Omega Moon Rising (Toke Lobo & The Pack) (12 page)

Cool. He needed to be cool, not let her see his fury. Not let her spin the table and accuse him of frequenting porn sites. Because what he did wasn’t the issue. The issue was pictures of her on the Internet. Where any pervert could drool—Luke was as dizzy as if he were chasing his tail.

“You ready to talk?” Tokarz asked before they boarded the bus for the last leg of the journey to Loup Garou.

Luke bared his teeth.

“Well, I’m mated to a human, too—”

“Abigail is not my mate.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Luke, except yourself.”

Luke thought about stripping and running the rest of the way home, but Tokarz herded him onto the bus.

“I ran into Delilah Garnier a little while ago,” Granny told Abby. “The band cut its tour short. They’re on their way home. I wonder why Luke didn’t call.”

Abby could have given the old woman an earful about her jerk of a grandson, but her mama had raised her better than to bite the hand that was feeding her, even if the food was vile tasting herbal concoctions.

“I wonder if someone is sick. I know I didn’t tell Luke about what happened to you, and I’m pretty sure Macy and Colette didn’t say anything either.”

As if anything to do with her would bring Luke to her side any sooner.

“All Delilah said is Tokarz would only say they were coming home to deal with an emergency.”

So, she wouldn’t have as much time as she thought before she confronted Luke about his treachery. Those photos of her belly. After she’d specifically told him she hated having her picture taken. Especially of her bare skin. She was trying to escape the life Gary had forced on her. Luke was going to find out she wasn’t as much of a pushover as he thought. “How long until they arrive?”

“Delilah said late tonight or early tomorrow.”

“I miss Luke,” Libby said from
the desk, where she had graduated to one-suit Spider Solitaire. Playing computer games kept her calm. Maybe Gary should have let Libby use his computer. “He’s nice to me.”

Guilt pinged Abby. Luke
had
taken Libby in after their mother’s death. Had made sure she was safe and cared for. From the beginning, he’d been sweet to Libby. He’d been sweet to Abby, too, lying through his pretty white teeth the whole time.

She was going to need to finesse this, curb her rage so he wouldn’t retaliate via Libby. Libby was far more vulnerable than Abby was, even if Abby was pregnant. And that, she realized, was her trump card.

Luke’s family cared about the baby. Were obsessed with the thing. Colette came over every day to check on Abby. Macy took her turn sitting with Abby and Libby. Right now, she was teaching the sisters to play backgammon. She was infinitely patient with Libby, who wasn’t catching on as quickly as Abby did. Libby would rather be on the computer, which Macy also helped her with. Macy made sure Luke’s files were password protected. She also rigged something with her parents’ satellite TV to create an Internet connection. Gee. Now Abby could check her Yippee e-mail account to count how many friends hadn’t reached out to her after her mother’s death.

Luke’s family would be on his side in any argument. But they wouldn’t let him toss her to the curb. Not as long as she was pregnant. Not as long as she was the mother of his baby.

If they ever found out about Gary, they might not believe Luke was her baby’s father. Maybe she should try for a DNA test, to prove Luke’s responsibility. She knew the truth; his family might not be so quick to accept it.

She hadn’t been so good about standing up for herself or Libby in the past, but everything changed the moment her mother died. Mama no longer needed to be protected from knowing exactly what she’d brought into their home when she’d married Gary. No more retreating into the “secret place” she’d created to protect her emotions from Gary. It was time to fight back.

The bus rolled into Loup Garou shortly after three a.m. Luke’s eyes burned. He hadn’t slept since seeing Abigail on the Internet. The others had snored their way through Nevada and Colorado but Luke’s gut was in knots.

He was the first off the bus, not bothering with his luggage or his drum kit. Only his laptop made the trip to his truck. He didn’t care how late it was: he was going to his grandparents’ to talk to his
wife
.

There were plenty of lights on at Gramps and Granny’s. Even in their old age, they tended to keep werewolf hours over human hours. Family lore had it being rough on Granny, but she’d adapted.

Luke didn’t bother to knock. Granny was in the kitchen, stirring some awful-smelling brew on the stove.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said. “Delilah mentioned the band cut the tour short.”

“Where’s Abigail?” Luke had no patience for niceties.

“In bed, but before you see her, you need to know—”

Luke ignored Granny and stormed down the hall to the bedroom that had once belonged to his father.

A sliver of light showed under the door. Luke pushed open the door without knocking.

Abigail, yellow bruises on her face, looked up. Her eyes widened. She slipped a piece of paper between the pages of the book she’d been reading and closed the cover. Set the book on the bedside table.

Luke narrowed his eyes. “Surprise.”

“I heard you were coming back early.”

