Howling Moon Part 33

Cat pulled her wallet out of her purse, showing her driver's license. He looked from her to the license, checking carefully before handing the wallet back.

"Unit 45." He gave her a look that was heavy with concern. "Are you okay?"

"No." She gave him a weak smile. "I've got the flu," she lied. "I should probably be home in bed, but I really really need my computer equipment from the closet in the Winnebago." need my computer equipment from the closet in the Winnebago."

"b.u.mmer."

"I don't suppose," Cat asked wistfully, "you could go get it forme?"

"I can't go into a unit without the renter," he said with regret that seemed real. "It's against the rules. I'm sorry."

"If I come to the door with you?" She wheedled. She opened the wallet, drawing out a twenty-dollar bill and setting it on the counter.

His eyebrows rose, disappearing under his bangs.

"I really really don't feel good," Cat explained. don't feel good," Cat explained.

He looked from the twenty to her pale face. Whatever he saw there made up his mind. He shoved the twenty back across the counter. "Keep the money," he told her turning to retrieve a set of keys from the desk behind him.

He stepped out from behind the counter, then opened the gla.s.s office door and held it for her. He followed her through, stopping only long enough to lock the door behind them.

That done, he turned to Cat. "Unit 45 is just around the corner." He smiled, and it made him look both younger and more handsome. "By the way, my name is Tom." He extended his hand for her to shake.

"Catherine, but my friends call me Cat."

His smile widened, showing teeth that were white enough and straight enough to be the result of a good orthodontist. Cat forced herself to return the smile, and shook the extended hand before following him around the corner of the building.

Number 45 was the third unit. It was huge, with a rolling garage door with latches on either side. The latches were held shut with a matching pair of padlocks that seemed much too small for their duty. Cat wasn't thrilled with the security, then decided, what the h.e.l.l. Did she really care if someone stole what was behind those doors? In honesty, it might actually be a relief.

Between each of the large rolling doors on this side of the building were regular, human-size doors, each with a light shining directly above it. Tom walked over to the one marked 45/46 in block black numbers, inserting a key and opening it. He held the door open for Cat who, with growing reluctance, followed him into the dim corridor. It was a cramped hallway between unpainted drywalled walls, only just large enough for two people, the water fountain, and a small wastebasket. A locked door graced each side, opening into each of the two units.

Cat's stomach roiled. She felt bile rising in the back of her throat. She sank to her knees on the cold concrete floor, her stomach heaving as she threw up into the wastebasket.

"You really really must need this stuff," Tom observed. must need this stuff," Tom observed.

"You have no idea," Cat gasped, not bothering to look up.

Still shaking his head, he opened the door. He used his foot to flip the doorstop in place, keeping the door propped open. Cat heard the click as he switched the overhead lights on inside the unit.

"Where did you say this stuff was?" Tom called, his voice echoing in the large open s.p.a.ce.

"In the closet of the kitchen," Cat called back. She didn't go to the door of the unit. She couldn't. It was all she could do to kneel here, hugging the waste can, within sight of the doorway. It shamed her, but she couldn't help it.

She heard the sound of his work boots climbing the metal steps of the motor home, heard the creak of the door opening.

Tom's voice was faint, but clear. "There's a ton of stuff in here," he called. "What all do you need?"

"Just grab it all," Cat answered. "I'll sort it later."

"Right."

Tom appeared a few minutes later, carrying a box filled to overflowing with electronic equipment. He set the box on the floor next to Cat, who still hadn't managed to rise.

"There was a half-empty box on the kitchen table," Tom said. "I just grabbed everything electronic from the closet and put it in with the rest of the stuff." He looked doubtful. "Is that all right?"

"Wonderful, thank you. More than you know." Cat took a deep, steadying breath. She accepted the hand he held out to her, let him help her up. She was still very shaky, but she wanted out of here. Now. Now.

