Burnett spoke up again. “For the Chi case, we got prints. Unfortunately, there were a lot of prints in their shop. So far, there’s no match to anyone in the FRU fingerprint database. And we got a shoe print. They’re trying to identify it.”
“The autopsies haven’t been done yet?” Della asked.
“No. But I’m hoping we’ll have results tomorrow.”
“What about the weres that were arrested?”
“None of their prints matched either. Chase says they aren’t the ones he’d traced earlier with the animal blood. It could still be the same group, and the ones guilty of murder got away.”
“So make them tell us who they were with!” Della snapped.
Burnett sighed. “We tried. None of them would give us anything.”
“Let me talk to them,” Della insisted.
Burnett laced his fingers. “Chase interviewed them. Did a great job, I might add. They’re either that loyal or that scared. And I would bet they’re scared.”
Della shook her head. “So we don’t have anything?”
“Yet,” Burnett said. “It’s early.”
Holiday readjusted Hannah on her hip. “Burnett said you saw Mrs. Chi’s spirit? Did she give you any clues?”
A bloody image of the woman sitting at her mom’s kitchen table flashed in Della’s mind. “No, she doesn’t even know what happened to her. But…” Della reached up and touched her neck. “I think her neck was cut.”
“That would be right,” Burnett said. “It was stated in the report.”
Della inhaled, trying to deal with the ugly truth.
“I know this is hard to talk about,” Holiday said. “But sometimes they try to tell us something in odd ways. They say something strange, or might be wearing something that doesn’t fit their character. Can you remember anything odd about her visit?”
“No,” Della said, wanting the image of her out of her head. Then she remembered. “Wait. That’s not true. She had a basketball. It was bloody.”
“A basketball?” Burnett asked.
“Yeah,” Della said.
Holiday shifted Hannah to the other side of her lap. “And I’m assuming Mrs. Chi didn’t play ball.”
“No.”
Holiday raised a brow. “Then this is a sign. Either the killer had a ball with him, or she’s seen the killer play ball. Or maybe both.”
“Is there a park with a basketball court near your house?” Burnett asked.
“Yeah,” Della grasped on her first ray of hope at finding the killers. “At the front of the park where we caught the other weres.” She stood up. “Should we go there now?”
“No, I’ll send Lucas.” Burnett pulled out his phone. “If he runs into any weres they might be more forthcoming with him.”
“But—”
“Don’t even start.” Burnett looked up from his cell. “First, I already told you that you weren’t working this case. And second, if you go there, they’ll recognize you or your scent from last night.”
“And I’ll recognize them,” she said. Right then the lights in the room flickered and went off. The dead silence of a power outage filled the room.
Burnett moved to the wall where the controls were for the alarm system. While he hit a few buttons, he continued speaking. “Being this close to a full moon, it’s best to let another were handle this.” A light beep came from the controls.
“Problems?” Holiday asked, looking at the alarm.
“Probably not.”
The lights flickered on again. He looked back at Della. “Now go catch up on some rest. You look like shit.”
Holiday pulled her daughter closer, pressed a hand over her ear, and shot her husband a frown.
Burnett made an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. I mean, you look … awful.”
Della glanced at Holiday. “He’s such a sweet talker. How did you get so lucky?”
Holiday chuckled, then stood and touched Della’s shoulder. A warmth traveled into Della’s chest and for one second Della wished she could just give in to it and forget about all her other problems.
“He occasionally says the right thing. And as poorly as my husband put it, you do look tired. Go get some rest. Miranda and Kylie should be here in a couple of hours. And I know they are going to be over the moon that you’re back. And there’ll be no resting then.”
Della heard Burnett telling Lucas about the basketball court. She looked back at the stubborn vamp, then frowned again at Holiday. “It’s not fair. I need to work this case. I knew them. I care, damn it!” Her voice shook, escaping around the knot forming in her throat. “Why can’t he see that?”
Holiday sighed. “You are working this case. Mrs. Chi is coming to you with clues. And when you’re exhausted your chances of channeling a ghost are less likely. Plus, I’m sure Burnett will fill you in as soon as he hears from Lucas.”
