The Finding

  “Before anything else, I need to you to contact Dr. Mason.” Aldrich flipped through a file in front of him, not even looking at her. “The lead on the Greyson girl means we need to be ready to act—”

  “Lead?” Marla snapped her head up from the device on which she’d been making notes.

  “Yes, lead.” Aldrich looked at her, annoyance written on his face. “Weren’t you listening to what I said?”

  “Of course, I was. I just...er...” She stumbled to think of an excuse, but he brushed her words aside.

  “Never mind. Just contact Mason and tell him to be ready with the papers. As soon as Cassandra Greyson is secured, he can sign them and I’ll file them with the courts.”

  “What are you planning on doing?” Her curiosity got the better of her.

  Aldrich stared at her and she was sure he’d tell her it was none of her business, but then he sat back and tapped his finger thoughtfully against his lips. “I’m torn between two options, though I’m strongly leaning towards one in particular. Cassandra has certain ‘qualifications’ that will serve me well.”

  Marla puzzled over his words, but wasn’t sure what he was alluding to. What ‘qualifications’ besides wealth could the girl possibly possess? As she debated asking for further clarification, the phone rang.

  Aldrich picked up the phone and listened with a deepening frown. “I’ll be right there.” He stood up and rounded the desk. “I have a situation to deal with in the back rooms. Tell Sylvia I’ll meet her in an hour for our walk.”

  Marla grimaced as she watched the man leave. Damn. Just when he seemed to be on the verge of confiding in her, there was an interruption. And when he was finished doing whatever he was doing, he’d be off with Sylvia.

  She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair as she thought of the plump little nurse. Well, at least Sylvia was one problem she’d be rid of by the end of the day.

  Standing up, Marla intended to head back to her office and check with Jeffries on his progress when she noted that Aldrich had uncharacteristically left his computer on. She glanced at the security cameras and noted they hadn’t been moved yet. If she did some snooping, no one would be any the wiser.

  Idly she walked to the window as if intent on the checking the view, then once out of camera range, turned so she faced the computer screen. It was the Greene file! Excitement almost had her leaning forward, but she caught herself just in time. Keeping one eye on the security camera, she reached her hand towards the mouse and began to scroll down.

  As she read, she felt the colour begin to drain from her face. The file outlined how Anthony Greyson had put Aldrich in charge of overseeing a search for werewolves. He’d hired a young woman named Melody Greene to contact a photographer named...Ryne Taylor!

  Marla’s throat constricted. Her heart began to pound and her hand trembled as she forced herself to continue reading. Greyson had purchased a wolf picture taken by Taylor and had concluded the wolf was a werewolf. Greene had found Taylor, made contact and then—

  “What do you think you are doing, Miss Matthews?”

  Aldrich’s voice sounded cold as he spoke behind her. She whirled around in surprise, so caught up in what she was reading that she hadn’t heard him approach. “Mr. Aldrich!”

  He strode around the desk and turned the monitor, scanned the information displayed there and then turned to her. His face was a mixture of anger and apprehension. “Miss Matthews—”

  Marla interrupted him. “I quit. I know it’s short notice, but I quit.” She knew her voice was trembling, but at this moment appearances didn’t really matter. If Ryne was in some way connected with Aldrich, she knew she had to leave.

  Her words apparently stunned Aldrich. “You’re what? Quitting? Ridiculous. You can’t quit today of all days! I have too much work for you. All my plans are finally coming together!”

  She shook her head and started to back away, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. She stared at his hand in surprise. His grip was surprisingly strong.

  “It’s because of them, isn’t it?” Aldrich pulled her closer, searching her face. When he spoke again, it was in an insistent whisper. “You’re a believer, aren’t you?” He gave her arm a slight shake.

  “A...a what?” She pulled against his grip, trying to free herself.

  “A believer...in werewolves.” His voice became louder, more assured. “I can see it in your face.”

  “Werewolves?” She licked her lips and stared at him. His eyes seemed overly bright.

