Unspoken

  “Because of Della?”

  “Yes. But not just that. I want to work for—”

  “They can train you.” Burnett’s tone was colored with anger.

  “I don’t just want to be an FRU agent.” He met the man’s stern gaze. “I want to be a damn good FRU agent. I want to learn from the best. And you are the best I’ve seen. Della has told me that you take risks and will break rules to do what is right. That’s the kind of agent I want to be. I’m asking you to take me under your wing. Teach me how to do this. To work within a set of guidelines and still be true to yourself.”

  Burnett stood there, his eyes still hot. His daughter looked at Chase with a toothless grin. The contrast between the two looks alone made the moment feel awkward.

  “I’m asking for one more chance,” Chase said. “Let me earn your respect. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Burnett’s expression lost some heat. He looked at his wife. She nodded. Her husband exhaled, looked back at his daughter and frowned, then glanced back at Chase. “Anything?”

  “Anything,” Chase said.

  “Do you know how to change a poopy diaper?”

  The smell hit Chase’s nose and his Adam’s apple trembled. He took a step forward to do his duty. “I can learn.”

  “Not on my baby,” Holiday said. “It’s your turn, Daddy.” She pointed down the hall.

  Burnett glanced back at Chase. “But I need—”

  “To change a diaper. It’s my turn to talk.” Holiday motioned for her husband to leave.

  Burnett walked away with his smiling daughter in his arms. As he left, Chase heard him say, “Hannah, how can you be so sweet and smell so bad?”

  “Thank you,” Chase said, sensing Holiday’s nod earlier meant more than he could guess.

  “Don’t thank me.” Holiday moved closer. “What you said was powerful.”

  “I meant it.”

  “I believe you.” She looked down the hall to where Burnett and Hannah had disappeared. “You know my husband might be hard as nails on the outside, but on the inside he’s the most decent man I know. He’s taken an oath to never cause unnecessary harm. He follows that. Although a few times I’ve had to remind him of it.”

  Chase nodded. “He’s very lucky to have you.”

  “Me, on the other hand,” she continued. “I never took any oaths. And Chase Tallman, if you hurt Della one more time, I’m going to remove your boy parts, grind them up, and feed them to the hungry rats and scorpions. Is that clear?”

  Chase nodded. He would have said, yes, madam, but he’d about swallowed his tongue. It wasn’t just the removal aspect of what she’d said, but the hungry rats and scorpions. Those two words should never be used in the same sentence with boy parts.

  “Now, go. If you need a place to sleep tonight, cabin fourteen is empty.”

  * * *

  “We should probably leave,” Lucas said for the eighth time.

  What if Mrs. Chi came back and could tell Della who’d done this? She needed to know. Needed to find the idiots and make them pay.

  “I saw them,” she muttered, her gaze on the front of the jewelry store as they wheeled a body out on a stretcher. Her chest filled with a knot of hurt.

  “Saw who?” Lucas asked.

  “The weres. There were three of them.”

  Lucas spoke in a whisper. “We don’t know if weres did this.”

  “Their scent is here,” Della said. “I’m sorry if this insults you, but we are both pretty sure what happened.”

  “Just because they were here doesn’t mean they killed anyone,” he said in a low voice.

  “We won’t know that until someone looks at the evidence. And if someone doesn’t inform the FRU, this evidence might not be available to them.”

  Lucas closed his eyes as if trying to digest her words.

  “Let’s contact Burnett.” Della pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed a text.

  * * *

  Chase dropped a hand over his eyes and sighed. The stench of fresh paint filled the space and was giving him a headache.

  A knock at the cabin door echoed through the thick wooden walls. He didn’t have to guess who it was. He’d heard and sensed Burnett land outside the second his head hit the pillow. And he’d been counting his lucky stars that Burnett hadn’t planned on interrogating him tonight. He’d eaten just about all the crow he could stand.

  “Come in,” he said, getting up, knowing Burnett could hear him.