Tom used his arm to steady her for a moment. When she could stand on her own, he stepped away, loosening the doorstop, allowing the door to swing closed. He bent down, picking up the box. "I'll carry this to your car for you. You still don't seem too steady."

"Thanks," Cat answered.

"Can you get the door?"

It only took a few minutes to carry the box to the CRX and load it in the hatch. When they were done, he closed the hatch. Cat turned to him and asked, "Are you sure sure you don't want a tip? You've been incredibly nice." you don't want a tip? You've been incredibly nice."

"Nah. Don't worry about it," he a.s.sured her, smiling. "But I gotta get back inside. You go home and get to bed." He ordered, pointing a finger to her chest.

"I'll do that," she agreed.

Cat watched his back as he disappeared into the office. Tomorrow she was going to write a complimentary letter to the manager, praising Tom. She could never have done this without his help. He'd been a real sweetheart.

RAPHAEL GRABBED HIS cell phone and dialed Holly's number. Something was wrong with Cat. He just didn't know cell phone and dialed Holly's number. Something was wrong with Cat. He just didn't know what. what. The lady in question had slammed down her shields so tight he couldn't get so much as a wisp of stray thought. She was alive, and not in any physical danger. He knew that much. Other than mat, trying to read her was like beating his head against a brick wall. The lady in question had slammed down her shields so tight he couldn't get so much as a wisp of stray thought. She was alive, and not in any physical danger. He knew that much. Other than mat, trying to read her was like beating his head against a brick wall.

It had started sometime yesterday afternoon or evening. Raphael wasn't sure exactly when. He'd had his hands full and hadn't noticed at first. When it finally had occurred to him, he hadn't minded. He'd had more than enough on his plate. Half of his pack hadn't bothered to show up for the ceremony or the night of his first hunt. Of the ones who had, three different wolves had to be punished for insubordination. He hadn't wanted her to know, and feel responsible, for the trouble he was going through. She had enough problems of her own without that.

But it was morning, and he was getting seriously worried. He felt like h.e.l.l, his stomach roiling until he was ready to retch. He couldn't reach her mentally and she wouldn't answer her cell.

"h.e.l.lo?" Holly picked up on the first ring, her voice breathless and raw.

"What in the h.e.l.l is going on?" Raphael blurted the words out, not bothering with a greeting.

"Oh, thank G.o.d!" Holly let out her breath in a sob. "It's so awful!"

"What's happened?" Raphael forced himself not to shout. It wasn't easy. "Where's Cat?" Raphael forced himself not to shout. It wasn't easy. "Where's Cat?"

Raphael stood, listening in horror as Holly told him what Jack had done, and how Cat had been forced to witness it. "Where is she?"

"I don't know! I was cleaning up the mess, and I heard the car take off. I've tried calling her, and thinking at her, but she's completely shut down. Raphael, I'm scared!"

So was he. More than he dared say. Because last night had been the full moon, and while the human in her would be repulsed beyond tolerance, if the cat smelled the blood... well, it was the kind of thing that could destroy a person's mind, particularly in light of what Cat had been through with her parents just a few short weeks ago.

Baby, where are you? 1 need to know you're all right. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cold metal roof of his car. He didn't want to force her too hard; after last night she might panic. So instead, he deliberately calmed his mind and searched for the mating link that bound them, sending calm and strength through their bond at the same time that he tried to focus on the connection to see where she was and what she was doing.

He got an image in his mind of a plastic wastebasket, and the feel of cold concrete beneath her. He heard a man's voice call from a distance "Where did you say this stuff was?"

"In the closet of the kitchen," Cat called back.

When she spoke, the connection strengthened, and he knew where she was.

"Raphael? Are you there?" Holly's voice brought him back to himself, standing in a cold parking lot, phone clutched in his hand.

"I'm here. I found her." He started to say, "She's all right," but she wasn't. Not really.

"What should I do?"