  “Yes! I can tell you know they’re real, but you’ve been afraid to mention it, haven’t you? Like me, you know the dangers; that people would scoff and think you crazy. But not anymore. I have proof!”

  “Proof! What proof?” Her voice squeaked in surprise. Surely he didn’t mean her? There was no way he could know, was there? She glanced at the computer screen wondering what else the file contained. Had she slipped up in some manner?

  “Cassandra Greyson! She’s one of them.”

  “Cassandra Greyson? But...” Marla realized she sounded like a parrot, but didn’t really care. What was Aldrich babbling about?

  “Yes! Just before he died, Anthony Greyson revealed the truth. He’d been searching for a pack so the girl would have a home and hired a journalist, Melody Greene, to help. Greene tracked down a photographer who had taken pictures of one of the beasts. Then it turned out that Greene was a werewolf herself. She almost transformed in front of me. I knew then that I could make a fortune if I captured a real live werewolf, but the plan went awry. A male of the species, a big black brute, ended up attacking me.”

  “The wild dog.” Marla stared at his throat and almost laughed as all the pieces finally fell into place. Once she’d speculated that the damage could have been done by a werewolf, but had dismissed the idea as preposterous. And the werewolf had been black. It was Ryne; it had to have been! “Oh God!”

  “Exactly. Since then I’ve lived like a prisoner, knowing they were out there. They know I’m here and they’re just waiting for me to make a mistake. But now I’ll have the Greyson girl. She’s one of them. I can prove werewolves exist and then they will become the hunted instead of me!”

  By now Aldrich’s grip on her arm had become painful. Marla tried once again to pull away, wishing she’d inherited the superior strength werewolves were noted for. She hadn’t though; it was yet another of her failings.

  “Mr. Aldrich, sir, I—”

  Aldrich must have finally noticed he still had a hold of her, for he let go of her abruptly. She stumbled backwards slightly before regaining her balance. “My apologies, Miss Matthews, but as you are well aware, this is an exciting day for those of us who know about werewolves. Please contact Dr. Mason immediately. I expect to have possession of the Greyson girl by the end of the day. We need to immediately sedate her and keep her locked up.”

  Marla nodded while backing towards the door. She didn’t give a damn about Aldrich’s plans. Escape was more important. His revelations explained why she constantly sensed the presence of werewolves. They were watching him not her. But that would soon change. Once Cassandra Greyson arrived, Ryne would; surely he must have the place under surveillance. He’d follow the Finding clause and try to claim the girl. And if Ryne came for Cassandra... Well, it was only a matter of time before he figured out another werewolf was present in the building.

  How her own presence hadn’t been discovered yet was a bit of a mystery, but then again no one was expecting her to be here. Everyone was watching for Cassandra, thank heaven. It was undoubtedly the only thing that had saved her all these years.

  Thankfully Aldrich didn’t seem to notice that his personal assistant was acting strangely. He was staring at the computer screen actually looking gleeful. “Don’t forget to tell Sylvia I’ll be with her shortly.”

  As fast as she could, Marla walked to her office. She couldn’t run down the halls; it would draw unwanted questions from the other staff, but she needed to get away as quickly as p
ossible. If Cassandra Greyson was arriving sometime today, then Ryne wouldn’t be far behind, she was sure of it.

  Just as she reached her office the sound of humming reached her ears. Sylvia. Damn! Marla suddenly remembered that Jeffries was rigging the elevator and it would be out of commission for some time afterwards.

  Realizing she’d be trapped, Marla grabbed the phone and called downstairs, her toe tapping impatiently on the floor as she listened to the unanswered ringing. Finally the chauffeur picked up the phone.

  “Jeffries? Don’t touch the elevator, I’ve changed my mind ... What do you mean it’s too late?” She ran her fingers through her hair agitatedly. This couldn’t be happening. “Reverse it! Fix it! Do whatever you have to do! ... Fine.” She slammed the phone down and began to pace the room. What was she going to do? The stairs? It was possible, though the thought of running down forty storeys was daunting. And then there was the matter of the security alarms set to go off when the stairs were used.