  By the time he got dressed and entered the living room, Burnett was sitting on the sofa—in the dark. His eyes weren’t bright, a good sign. The man nodded to the chair across from him. Chase followed orders and sat.

  “Douglas Stone.” Burnett said the name—nothing else. He didn’t actually say he wanted information, but it was implied. And since Chase had already pissed the man off, he decided not to push it.

  He stood and walked to the table in the adjoining kitchen and pulled out the file from his backpack. Walking over, he handed it to Burnett.

  “It’s everything we have on him.”

  Burnett opened the file and thumbed through it. The only sound in the dark air was of the papers rustling. He finally looked up.

  “Most of this information is fifteen years old.”

  Chase nodded. “I know.”

  Frustration tightened the older vampire’s expression. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone with this outdated information?”

  “Difficult. I know. Not impossible.”

  “But improbable,” Burnett hissed.

  “There is one new report from a council affiliate at the end of the file. A Douglas Stone was questioned in a different murder.”

  Burnett turned a few more pages, read, then looked up. “In France?” He inhaled again. “That’s what you were doing there?”

  Chase nodded, hoping the fact that he’d actually saved Miranda Kane would make Burnett less inclined to be an asshole.

  “Was Della’s uncle with you?”

  “Yes.”

  Burnett continued to stare. “But you don’t know where he is now?”

  “No.”

  “Because you told him not to tell you?” he accused.

  Again, Chase decided to tell the truth. “Right.”

  Burnett looked down at the file. “In France, you came up empty again and couldn’t find him?”

  “We have proof that someone fitting his description, using the name Don Williams, flew back to the U.S. All of our attempts to locate a Don Williams in France and neighboring countries have come up empty. It must have been an alias. Right now they’re searching here in the U.S.”

  “And?” Burnett asked.

  Chase paused. “Nothing has come up. I’ve searched for weeks. But the FRU has tons more resources to find people.”

  Burnett arched an eyebrow. “We do. Unfortunately, when looking for the real scum of the earth, it’s not those resources that usually turn something up. It’s who you know, other scumbags, who are willing to talk.”

  “So I should go through my scumbag list?” Chase asked with a touch of sarcasm, but then he had an idea and immediately adjusted his attitude. “I see your point.”

  Burnett nodded. “Oh, I heard from the FRU again. They are expecting you to work full-time. Have you actually finished your primary education?”

  “A year ago,” Chase said.

  “And college?” Burnett asked.

  “I took one semester and I might go back on my own later, but I’m eager to start my career with the FRU.”

  Burnett closed the file. “Working under me and living here, there will be rules.”

  Chase didn’t care much for rules. “I’m sure we can compromise.”

  Burnett’s eyes grew just a bit brighter. “I don’t compromise. You’ll either follow them, or you’ll find yourself living somewhere else.”

  Chase’s gut tightened. “What are the rules?” If Burnett said he couldn’t be near Della, all bets were off.

  Burn
ett’s phone dinged with an incoming text. He pulled his cell out, read the message, and frowned.

  Not that Chase expected it to be good news at this hour.

  Burnett stood and tucked the file under his arm. Then he pointed to the envelope on the sofa.

  “That’s your contract, and it covers their rules. We’ll go over mine later. I have to go.” He tapped the file he held. “I’ll keep this.”

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asked. “Can I help you with something?”

  “No.” The adamant way the man gave that one-word response worked its way into Chase’s suspicions.

  “Is it about Della?” Chase stood up.

  “I said I didn’t need help.” He started out.

  “Wait, you can’t—”

  Burnett swung around. “Yes, I can! You said you wanted to earn my respect. So start earning it by listening. I’m taking care of this.”

  Chase met Burnett’s stern glare. “Is Della in danger? Tell me she’s not in any danger and I’ll do as you ask.”

  “She’s not in danger.” He left.

  Chase dropped in the chair and ran his hands through his hair. Then he grabbed his phone and sent Della a text.