Della, certain she couldn’t change Burnett’s mind, and doubtful Holiday was going to help her out this time, shot out of the office.
She exited the cabin door, and had one foot on the porch when Holiday called out from the doorway.
“Yeah?” Della asked. Her gaze fell on Hannah as the baby gave her a big smile. Della felt almost guilty being in such a bad mood.
“If Chase gives you any problems, I want you to come to me. You got that?”
“I think I can take care of him.” Della frowned, not liking the fact that everyone seemed to think that she couldn’t handle Chase.
“Yeah, but why should you have all the fun?” Holiday smiled with empathy.
Della recalled Chase saying almost the same thing. “What cabin is he staying in?”
The camp leader hesitated.
“I need to talk to him. I’ll find him either way,” Della said. “It’ll just take me a little longer and I won’t have as much time to rest.”
Holiday frowned. “Fourteen. But remember … no bloodshed. Only I get to do that!”
“Fourteen,” Della repeated and watched Holiday close the door. Turning to leave, she noticed the bird that stood perched on the porch rail. But with only one thing on her mind, she kept going. She’d gotten down the first step when she felt that odd kind of tingle down her spine. The someone’s-staring-at-you kind of tingle.
She looked left. No one.
She glanced right. Nothing.
Then she remembered the damn bird. She swung around.
The black grackle—so black that it looked almost blue—cocked its head and stared right at her. She recalled crossing paths with the shape-shifter, John, when she’d first arrived.
“John?” she asked, waiting for the bird to speak. The feathered creature just stared. “What?” she asked. “What do you want?” It remained silent.
She waved her hand out to see if it would fly away.
It didn’t.
A normal bird would have scurried away.
Convinced it was John, she took a step closer. “Fly away or I’ll pluck a feather,” she warned.
The bird flapped its wings, but didn’t leave its perch. Not very John-like. The teen, only half shape-shifter with limited shifting abilities, was as skittish as a mouse with an inferiority complex. Nor could the teen completely disguise his scent. She took a deep breath. Nothing. Nothing but bird.
“Okay, if you’re not John, who are you?” Then just like that, the possibility of the bird being a different shape-shifter, one with disguising abilities, filled her mind. But Steve wasn’t due back here for another week.
“Steve?” she whispered his name, even though this bird was a common grackle and Steve had a fascination with falcons.
Footsteps suddenly echoed from the path that led to and from the cabins. Thinking it might be Chase, Della pulled in a noseful of air and turned to see who it was. Her breath caught when the figure, walking slow and easy, made the corner.
Her mind started noting details.
Tall.
Wide shoulders.
Dark hair, slightly curly.
Eyes b
rown.
A soulful gaze. A soulful gaze focused on her. Directly on her.
Steve.
Her heart did a leap. And so did the bird behind her. She heard its wings pushing against the wind to flee. Part of her wanted to join the creature in flight. Seeing Steve made her feel emotions that she wanted to run from. Emotions that weren’t even clearly defined.
Ahh, but Steve’s scent stirred up memories. Memories of them together. Laughing.
Kissing.
Sharing.
Then came the memory of him saying goodbye.
As he continued walking forward, she realized that if they spoke here, their conversation would be privy to any vampire ears nearby. And since one particular pair of male ears was in Holiday’s office, she leapt off the porch and met the shape-shifter at the exit of the trail.
He stopped and smiled.
He made her world feel a little crazy.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” She fought the awkwardness stirring in her chest. She’d seen him briefly in Paris when she’d gone with Miranda and tried to find her uncle. It had felt just as awkward then. When she left he hugged her and said they’d talk when he got back. It was talking time, but for the life of her she didn’t know what to say. They stood there. The silence, louder than nature, echoed around them.
Finally a subject landed on her tongue. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next week.”
“Yeah, they let us go early.” He slipped a hand into his jeans pocket.
“So Perry is here, too?” Della’s mind went to Miranda.
“Yeah.”
For one second, she wondered if the bird had been Perry. If so, why hadn’t he said anything?
She felt Steve’s gaze shift over her and recalled Burnett telling her she looked like shit. Just how a girl wanted to look when she ran into an ex—or almost ex. Not.
