Eternal Hunter (19 page)

“Careful, people!” Ben yelled. “I want every piece of evidence here! Tag it, bag it, and don’t miss anything!” This case was going to have a shitload of media scrutiny. There would be no room for mistakes on this one.

Buried behind his kids’ house. How freaking twisted.

And who’d done the bastard? Who’d finally managed to kill Trent?

Even he’d been tempted. Especially after he’d seen Sylvia’s broken body.

Ben rubbed his hand over his face. His eyes were gritty. “I want to talk to the family.” Had to be done. Better to just get it over with now.

Kristen nodded, her short red hair bobbing around her face. She looked barely eighteen, but Ben knew that image was deceptive—and one that Kristen used to her advantage on the streets. When you were expecting fluff, it was easy to get taken down by a bulldog.

Crickets chirped around them. The cadaver dogs barked as their handlers held them back.

When they approached the house, he saw Katherine walk onto her back porch. A worn robe covered her thin shoulders and she hugged herself. “You found him, didn’t you?”

He didn’t want to suspect her, but the questions in his mind wouldn’t stop.
Had she known about the kill? Been in on it?

Katherine LaShaun. A strong woman. One who would do anything for her family.

Buried behind the house. In the woods that the boys probably played in every day.

Sick.

He walked onto the porch. He hesitated under the bright light. “We’ve found a body. Too early for identification yet.”

Kristen crept to his side, almost soundlessly. The lady knew how to move and she knew how to track killers. One day soon, she’d make a good detective.

Katherine nodded. “It’s him, then.” Certainty. A jagged breath. “My boys won’t have to worry anymore.”

Ben glanced around. The house seemed too quiet. Sure, the boys should have been sleeping—but no, they would have woken up with all the cops and dogs there. It was too loud for the kids to still be sleeping. “Katherine, where are the boys?”

Her gaze left the woods and came to rest on him. “At a friend’s house. They’re safe. They don’t know…won’t know…about this.” Her lips shook. “They play there—
they won’t know.
”

She’d moved the boys before the cops arrived. How the hell had she known to do that?

“You knew we were coming, didn’t you, Mrs. LaShaun?” Kristen asked.

Katherine glanced her way. Slowly. “Don’t believe I know you, honey.”

Kristen slapped a smile on her face. The non-threatening one she wore so well. “Kristen Langley.” She offered a hand. One that wasn’t taken.

Katherine rocked back on her heels. “All this time, I was afraid, and he was right here.” Her gaze skittered back to Ben’s. “Do you know who killed him?”

Not yet. But, God willing, he would soon. “Who told you we were coming, Katherine?” The person who’d given her the tip could well be the killer.

Only the officers on his team knew about this body. The cops—and the killer.

Her lips, already thin, flattened even more. “I need you cops to be done by tomorrow afternoon. My boys will be comin’ back then.”

Kristen opened her mouth—

“You got a phone call, didn’t you?” he pressed, not about to be led off track. He wasn’t new to this game.

Kristen’s mouth snapped closed.

“We can subpoena phone records, you know. We’re going to find out, one way or another.”

She stumbled back. “You didn’t do a damn thing to help my girl! Not one damn thing! You let that bastard out and he killed her—he
killed
her!”

“We don’t know that, Mrs. LaShaun.”
Yeah, right
.

“Bullshit!”

Katherine had never been one to mince words. One of the things he liked about the woman. “I’m sorry about your daughter, Katherine. I
did
try to help her. Erin—”
Don’t think about her now
“and I did everything we could.” It just hadn’t been enough.

Her gaze fell. “Erin Jerome fought for my daughter even when Sylvia wouldn’t fight for herself.” Soft. Sadness passed over her face. She sucked in a sharp breath and her shoulders shoved back even as her chin came up with new determination. “Get your subpoena if you have to! Do it! But I’m not tellin’ you another thing!” Then she turned and stormed into the house, slamming the back door behind her.

Well, well. Katherine was hell-bent on protecting someone. From the look on her face, she thought that
someone
might have been involved in the killing.

Who?
Who would Katherine protect? Only her boys. Just the boys.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the back door. “Kristen, get the DA. Let him know we need that subpoena yesterday.”