  Are you okay? What’s up?

  No answer dinged back. Was she still pissed?

  Everything inside him screamed for him to find Della, but damn it, he sensed this was his first test from Burnett. Inhaling, he recalled the honesty in the camp leader’s voice when he assured him she wasn’t in any danger.

  Could he trust him?

  What if he was wrong?

  Chapter Seven

  Coffee. Della didn’t drink the dark bitter brew, but the waitress hadn’t asked. She just dropped two cups on the table as if it were a requirement.

  So Della now held the lukewarm cup and turned it. Lucas sat across from her. He hadn’t touched his coffee, but he’d wolfed down a burger.

  Over the phone, Burnett had insisted that Della and Lucas leave before the media showed up and plastered their faces on the news.

  “What if Mrs. Chi comes back?” Della had insisted.

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about ghosts since I married my wife is that if they want you, they’ll find you. There’s an all-night diner right around the corner. Go there. I’ll see what I can find out and meet you.”

  Della picked up her phone and saw that it was almost two. What was taking Burnett so long? She stared out the window into the dark cold night. Her mind slipped away from the Chis to Chase. Had he come back to her house looking for her? Was she going to tell Burnett about his little bathroom visit?

  Determined footsteps moved down the sidewalk. Della looked to the diner door, waiting for Burnett to appear. Dressed in faded jeans, a black shirt, and black leather jacket, he looked like a force to be reckoned with.

  She worried he’d consider the Chis’ murder more of an inconvenience than an important case. But the moment she saw his gaze on her, she knew differently. For all his gruffness and even his appearance, there was innate goodness in him.

  He dropped into a chair beside her, giving both her and Lucas a nod. The waitress, a thirty-year-old bleached blonde, came swaying over, seductively, with a cup and pot of coffee dangling from one hand.

  “Hey there, sweetie.” She slid the cup to him, leaning over as she filled the cup, as if to make sure he got a good peek at her cleavage.

  Burnett nodded, and much to the woman’s dismay, he didn’t even offer her boobs a glance.

  “You need anything?” she asked. “Anything at all?”

  “No, thank you. That will be it,” Burnett’s tone pretty much dismissed her. He wasn’t so much rude as matter-of-fact.

  The waitress walked off, a lot less seductively. Burnett’s gaze shifted to Della. “Sorry for your loss.”

  Della swallowed a lump in her throat. “She was just a neighbor, but she was … nice. I saw her tonight at Whataburger. She was getting her husband dinner. She told me to be careful.”

  “What time did you see her?” Burnett asked.

  “A few minutes after seven.”

  He picked up his cup. “The food was still in the bags.” He sipped from the rim of coffee where steam swirled up. He made a face and set the coffee down. “Someone could have followed her, pushed their way inside, or they were already in.”

  “So no forced entry?” Lucas asked.

  “No.”

  Della gave her own cup another twist. “If someone knocked, they would have opened the door.”

  “Even to strangers and after hours?” Burnett asked.

  “Yeah.” Della stared into the cold dark brew in her cup for several seconds. “For that matter if someone asked for the money, they’d probably have given it to them too.” She looked up. “Was it weres?”

  “There are mixed signals. It was a bloody crime scene, and I picked up traces of weres, but usually weres like to throw some muscle around this time of the month. Nothing looked overly ransacked.”

  “Maybe they were easy marks and didn’t require any muscle.” Della’s stomach clenched.

  “Could be. I’ve secured the paranormal mortician for the autopsy. We’ll know more when she’s finished. It probably won’t happen for a few days.” His gaze slipped to Lucas. “What do you think?”

  “He’s going to defend his own kind,” Della snapped.

  Burnett frowned. “Let him answer.”

  “But he’s already told me. He doesn’t think they—”

  Burnett cleared his throat. Della realized he was right. It wasn’t Lucas she needed to aim her fury at.