“Did you, now?” Luke spoke softly. He looked around the room, noting with surprise the computer set up on the desk.

Abigail must have seen where his eyes landed. “Your aunt set it up. Don’t worry. Macy didn’t undo any of your safeguards.”

How could she sound so normal? How could she be such . . .?

“You got anything you want to tell me?” he asked.

“I’ve had some problems.” Her cheeks turned sunrise pink. “Bleeding. But your grandmother is taking care of me.”

A hitch of fear clutched at his heart. He released it. The baby might not even be his. “That’s what she does.”

They stared at each other across the dimly lit room for several moments.

Abigail finally spoke. “Macy found something interesting on your computer.” There was a bite in Abigail’s tone.

How dare she be pissy with him?

“I told you I don’t like having my picture taken, and yet, there was my abdomen, in all its black and blue glory. How do you suppose that happened, Luke?”

“You don’t like your picture taken?” Luke snorted. “That’s rich, Abigail. Real rich. You’re not the only one who found pictures of you on a computer. Would you like to see what I found on the Internet?”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth gaped. As unlikely as it was, her skin outside of the jaundice bruises turned the color of milkweed fluff.

“Gail’s Bedroom? Sound familiar? Want me to tell you what you were doing?”

“Oh, my God.”

“Your God can’t help you now.” Luke thrust his laptop case onto the bed. “Is that baby even mine?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re damned right I don’t understand. Why don’t you explain to me why you would take your clothes off for some scumball photographer so he could take nudie pictures of you to post on porn sites?”

Abigail had trouble breathing. Tears trickled from her eyes, caught the lamplight, and coursed like liquid fire down her cheeks.

“I’m waiting.” Luke snatched up his laptop case and unzipped it. The unit took forever to boot up.

“No.” She shook her head. “No.”

“Yes.” He typed in the URL, and as soon as the picture appeared he shoved it into her face.

“No,” he mimicked. “Yes,
Gail
.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He grabbed her chin and directed her face toward the computer screen. “Tell me I’m wrong,
Gail
.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wringing more tears from them. She tried to squirm away from him, but he held her firm. She’d have bruises from him come morning.

So fucking what.

“Open your eyes and tell me that’s not you.”

She shook her head. “He told me—” She gagged.

“Who. Told. You. What?”

A sob escaped, but he didn’t care.

“Libby.” She sounded as if she were choking. “He said he was only going to take pictures, and if I didn’t cooperate, he would hurt Libby.”

Luke dropped the laptop. Released her chin. “What?”

Abigail’s shoulders hunched. She drew her knees to her chest. Chin, too. Huddled as if making herself as small a target as she could.

“He said if I didn’t let him take pictures of me, he would sell Libby to the highest bidder.” Her voice was little more than a squeal. “To someone who . . . likes little girls.”

Luke’s blood turned to ice, as if he were swimming in the lake on a January morning. “Who?” His gut knew, but he needed to hear her say it.

Her face shattered. Fell apart before his eyes. She needed a tissue.

“Abby. Who?”

“Gary.”

That name coming from her mouth—she might as well have bitten him in the balls. Luke sat on the mattress next to her. Cupped her face far more gently than he’d touched her a moment ago. And his voice was calmer, too. “Look at me.”

Her breath was erratic, hitching and harsh. When she finally met his gaze, tears intensifying the already vivid blue of her eyes, something exploded in his brain. He dropped his hand. Stood. Stalked out of the room.

Gramps waited in the hall. “Your mate is pregnant and needs—”

“Keep an eye on her. Call Dad and have him keep a close eye on Libby.” Luke kept walking.

“What’s going on?” Gramps asked, but Luke didn’t have breath or time to waste on more words.

His truck was right where he’d left it, parked haphazardly across the grass. The keys were still in the ignition.

He didn’t speed down the mountain. He took his time, savoring his plan. He had a change of clothes in the truck. A good werewolf always kept a change of clothes nearby. He was a good werewolf, despite his grandmother’s blood flowing in his veins. He was a good werewolf, and he was going to prove it.

Mostly he needed to prove it to Abigail, and she didn’t even know he was a werewolf. He needed to prove he could admit his mistakes and rectify them. He should have killed Gary the first time the man hit her. He could have saved Abigail—no, Abby—three months of misery. He owed her. He owed her so much. For jumping to conclusions when he should have known better. She’d pretty much told him the truth, but he’d been so intent on his own agenda, her words never clicked into place for him.

I’d rather you didn’t. Gary is on the ‘net all the time.

He’d be kicking himself for that one for the rest of his life.

The work world was starting to waken by the time he reached Oak Moon. Arrived on the street where Gary still lived. Here and there, windows shone blue or yellow in a patchwork quilt of dark and light.