Ben kissed the rest of his vacation good-bye and got ready for his business of murder. Murder—just what he did best and—

Voices. Shouting, the snarls of fury drifting on the wind.

His stare snapped to Kristen’s.
What the fuck?

He vaulted off the back porch. She was with him, her smaller body hurtling behind his.

They rounded the house. Good, more police tape was up. That should keep the gawkers back, for a while anyway.

“Get out of my way! Don’t you know who I am?”
An asshole was all but screaming at one of the uniforms, shoving a long, thick finger at the young guy’s chest. “I’m—”

“Judge Lance Harper.” Bastard extraordinaire. Ben braked to a halt and glared at the idiot who would no doubt be headlining the local news for the next three days.

The judge’s head jerked toward him and his muddy brown eyes slit.
“Greer.”
Sounded more like a curse than a name because, yeah, there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of love lost between him and the judge, arrogant SOB that the guy was.

Ben braced his hands on his waist, knowing the move would show his holster. Shooting the judge probably wasn’t an option, but a man could dream.

Oh, yes, he could dream.

“I’ve got this one,” Ben said to the uniform. “Langley”—Kristen’s gaze was on the judge—“go make that phone call.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her head bob and then she backed away.

The judge’s hands fisted. “I demand that you tell me what is going on here.”

“Ah, you demand, huh? Since when do you have the right to demand
anything
at my crime scene?” What was the guy even doing there? No way was this the man’s business anymore.

A muscle flexed along Harper’s jaw. “Cartwright told me about the body on the property.”

Did no one in this city believe in keeping things under wraps? This was a murder for shit’s sake! “His mistake,” Ben managed, the words grating in his throat.

“It was
my
case, detective. The man was in my courtroom, he was—”

“You let him walk.” A mistake. Not Harper’s first, not his last, and the judge’s insanity on the bench was only part of the reason why Ben couldn’t stand the guy.

The other reason? Ben had once had a lover leave him…for the judge. The guy might be old, but the bastard was hell with the ladies.

Very slowly, Harper’s fists unknotted. “You think you know me, don’t you, detective?”

No, he didn’t know him particularly well. Didn’t want to, either. “I’m working a murder, Harper. I don’t have time for your games.”

Harper’s chin rose. “I didn’t want to let that bastard walk, but I had no choice.” He shook his head. “When the wife changed her story, what was I supposed to do? There wasn’t enough evidence to hold him.”

“You know he probably killed Sylvia, don’t you?” Ben fired right across his words. “He walked and he killed her.” That knowledge had burned in Ben’s gut more nights than he could count.

Harper’s Adam’s Apple bobbed. “I-I know.” A rasp. Remorse?
What?
From Harper? Their eyes locked. “What I do in this world isn’t easy,” Harper said. “Justice never is.”

Ben thought of those dirty bones. Of the boys who’d grow up without their mother or their worthless excuse for a father. “Go home. There’s nothing left for you here. This isn’t your case anymore.”

Harper’s gaze drifted to the house. “No—no, I don’t guess it is.” His shoulders slumped and he turned away.

For an instant, Ben could almost feel a stir of sympathy for the fellow. Almost.

Then the instant passed. He wheeled around. Back to business. “All right, people, I want this scene combed for every bit of evidence you can find. We’ve got a body, and we’re damn well gonna find his killer.” Because Ben didn’t believe in letting monsters walk. Not in his town.

Even if the vic had been a cold-blooded asshole, he’d find Trent’s killer. That was his job.

He was good at his job.

“What are you doing here?” Erin stared at her mother—oh, damn,
her mother
—and kept every muscle in her body locked tight.

Not going to her.

Not going to hold her.

Not going to hit her. Not!

“I came to see you.” Flat. No emotion there. Never had been. That one eyebrow rose again. “Can I come in or do I have to stand out here all night?”

Leave.

“Come in,” Jude growled. “But at the first sign of a shift, your ass is gone.”

She sniffed and crossed the threshold. “I can’t talk to my daughter in wolf form. She doesn’t change—”

“Yeah, I fucking know. Big damn deal.” Jude shut the door behind her. Too quietly. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

Her mother—Theresa—blinked and glanced over at Erin. “You told him? And he’s still with you?”

