering through the peephole, I unlocked the door, taking a step back and scrutinizing the woman’s credentials. I certainly knew how to spot a fake. She was the real thing, although I had an odd sixth sense about her, as if she had more skin in the game than a normal officer of the law. “Detective. I’m not certain I can tell you much more than what I told the officers a few hours ago.”

She scanned the perimeter of the living room as I closed the door. “You’d be surprised how much you can remember after just a few hours of being in your own space.”

I nodded, folding my arms as I stood in front of her. “Would you like to sit down?”

“This won’t take very long. Can you run through the details of what occurred last night?”

I took a deep breath before answering. “I went to Rusty’s Bar on the corner of Second and Main to meet a friend for a couple of drinks. I arrived at nine-forty-five. At approximately ten-ten, we were approached by three men after they’d purchased us drinks. After thanking them for their gesture, I went to the bathroom to freshen up where one of the men accosted me in the hallway. After returning to my seat, I decided I was uncomfortable remaining with them still inside the bar, so I left. I arrived at my underground garage at ten-fifty, where I parked my car, proceeding to the secured elevator. Within three feet of my destination, I was attacked by an armed man, although I was able to see two others. I recognized them from the bar. After I was hit against my right temple, I blacked out. When I came to, the police had already arrived.”

I noticed immediately that the detective hadn’t taken any notes. I also realized her gaze held a look of surprise. “That is very comprehensive for a woman who wasn’t able to remember almost any details last night.”

“Perhaps you’re right in that being home jogged my memory.”

“Hmmm…” She surveyed the room again. There was no doubt she believed I was hiding something. “I’m curious about two things. How did you get away from the man you said accosted you in the hallway?”

I faltered only slightly, giving her a slight smile. “It’s amazing what a little knee action will do.”

“Ah,” she said as she walked further into the room. “Why do you think the men attacked you, out of spite?”

“That I don’t know. You’ll have to ask them.” I watched as she walked toward the kitchen, merely peering in.

“Yes, I believe two of the men are being questioned now.” As she took a step inside the kitchen, I bristled. I’d left the damn article regarding the Wolfen on the computer. Had there been there enough time for my screensaver to engage?

“That’s good to hear. And the third?”

“There’s an APB out for his arrest. I’m confident he will be caught.”

No, she wasn’t. I folded my arms, unable to keep my glare from being full of disdain.

“And I’m certain you would like to press charges.” Kathleen walked all the way into the kitchen, shifting her gaze from right to left. Although she stopped in front of my computer, she didn’t seem to react, turning almost immediately.

“Absolutely.”

“Tell me, where do you work, Ms. Bridges?”

“Where do I work?” I repeated. “I’m not certain that actually matters at this point but I’m with the Montenegro Corporation.”

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