  She pressed the heels of her hands to her temples. Her head was pounding; her wolf was fighting to get out. Its voice was echoing through her head. She couldn’t think clearly, her legs were trembling... Reaching backwards, she felt for a chair and lowered herself down.

  *****

  Kellen blinked and tried to force his eyes to focus, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Hugh had hit him quite hard and then injected him with something. His brain felt sluggish, his whole body heavy. A faint moan escaped his lips. His chest and arm muscles ached from being pulled behind his back for so long. Initially he’d kept tugging and twisting, trying to free himself, but eventually he’d given up. The duct tape that bound him resisted all his attempts.

  The knowledge that he wasn’t going to escape filled him with despair. He had no illusions that he’d be let go. Once they had their hands on Sandy, he’d become superfluous, a loose end to be eliminated. Regret filled him as he realized his life was likely coming to an end. Twenty-five years of life, all wasted. Helping Sandy was about the only decent thing he’d done in his life and now even that was going to be for nothing.

  He’d overheard Hugh and Aldrich talking. They planned on having Sandy declared mentally unfit and were going to lock her up. Once she was out of the way, Aldrich said he’d be in charge of her fortune and then eventually he’d reveal her to the whole world for what she was.

  That part hadn’t made sense to him, but he was drifting in and out, so probably he’d missed something. Poor Sandy. She had been the one who’d been content with their simple life while he’d always wanted more. Now, she was going to end up paying for his greed. If only he hadn’t gambled, none of this would have happened. Kellen sniffed, feeling sorry for her, for himself...

  There was nothing he could do. He’d tried that just a while ago, kicking Hugh when he’d been given one of his twice a day breaks to use the washroom. Hugh hadn’t liked that and had shoved him into the wall. Kellen winced, still recalling the burst of pain when he’d slid down the wall, his skull hitting the edge of the marble bathroom counter. After that, he’d passed out.

  Kellen wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious, but when he came to, he was back in the chair listening to his captors talk about Sandy. Once they realized he was awake, Aldrich had berated his foolish escape attempt, pointing out that he was forty storeys up in a secured building. The news had quashed his few remaining hopes. He was trapped. He was going to die here and Sandy... Well, if Aldrich managed to capture her, her life would be a misery and she’d be as good as dead too.

  With a sigh, he let his head fall forward and his eyes close, the drugs Hugh had given him taking effect.

  *****

  Nate Graham wiped a shaking hand over his upper lip trying to remove the accumulated sweat. It was fear rather than the temperature that was problem. Last night, he’d killed a man and now... He swallowed hard.

  It hadn’t been planned. He’d been at Dollar Niche, trying to find more files that matched the copies of the ones Hugh had given him the night before. Supposedly Eddie Perini was on his way to Chicago with Hugh, so Nate had let his guard down.

  When Eddie walked in, he’d reacted instinctively, pulling his gun. A fight ensued and he’d ended up shooting Perini. That was when he’d panicked. He’d dragged Eddie down the stairs and dropped him in a dumpster before running. It had been a stupid move, but it was too late for regrets.

  Damn! He’d really hoped to impress Aldie with this job. The man was moving steadily upward and he’d thought to secure a place within Aldie’s organization by thoroughly investigating Dollar Niche. Now he didn’t know what to do. Aldie didn’t like messy endings and a dead body was messy.

  Once Nate realized this, he’d gone back thinking to remove Perini from the dumpster and dropping the body in the middle of the desert, but the cops were already there, the alley filled with flashing lights, people swarming all over. How they found the body he didn’t know. Had someone seen him dumping Eddie or heard the fight? The building and alley had appeared deserted but you never knew. All it took was one person peering out between the slats of a blind...

  “Here’s your drink.” The bartender set a shot of whiskey in front of him. “Anything else?”

  “No.” Nate shoved some money at the man, keeping his head ducked down. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks.” The man walked away and Nate hazarded a look around. It was a small bar; not too seedy, but not too fancy either. Just an ordinary bar where people might stop by for a quick drink. No one was paying him any attention and he intended to keep it that way.