Oh, yes, her mother was full of love and maternal instincts.

Erin felt her blood heat. “He’s still here.”

“Standing here, big as day,” Jude murmured. “Not planning to go anyplace.”

In a flash, her mother attacked, jumping back, and thrusting her claws right up to Jude’s throat. “Don’t even
think
about hurting her. Just ’cause she’s weak, you can’t—”

“Get away from him.” Not screamed. Not shouted. Erin gave the demand coldly, despite the fire in her gut, and she felt the rip of her claws tearing through her flesh.

Her mother’s head swung toward her. “Erin? What are you—”

Jude threw her back. A hard toss with his hand that had Theresa flying through the air and slamming into the floor. She scrambled up, fast, crouching, snarling and spitting.

Erin hurriedly stepped in front of Jude. “Don’t come at him again.”

Her mother’s face went slack with surprise.

Looking at her
hurt
. Erin sucked in a breath. “I don’t know why you’re here, and I really don’t care.” Lie, lie. “But you are
not
going to attack Jude. He’s done nothing but help me, and he doesn’t deserve that shit.”

Yellow eyes slit. “You care for him?”

The silence behind her was thick. Good thing Jude couldn’t see her face right them. “What I feel for him is
not
your business.”

But her mother saw too much. Always had.

After a moment, Theresa rose to her feet. Tossing back her hair, she said, “You’ve grown up hard.”

Yeah, because being abandoned by her mother should have made her grow up
easy.
A growl built in Erin’s throat.

Jude’s hands came down on her shoulders. Squeezed.

She stiffened. He shouldn’t touch her.
No. Don’t do that. Don’t show her any weakness
.

Too late. Her mother’s gaze had already noted the telling move.

“Attached to her, are you, tiger?” She smiled and seemed satisfied. “I hope you’re a fighter.”

“I am.” Close to a snarl.

“Good.”

Her eyes raked Erin. “Long time, baby girl.”

Baby girl, her ass. This wasn’t some movie-of-the week reunion. “What do you want?”

A shrug.

Red lights danced before Erin’s eyes. “Then
get out
.”

Jude pulled her back against his chest. “Easy.” Breathed in her ear.

But she didn’t want to be easy. She wanted to scream. To rage. Like she’d done years ago.

The yellow eyes dropped. “Been looking for you,” Theresa said, lifting her hand to rub the back of her neck. “You disappeared on me. I got…worried.”

What?
“You left me years ago. You knew where I was.” She hadn’t moved until her dad died. “Not like I was real hard to find.” Theresa had never come looking for her. Not once.

Still gazing at the floor, her mother said, “Not then. I…watched you then. Had to stay far back. You would have caught my scent.”

It wouldn’t have hurt more if someone had carved her heart out with claws right then.

“Lost you…a few months back.”

What? All that time? All that damn time, her mother had been close by—and she’d never contacted her.
Why?

Theresa glanced up. Her mother had to see the question burning Erin alive because she said, “You didn’t fit in my world.”

Like Erin didn’t know that.

“I didn’t fit in yours.” Another shrug of Theresa’s shoulders. But this time, the move seemed…tired. Sad. “But I still…wanted to make sure you were okay. I-I needed to see you.”

Erin shook her head. Jude felt solid behind her. Strong and steady—just what she needed then. “You threw me away.” A whisper, one she hadn’t meant to voice.

That stare bored into her. “Had to. You couldn’t shift—”

She flinched.

“—and the pack would have torn you apart. No way were you strong enough to handle what they would have thrown at you.” Theresa’s shoulders set. “I did what I had to do in order to protect you.”

Erin stared at her mother. At the tense expression on her face. The steady hands. And she said, simply, “Bullshit.”

Theresa’s jaw dropped.

“You didn’t leave me on that doorstep because you wanted to
protect
me.” Not buying that. Not for a minute. Jude’s hold on her tightened. “You did it because you were ashamed of me.”

She saw the hit in the slight widening of her mother’s eyes.

“You think I didn’t know?” Erin asked, stomach knotted. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me?” Not a proud mama. Never that. Always pushing her into the shadows. Away from the others who might see her.