"There's nothing you can do, Holly," Raphael said sadly. "You might as well just head back to the apartment. I'm going to talk to her."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She's tougher than she looks." Raphael spoke the words to rea.s.sure himself as much as Holly, but he knew it was true. Cat was tough, otherwise she'd never have made it this far with her mind and body intact. He just hoped she was strong enough. enough.

He hung up without saying good-bye, climbing into the seat of the Mitsubishi.

Weekday morning traffic was ugly. Despite yet another day of clear weather he was stuck in rush hour, his mind divided between the idiot drivers on the road with him and the woman he loved. Even so, he made it to the apartment in Edgewater before she did, parking on the street next to her house and settling in to wait.

It was almost forty-five minutes later when she pulled the CRX into the carport. She met him halfway across the lawn, but she didn't reach out to hug him. Nor did she offer him a kiss. Instead, she stood rigidly still, looking weak, her very scent tainted as she stared at him from haunted eyes.

Raphael stopped short, keeping himself from touching her by sheer force of will. "Talk to me." He knew what had happened from Holly, but he needed to hear it in Cat's own words.

"You know." She accused him, her voice tight with tension. "Holly was bound to talk to you when I left the way I did."

The knot in his stomach tightened. "Cat "

"He said he'd punish me for choosing you, and he did."

Her shields crumbled, and a tidal wave of pain and memory slammed into him. He physically staggered from the mental blow, and had to steady himself by grabbing onto the fence.

"I can't live with this, Raphael," Cat whispered. "We have have to stop him. We to stop him. We have have to! Before he does it again." to! Before he does it again."

She was on the verge of hysteria and he didn't blame her a bit. There were professional law-enforcement agents who had collapsed under less strain than she'd been under. h.e.l.l, cops working serial killer cases were routinely rotated every few months. But this wasn't a case. It was her life, life, and there was no stopping point in sight. and there was no stopping point in sight.

He stepped forward, taking her in his arms. She buried her head against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him in a viselike grip.

"We'll get him." He whispered the words into her hair.

"Will we? Really? Or will he just go on, killing more and more innocent people? Brad didn't do anything... anything... My parents... It's my fault. If it weren't for me... If I hadn't " My parents... It's my fault. If it weren't for me... If I hadn't "

"Stop it!" Raphael grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard. "Stop it now! This is not your fault?" not your fault?" He pulled her close, holding her fiercely, He pulled her close, holding her fiercely, willing willing her to believe him. her to believe him.

She shuddered, her body wracked with the force of her sobs, the moisture from her tears wetting the front of his shirt as he held her close.

Eventually the force of her crying subsided. Raphael reached into his pocket, retrieving a clean cloth handkerchief. He handed it to her, watching as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose noisily. She took a shaky step away from him. "Can you unlock the gate for me? I need to get a box from the car."

"You're the one with the keys. You unlock the gate. I'll get the box."

Raphael strode over to the CRX. He unlatched the hatch, moving aside as it lifted it up. Inside was a white banker's box filled to overflowing with computer equipment. Raphael stopped abruptly, nostrils flaring. The scents rising from the bottom of the box were old, but unmistakable. Jack's scent was there, and the trace of a pair of humans. Over it all, the harsh scent of dried blood.

"Cat, what's in this box?" Raphael tried to keep his voice calm.

She stood on the front porch stoop, her hand on the key she'd slid into the deadbolt. "The computer equipment I needed from the Winnebago, along with some other things. Why?"

"When we get inside, we're going to make some calls."

"Why?"

"Call it a hunch, but I want us to have witnesses here when you unpack this box."

"I DON'T ENVY DON'T ENVY you, Dad. When she wakes up she is going to be seriously p.i.s.sed." you, Dad. When she wakes up she is going to be seriously p.i.s.sed."

"Don't remind me." Raphael stifled a yawn. He carried Cat gently into her bedroom and lay her on top of the bed. He pulled off her shoes, dropping them onto the floor. Unfolding the quilt she kept at the end of the bed, he pulled it over her, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead as he did.