  “Sorry,” she said to the were. “I just…” That damn knot appeared again.

  “It’s okay.” Lucas leaned in. “It hurts … to lose people we care about.”

  Della recalled that Lucas had lost his grandmother not too long ago.

  Burnett settled back in his chair. “So what did you get?” he asked Lucas again.

  “I picked up six different traces. Three were weak, like half-breeds.”

  “Six?” Della asked. She realized what she’d missed. Something important. “The traces I got at the jewelry store, they didn’t … ring familiar. I don’t know if they belonged to the same guys I saw earlier.”

  “You saw them?” Burnett asked.

  “It was around seven-thirty. I went out … for a bit. I picked up their scent and dropped down. They were walking about half a block from the store.”

  “When you got their trace, did it include blood?”

  “No,” Della said. Had she even seen the killers? She needed to quit making assumptions.

  “How good of a look did you get?” Burnett asked.

  “Pretty good. They were around my age, maybe a little older.”

  “Were they in gang attire?”

  “No,” Della said. “They looked like some young weres out on a Saturday night.”

  “That may have been exactly what they were,” Burnett said. “But even if they are innocent, they might have seen something. Do you think you could describe them?”

  “Yeah,” Della said.

  He had her describe their facial features and typed her answers into his phone.

  Pocketing his phone, he turned the cup in his hands as if hesitating to broach another subject. “Did the spirit give you anything?”

  “No. She was confused.” Then Della remembered her cat. “Her cat was with her and then wasn’t. I heard someone say the cat was still alive and for someone to get it to a vet.” Della swallowed another lump. “We know weres and felines don’t mix.”

  “And the fact that it had any life in it at all could mean it wasn’t weres,” Lucas added.

  Della couldn’t argue.

  Burnett sighed. “We’ll know more when the autopsies are in.”

  “Has the family been notified?” Della remembered that their daughter lived in California.

  Burnett looked down at his cup. “The police are taking care of it.”

  Della got a vision of Mrs. Chi ho
lding her red tabby. She’d loved Chester. “Can you find out where they took the cat?”

  Burnett nodded.

  Silence filled the diner. Only a few forks clicked against plates. “I want to work the case,” Della said.

  Burnett raised one eyebrow. “You’re already working one.”

  “You work two or three cases at a time,” Della countered.

  “I’m not seventeen.” He frowned.

  “I’ll be eighteen next month!”

  Burnett glanced at Lucas. “Why don’t you head back? I’ll see Della home.”

  Della rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to be seen home!

  Lucas reached for the bill. “I got it,” Burnett said and moved into Lucas’s chair.

  Della watched Lucas leave, then faced Burnett. “Your male chauvinist pig is showing again. You might want to suck it in a little bit.”

  Burnett’s brows pinched. “What?”

  She shook her head. “Lucas has a longer walk to get back to his car than I do to get back to my house. Why didn’t you see him to his car?”

  Burnett blinked. “I wanted to talk to you … alone.”

  “So that comment about seeing me home was just a ruse? Is that what you’re saying?”

  He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. And she knew why. She heard his accelerated heart rate.

  “I thought so.”

  “Friggin’ hell. Fine! Kick my ass for wanting to make sure you’re safe.”

  “No, kick your ass for thinking I can’t take care of myself. And don’t say it’s because you care. Because you care about him, too. It’s because I’m a girl.”

  He raked a palm over his face. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I might be a little more protective of the girls in my life than the guys. Does that make me a male chauvinist pig? I don’t think so. But I can hear Holiday in my head saying it does.”

  She smiled in victory. “You should listen to your wife more often.”

  His eyes brightened a hue. “I give you permission to call me on it each and every time, but you might as well get used to it. I’m not going to be able to change because I’m not going to stop caring. No more than you or Chase will stop being pains in my ass.”

  Della leaned back, respecting his acceptance that she wouldn’t give in. Because hell, yeah, she’d keep … “You’ve seen Chase?” she asked.