Gary’s house was dark.

He worked the night shift. That’s what Libby had told Luke. He parked in front of the house. Pre-dawn hid the shabbiness. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. He sauntered up the front walk, still in no hurry. He was going to take his time, make sure he did what he had to do right. Over and over, he planned his moves. Gary’s death was going to be slow and as painful as a werewolf could make it.

The front door was open an inch. Luke paused. At least he wouldn’t have to break in. The door was open. No crime there.

He sniffed.
Uh-oh
.

He nudged the crack wider. The hinges creaked in a sorrowful song. Luke thought about humming along with it.

The full force of the stench hit him almost immediately. Urine. Feces. Blood. Death. Luke’s vision adjusted to the gloom. He found a lamp and switched it on.

Gary sat on the ugly plaid sofa. Sprawled, really. Legs splayed. Arms wide and open. Head back. Bullet hole in front, gray matter, blood, and explosive destruction in back.

Frustration replaced the ice water in Luke’s veins. Someone beat him to Gary.

Chapter 12

Gary is on the ‘net all the time.

Luke looked around the front room, but didn’t see any computer components. He stood absolutely still for several moments. Listening. Sniffing past the fragrance of Gary’s death.

Satisfied he was alone, he started hunting for Gary’s work center. The one-story house was tiny and easy to search.

He should have looked in the basement first. The room had been partitioned off from the rest of the open space, away from the washer and dryer, the furnace and hot water heater. The scent of fabric softener and laundry detergent barely masked the dank smell of damp cellar. The padlock and deadbolt might have stopped a human, but Luke claimed his human heritage only when it was convenient. This morning, convenience was the last thing on his mind. The steel door could have been balsa for all the resistance it offered.

Gary had a state-of-the-art setup. There were pieces of equipment Luke didn’t recognize.

He turned on the tower and waited for the system to boot. He typed in variations of Abby’s name, Libby’s name, and Tina’s name. Of course the password wouldn’t be something simple. Gary was an IT professional. And he was probably doing illegal things on the computer.

Illegal things involving Luke’s wife. Things the world didn’t need to see.

Luke picked up the oversized flat screen monitor and brought it down on the edge of the desk. The particleboard crumbled and the glass in the screen shattered.

Luke wasn’t even breathing hard as he dismantled the tower with his bare hands. He didn’t feel the metal housing slice into his fingers or the flesh of his palms. Circuit boards, motherboards, wires—he wadded them as if they were the frailest of tissue paper.

He peeled the hard drive apart like an onion. Crumpled each piece into museum-quality sculpture. When he was finished, he was going to gather the scraps and toss them into the deepest part of the lake.

“Hold it right there. Put your hands on top of your head.”

Luke turned. Two police officers stood at the bottom of the stairs, guns pointed at him. “You’re too late,” Luke said, gesturing toward the ceiling. “Somebody beat all of us to him.”

“Hands on your head!”

Luke blinked. “You don’t think—”

“On your head!” The taller cop screamed the words.

Luke slowly raised his hands. Rested his palms on his head. “I’m cool.”

The shorter cop sidled toward him, handcuffs ready.

Scat
. If he were going to be arrested for Gary’s murder, shouldn't he at least have participated?

“Come on, Tokarz.” Luke glared at his alpha through the glass of the visitor’s room of the county jail. “If I had killed Gary, he wouldn’t be recognizable. I would have torn off his balls, then shredded his hands before ripping out his throat. The crime scene would have been a whole lot messier. And there would be blood on my muzzle. Give me some credit.”

Tokarz nodded, but his arms remained crossed over his chest.

“There’s no gun powder residue on my hands. And the time line is wrong. Porter was dead before we ever hit the Colorado state line. They can’t pin the murder on me. The only thing they got on me is tampering with a crime scene and destroying evidence. The cops walked in on me doing that. I want Mitchell Jasper.”

“You were heard threatening to kill Porter on several occasions,” Restin reminded him.

Luke didn’t need reminding. He also didn’t need Restin. “Yeah? So? Somebody beat me to it. Not my fault. Not my problem.”

“You want to tell us exactly what’s going on?”

Luke glared. If Tokarz had been alone, he might have shared his personal business, but not with Restin there. “Not your problem.”

“Why should I call in our federal contact when this isn’t my problem?” Tokarz asked. “Why should I post additional guards on Abigail and her sister if this isn’t my problem? And why would I call in Mitchell Jasper for a local situation?”

Mitchell Jasper was their contact in the State Department who “handled” the Loup Garou werewolves for other federal agencies when the pack worked for the government as part of their treaty exchanging service for sanctuary. And right then, Luke was more than ready to serve.

“Oh, I don’t know about the local part,” Luke said. “Get Jasper. On the phone or face-to-face, I don’t care. But he’s the only person I’m talking to.”

Abby stared at Macy. “Arrested? Dead?” Her hands trembled. Her whole body shivered. Shook from the inside out. She should have tried to stop Luke from leaving. This was her fault. All her fault.

“I’m sorry about your stepfather. Luke claims he didn’t kill him, but he was arrested at the scene, destroying evidence. He’s not talking, though.”

It was too much to hope that Luke would hide Abby’s shame from his family. From the rest of the world. Her thoughts circled like a stuffed toilet . . . round and round, going nowhere. Had Luke killed Gary on her behalf? Did that mean he believed her?

Would anyone believe such awful things about Gary? He was considered a saint to have married her mother after her father had died, what with Mama so sick and all. No one knew Gary hadn’t married Mama for Mama, but for access to her daughters.

“Will they let him out on bail? I can put the Oak Moon house up for bond money.”

“You’ve been watching too much TV. Tokarz is working something out. Don’t worry. The pack takes care of its own.”

“The pack?”

Macy bit her bottom lip. “When Luke gets back, he’ll explain. You concentrate on growing that baby.”

Didn’t Macy realize things would be worse now? If someone other than Luke had killed Gary, she and Libby could be in greater danger than they’d been when Gary was alive. Except Abby didn’t know anything about Gary’s sideline. But whoever killed him might not believe that.

“Where’s Libby? Have you told her yet?”

“Colette was going to do that. She and Libby have really bonded.”

That was good. Wasn’t it? Libby needed some kind of stability, the kind Abby used to provide when Mama was still alive.

“Thanks for telling me, Macy. Can Luke have visitors?”

Macy eyed her. “Do you think that’s such a great idea? You need to focus on your baby.”

Abby stared at Macy. Tried to think, but that wasn’t working very well yet. “Can you get a message to him somehow?”

“Maybe.”

“I want him to know . . . I want to say . . . thank you.”

Mitchell Jasper arrived in Colorado the next day. Luke was transported to the FBI offices in Denver for their meeting.

“You can take the handcuffs off him,” Jasper told the US Marshall.

Luke rubbed his wrists as he checked the ceiling for cameras. None. This was a meeting room, not an interrogation room. He might still be wearing his orange prison scrubs, but Jasper was smart enough to keep the secrets of the Loup Garou pack. That meant no cameras. No recording devices whatsoever.

Luke could have broken free of the cuffs himself, but he was in a cooperating mood. Because he expected cooperation in return. Tokarz, Restin, Luke, and Jasper were the only individuals in the room. That was two too many.

“What the hell do you people think you’re doing, inserting yourselves into a federal investigation?” were the first words out of Jasper’s mouth.

He smelled bad. His pale yellow hair and even paler blue eyes reminded Luke of nothing so much as a person with all the vitality sucked out of him.

“What are you talking about?” Tokarz crossed his arms over his massive chest.

“So you know about it. Well, I want in on the investigation,” Luke said at the same time.

“You fucking destroyed evidence!” Jasper’s out-of-control emotions could work in Luke’s favor.

“What’s going on here?” Tokarz did not sound happy. Or cooperative. “Somebody want to fill me in?”

“Your boy here killed a key suspect and destroyed evidence in an on-going undercover investigation.”

“I arrived too late to kill Gary Porter. But I want in on the task force,” Luke repeated. “It’s computer based, right? DeepWebs, DeepNet, FreeNets—I’m one of the best computer guys you will ever meet.”

“He didn’t kill Porter,” Restin confirmed. “Those charges have been dropped.”

“He destroyed evidence. I ought to let the locals lock him up and throw away the key.”

“I’m in,” Luke insisted.

“The hell you are.”

Luke leaned forward, getting as close to Jasper’s stinking, pale face as he could. “What part of I’m on your task force do you not understand?”

Jasper backed away. “Forget it. You fucked things up so badly—”

Luke didn’t even think about what happened next. One minute he was in Jasper’s face, the next he was at his throat. Jaws snapped. The burn of fresh urine hung in the air.

“Luke.” Tokarz’s voice was calm.

Restin held Luke by the scruff of his neck.

Jasper’s pale eyes bulged. He swallowed hard several times.

“Jasper, you forgot a couple of things about dealing with us. Based on his behavior, I’m guessing this has something to do with Luke’s wife. You need to remember getting between a werewolf and his mate can get you killed. Now, while Luke is ensuring your cooperation, why don’t you tell me why Luke thinks you’re interfering with his woman? What case are you two talking about?”

Jasper could barely eke out the words. “Internet child pornography.”