He'd hated using his Second Sight magic to put her out, but he'd done it. She was already distraught from last night's horror. The last thing she needed was to relive her parents' attack. He knew she'd be angry. It didn't matter. This was for her own good. Besides, he firmly believed that this was a Wolven matter, and no matter how intimately it might involve Cat, she was not, nor had she ever been, a cop.

Raphael straightened up. Taking a deep, steadying breath he turned to go back into the living room. He heartily wished that either Lucas or Ivan were here. Neither had been able to make it. Lucas had taken the Wolven jet, headed to Chicago on business. He wasn't answering his phone. Ivan was back with Charles. Like Charles and Councilwoman Angelique Calibria, he'd be watching the events unfold via live video feed.

Raphael walked down the narrow hall to Cat's living room, yawning hugely as he went. The bond he shared with her made it d.a.m.ned difficult for him to stay awake and alert.

"What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee," he muttered.

"Don't even think about it," Charles advised. His voice came through so clearly Raphael would have sworn he was standing in the living room with Raven. "You do not not want her waking up in the middle of this." want her waking up in the middle of this."

Raphael didn't comment. There was no point arguing, particularly when he agreed completely. Instead, he extended his hand, accepting the box of latex gloves Raven handed him. He pulled on a pair, fighting not to sneeze as the powder tickled his nose.

"I'll unpack the box," Raven suggested. "You take the pictures and bag and tag the evidence."

Raphael nodded his agreement and picked up the camera. A part of him was breathlessly eager to do this. His heart was pounding in his ears. So many years had gone by since he first recognized what Jack had become. So many lives lost.

Raphael said a silent prayer that something in that box would give them the last of what they needed. That this this would be the last piece of the puzzle so that he could bring Jack down and see justice done. would be the last piece of the puzzle so that he could bring Jack down and see justice done.

"This is Agent Raven Ramirez," Raven spoke for the benefit of the voice-activated recorder as well as the video camera that had been set up to record their actions for presentation to the council at their next meeting. He gave the date, and announced the ident.i.ties of all of the witnesses present both physically and via remote.

Introduction completed, Raven reached inside the box and began pulling items one by one from the box, giving a running commentary as Raphael snapped photographs then bagged and tagged the evidence.

There was a pair of laptops, various cables, a leather case of repair tools. But it was the next pair of items that made Raphael and the others pause. The first was a cast-iron skillet with a long wooden handle, its bottom marred with deep scratches and stains. It smelled of Jack, and blood, and there were four short hairs from his fur caught in the s.p.a.ce where the wood met the iron. Raven set the skillet facedown across the box. He walked over to the sofa and opened a black leather case that Raphael had been too preoccupied to notice earlier. Reaching inside, he retrieved tweezers, an evidence bag, and a pair of test tubes. With exquisite care he removed the hairs that had been caught, dropping them into the evidence bag and sealing it shut before giving it to Raphael to tag. Next, he sc.r.a.ped small amounts of the dried blood into each test tube before sealing them and pa.s.sing them over. He then went back to the case, retrieving fluorescent fingerprint powder with which to dust the pan's handle.

Slowly, meticulously they handled each bit of evidence as professionally as possible. There would be no room for criticism, no legitimate question of authenticity. Raphael knew there would be no helping the unfounded questions. Everyone was well aware of the situation between him and Jack. If Lucas had been available, Raphael would have stepped away from the picture, to avoid even the hint of impropriety.

It took time, but at last they reached the final item in the box. It was a video camera with a ca.s.sette still inside.

Raphael took a deep sniff. This was what he had scented most strongly. It smelled of a man and a woman, but most of all, it smelled of blood.

"Someone tried to wipe it clean," Raven observed. "They didn't do a very good job, though. The flap is stuck shut." They processed the evidence on the outside of the camera first. When they'd finished, it was Charles who spoke.

"Open it," he ordered. "We need to see what's on that tape."