  Nate tried to steady his hand as he picked up his whiskey and gulped the drink. It burned as it slid down his throat and settled in his belly. A little alcohol induced courage, that’s what he needed to help him plan his next move.

  When he’d seen all the commotion outside Dollar Niche, he’d driven away, functioning on autopilot; his only thought had been to put as much room as possible between himself and the crime scene. As a matter of fact he’d driven all night and was now found himself in this little town just south of the Mexican border.

  He knew he should call Aldie and tell him what had happened, but he hesitated not wanting to face the man’s wrath. He could almost hear the man’s voice, so cold and raspy, even more chilling since that freak dog attack...

  ‘A dead body is a messy ending, Nate, and you know I don’t like messy endings. Nor do like dead bodies. They tell too many tales and lead straight back to their killers. This is not good Nate. I’m seriously displeased...”

  Oh God, what a mess. Damn Perini for coming back early! One little slip up and ‘Nate Graham, Private Investigator’s’ whole career was down the tubes. He pushed back his hair then held his head up with his hand, the other clenching and unclenching around the shot of whiskey. What was worse? The police discovering he’d committed murder or being on Aldie’s black list? Neither choice was appealing.

  He peered around the room again. Everything was quiet. The bartender was wiping glasses. Several locals sat around a table near the window laughing. Outside, people walked down the sidewalks, their arms laden with purchases. Normal life.

  Perhaps he should just stay in Mexico, get lost in the crowds. There was still some money in his account and more due to him; Aldie was supposed to be forwarding it and he could live on the sum for awhile.

  Nate took another gulp of whiskey and set the glass down carefully. Okay that was his plan. He’d get his money and then disappear in Mexico. When things calmed down, then he’d head back home...

  Chapter 22

  Franklin stared out the window barely noting the scenery that flashed by. He was too busy wondering what might be happening at Aldrich’s penthouse. The thought of Miss Cassie in the hands of that man gave him the chills. He knew all too well what the lawyer was capable of, having done his research on the man over the past three years. Learning everything you could about your enemy had always been rule number one.

  “I can’t believe we missed them.” Mer
edith grumbled from her seat beside him in the back of the taxi, her knuckles white from the tight grip she had on the edge of the seat. The vehicle was weaving back and forth as the driver changed lanes rapidly, having taken the instruction to ‘step on it’ to heart.

  “These things happen,” Franklin soothed, his fingers beating a rapid pattern on the armrest and belying his outward calm. “We just have to change our plans a little. At least we know where Cassie was headed.”

  “It was a stroke of luck to overhear those two women in the lobby talking about a ‘Cassie’ and a “Bryan.’ Odds on it being another couple are pretty slim.” Meredith preened slightly, obviously pleased that she’d been the one to find that clue.

  “And the fact that they mentioned Aldrich’s penthouse was a dead giveaway.” Franklin added in a dry tone, suppressing a chuckle as Meredith shot him a dirty look. Teasing her was second nature. He was the practical one and she leaned towards flighty, always needing to be restrained from rushing into situations. Oh well, that’s probably why they’d been such good partners, playing off each other’s strengths.

  “We’ll reconnoitre the area first and see if we can find any evidence that Cassie is somewhere near the building.” Meredith stated their first move, her whole body appearing tense and ready for action.

  Franklin nodded. “And if not, we’ll go inside and find her.”

  “Will we still use the IRS cover?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Perhaps. Or I could go in as myself. There have been a few occasions when I’ve had cause to visit Aldrich there, though I’ve never just dropped in. The man might be suspicious. We’ll have to play it by ear. Assess the situation and then when we see an opportunity, run with it.”

  Meredith nodded and settled back against the seats. Franklin only half listened as she chatted away, knowing it was her way of relieving stress. The familiar rise and fall of her voice soothed him as well. This was what was missing from retirement; the adrenaline rush of working a case, making split second decisions, living by one’s wits. He smiled at the memories, then sighed. He was too old to go back in the business full time, but life at the Estate was too quiet. Perhaps once Miss Cassie was back— His thoughts were interupted by Meredith’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs.