Redeemed (18 page)

“Okay, boss. Later.” David hung up.

Bless that man and all he did to hold the business together while Evan was away. Hiring him was one of the best decisions Evan had ever made. He knew he could count on David to run the office like a well-tuned engine.

Initially, Evan created his own PI company so he could be home and still have money coming in from the men he employed. Now that Evan was also employed by a much bigger fish with a hefty contract, he had no financial worries at all.

Evan glanced at his watch. It was still early in St. Louis. Hell, it was early in Virginia. Ashley would be sleeping at her parents’ house. When he was out of town, she didn’t stay at his place alone. Now
their
place.

He called her several times a day and he’d been gone six days this time. It wasn’t ideal and she was growing weary. He could hear it in her voice. There was only so much a newly mated shifter could do to assure his woman when he wasn’t in town more than a day at a time.

He couldn’t blame her. He’d spent three glorious days making love to her sexy body and then took off for a job he couldn’t discuss with her. Not a word. She had no idea he was hunting her own ex, nor that he’d been hired by The Head Council to do so. And besides, he wouldn’t dare risk telling her anyway. He knew she’d freak out from fear or anger or both.

Nope. It was best to get this job done and then deal with the fallout. He prayed she would forgive his involvement.

Eyes still plastered to the apartment door, Evan knew his personal time limit was up. He had to move. He climbed out of the rental car and stretched his legs. A window sat to the right of the apartment entrance and he could have sworn he saw the curtain flutter.

That couldn’t be good.

He moved quickly on achy legs. If that bastard saw him, he would flee so fast Evan wouldn’t stand a chance. Damon couldn’t be very smart in general, but he was sure astute when it came to running away from detection.

How the hell did that man always seem to be one step ahead of Evan? It made a chill run down his spine every time he thought about it. He’d never thought of himself as being very obvious in his investigations, but Damon’s ability to detect him was bordering on eerie.

There were fifty yards between Evan and that apartment. The curtain moved again, definitively. Evan picked up his pace, but he had to circumvent several large shrubs and the railing that ran around the front of the building.

He was too late. The front door whipped open and Damon emerged. The man carried only a backpack, but he took off running in the opposite direction so fast Evan couldn’t communicate with his legs to scramble.

Shit
.

Evan ran, but Damon had a direct route around the end of the building. He disappeared from sight long before Evan could reach him.

By the time Evan rounded the corner, Damon was gone. Seconds. That man was fucking fast and always on alert.
Goddamn it
. Evan looked every direction. Nothing. He could have jumped in a car, ducked into another apartment. Hell, the bastard was so skinny he could be hiding behind a tree.

Evan stomped around the area, but he found nothing. Poof. As though the man had never been there. Finally, he gave up and headed for the apartment, furious with the way the man managed to get the upper hand. Evan’s skin crawled. It seemed once again someone had tipped Damon off. There was no way Damon could be as astute as he seemed time and time again.

Evan stopped outside Damon’s apartment and turned around. He held on to the frame of the door Damon had left open and looked around. Was someone watching
him
? It gave him the creeps.

Evan finally stepped inside, fear of what he might find niggling at the back of his neck. There was still no certainty Damon didn’t have another woman by now. “Anyone home?”

No answer. Evan took his time entering anyway. He shut the door behind him, turned the deadbolt, and secured the chain lock. He was taking no chances with Parkfield. The man was so unpredictable there was no guarantee he wouldn’t return and take Evan by surprise from behind.

The place was immaculate. No surprise there. Obviously the guy was type A the way he’d used Ashley as a slave to his house chores.

Evan began the tedious task of going through Damon’s belongings. The man had left with only the sparse number of things he could carry. This was the first time Evan had caught him unaware enough to go through his belongings instead of finding the place wiped clean of all evidence.

He opened cabinets and drawers in the kitchen area first. Nothing. Plates, utensils, nothing out of the ordinary.

The refrigerator held only a few items—some milk, beer, lunch meat, condiments, not much else.

Next he stepped into the bedroom. There was only one. It was a small place. Kitchenette, living room, bedroom, bathroom. It wouldn’t take Evan long to canvas the entire scene.

A small closet held only a few pairs of pants, shoes, shirts…

A dresser was half empty.

Fuck
.

Evan spun around, wanting to throw the bedside lamp across the room. He was that pissed. The man slipped through his fingers again, and he’d left nothing interesting. Angry now, Evan started tossing shit left and right. He flipped the mattress over.

He stomped into the living room and tore the couch cushions off. Even the fabric underneath them was clean. The only other piece of furniture in the room was an older-model TV. Evan couldn’t imagine it worked. It sat on a rickety cheap stand.

Evan plopped down on the edge of the couch, not caring there was no longer a cushion to sit on.
Think
. He had to be missing something.

He pushed his hands into his hair. He needed to get control of his anger. He was a professional and he’d done enough jobs like this to know he wouldn’t find a damn thing in his current state of mind.

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. When he felt sufficiently calm, he let his gaze roam the room again.

End table. Nothing on it. Didn’t the guy at least have a remote? It sure hadn’t been between the couch cushions. He smirked as he lifted his gaze to the television once again. The stand was nothing more than a metal tray of sorts. He followed the electrical cord from where it dangled behind the TV to the wall.

And then he froze. He knew damn good and well no one could watch TV these days without cable or at least some sort of box to give access to channels. He bolted upright and reached the twenty-four inch in two steps.

He intended to pull it out from the wall to investigate behind it, but when he reached from above, hoping the wheeled cart would slide forward, the entire television teetered forward and crashed to the floor.

Evan jumped to avoid the glass. Except nothing broke. This was no ordinary TV. It weighed nothing. And its uselessness as a means of checking the local news was quickly revealed. It had a completely false front that didn’t break when it hit the ground. Plexiglas he presumed.

The back fell off entirely in the fall to divulge not electronic components, but vials of drugs and syringes.
Bingo
.

Evan sprang into action. He ran back to the bedroom, found a duffle, and returned to fill it with the evidence. Thank God. This was headway.

He might not have captured the man himself, but at least he had the drugs. From his viewpoint, he had killed two birds. One, Damon no longer had the means to shoot up another woman. And two, the evidence could go a long way toward finding out who the supplier was and nailing the bigger fish.

In minutes, Evan was done. He shouldered the bag and slipped back out the door.

A half an hour later, he pulled into the airport. He wasn’t stupid enough to cart the unknown drugs across the country by plane. He’d dropped that precious cargo off at FedEx first, overnighting it to The Council headquarters. Evan would beat the package, but at least by this time tomorrow he would have the strange substance safely in the hands of pack leaders.

Sure, he had the authority to carry the package on the plane, but the red tape would have been a huge hassle and he didn’t want to deal with the delay. The quickest, easiest way to get himself and the drugs to Seattle was to separate himself from the duffle bag and get a move on.

A weight lifted from his shoulders, but not completely. He still cussed under his breath at losing Parkfield. That man was a slippery motherfucker. Evan knew neither he nor Ashley could sleep well until Damon was caught.

Evan had to wait forty-five minutes at the gate before boarding. He called Ashley as he slumped into an uncomfortable black chair in the terminal.

“Evan?”

“Hey, baby. How are you?”

“Good. When are you coming home?”

“Soon. I need to make another stop and then I’ll be home for a few days.” He hoped the trip to Seattle would be brief.

“You have to go out again so quickly?” Her voice was high-pitched. Stressed. He knew he was trying her patience with this case. If she only knew…

“Yeah. I’m sorry. As soon as I wrap this up I’ll be able to work from home without nearly as much travel. But like I told you, this was a commitment I made and I have to keep it.”

“I know.” Her voice deflated as she spoke.

“Are you at your parents’?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your schoolwork?”

“Going good. It’s not like I have a lot of distractions.” She giggled and his cock hardened at the sound. He loved the tinkle of her voice. It was unnatural for newly mated couples to separate like this. Fucking impossible. If he weren’t so consumed with tracking this asshole, there was no way he would be able to concentrate on anything. As it was, he had to turn his brain off to the existence of Ashley by day.

By night he lay in random hotel rooms thinking of her sweet body and wishing she was next to him. Her scent lingered on his belongings, but after six days he was relying on memories.

“Have you been painting?”

“Yep.” She sighed. “Come home quick, okay?”

“I’m on it. Promise. So close.”
And yet so far
…

“I don’t sleep as well when you aren’t next to me.” He could practically hear her biting her lip.

“I don’t either, baby. I’m exhausted.” That was the truth. He’d been exhausted for months ever since he’d first spotted her when he’d led her brother to her rescue.

A loud speaker in the terminal announced his flight. “I gotta go. My plane is boarding. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.”

•●•

Damon placed the usual call to the Romulus. He was out of breath and had only snagged a few items when he’d received the call that someone was on to him. Again.

Luckily, he’d grabbed the throw-away cell.

“Yes?” The deep voice that picked up on the first ring always answered this same way.

“I’m on the run.”

“Did anyone see you?”

Damon paused. This was the first time he’d been almost caught. Should he fess up? Would the Romulus be mad?

Oh, what the fuck did he care anymore? Those bastards were making his life a living hell. He’d been perfectly fine, living alone with no other shifters for miles around until these fuckers had shown up promising the moon. In retrospect he should have realized when something sounded too good to be true, he should have listened to his brain. “Yes. Some asshole was already making his way to the front door. Your warning was a bit tardy this time.”

Damon was weary, exhausted from fucking moving all the time and having to remain on alert. The Romulus insisted he had no other choice. It was unfortunate things hadn’t gone as planned with Ashley, but
these things
went south sometimes.

No shit, motherfuckers
.

A long exhale came from the other end of the line.

“Listen. This is not my fault; it’s yours. I’ve about had it with your shit. So don’t fucking sigh your deep breath at me, you asshole. I’m two seconds from turning your asses in and myself too for some peace and quiet. Even prison sounds like a walk in the park about now.” Damon paced the short distance back and forth in the cheap motel room he’d rented for the night. He couldn’t afford more with the cash he’d had on him.