“You’re back here early too,” he said. “Everything okay … at home?”
The awkwardness level increased tenfold with his question. The old Della would have told him. Opened her heart and let all the pain and anguish pour out. He would have wrapped his arms around her—brought her head to that soft spot between his shoulder and chest. His caring embrace would have felt good. It would have eased some of her pain.
But that was the old Della.
The new Della didn’t know what to do. The realization scared her. She liked feeling in control, a step ahead. She could never be on top of her game if she didn’t have a game plan. Or at least know the rules.
And where Steve was concerned she hadn’t considered a strategy and didn’t own that rule book. If she did, she sure as hell hadn’t cracked the spine. Hell, she was outright clueless.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she lied. The words had no sooner tripped off her lips than she regretted them, because she saw in his eyes that he knew she lied.
“I’m sorry.” The apology slipped out before she could even consider the wisdom of offering it.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Really.”
She wasn’t altogether sure what the “really” meant, but the okay part was just Steve being nice and considerate. Steve being … Steve.
Suddenly, she remembered where she’d been going.
She remembered Chase.
A big lump of emotion formed in her gut. “I need to go. I have to … see someone.”
“We’ll talk later?” he asked.
“Yeah. Of course.” Maybe by then, she’d have her shit together and not be stuck in this awkwardness. Maybe she’d have a damn plan.
Nodding, she took her first step down the path.
“Della?” he called out.
She stopped moving, but didn’t look back. She needed a second to prepare herself, almost afraid of what he was going to say.
Chapter Thirteen
Chase walked into the cabin, got Baxter some food and water, and pointed the dog to his new bed. The dog was too busy sniffing around to care. Finally, after checking out all of the rooms and all of the corners, the dog started following him around.
Opening one of the boxes he’d brought over from his cabin, Chase set the picture of his family on an end table.
Running his finger over their faces, he stared at them for a few minutes, letting himself miss them. It didn’t hurt like it used to, but he’d bet there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about them.
Baxter moved in and poked his leg with his snout. “It’s not the Hilton, but we’ve stayed in a lot worse,” he told the dog.
Baxter looked up with all-knowing eyes. He could almost read the animal’s thoughts.
“Yeah,” he said. “She’s the reason we’re here.”
Still amped up after his conversation with Steve, he moved to the kitchen table and pulled his laptop out of his backpack to plug it in. He found the list of Stones and Williamses he’d gotten from Burnett’s FRU computer in his pocket. He started pulling up maps, planning to visit each and every one.
Some of them for the second time. Because after a closer look, he’d noted that a couple of them were ones the Vampire Council database had spit out as well. He’d tracked down several of them.
Feeling his mood and his lack of sleep pull at his shoulders, he rubbed his neck. Looking back toward the bedroom door, he considered trying to rest, but he’d hoped Della would come looking for him.
Refocusing on the screen, he almost jumped when Baxter let go of a deep bark. The dog stared at a window.
Chase listened, and all he heard was a bird fluttering from tree to tree.
“Just a bird,” he told Baxter, then inhaled to make sure he was right. The air gave him nothing, but he instantly became aware of a fresh paint smell. And from the looks of the smallest bedroom, they hadn’t finished painting.
Pushing away from the table, he lifted the window to bring in some fresh air.
He went and opened the front door, staring out, hoping he’d see or hear Della coming. How long was the meeting with Burnett going to take?
He recalled her words and the pain in her voice. He knows I’m a monster.
Hell, he didn’t have to wait for her. “Come on, guy. Let’s go find her.”
* * *
“Della,” Steve said again, as if he weren’t sure she’d heard him.
She pushed back the notion of just ignoring him, and turned to face him again. “Yeah?”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
This time she decided to go for the truth. “No. But ‘okay’ is overrated.”
It was supposed to be funny, but he didn’t smile. He just continued to study her with those dark, caring eyes. Eyes that seemed to see through her charade.
“It’s just that you look…”
“Like shit? I know. Burnett just told me.”
He smiled this time. “I wasn’t going to say … that. You look beaten.”
“Beaten? Me?” she asked, offended. “I prefer shit.”
His smile widened. “Okay, not beaten, maybe just tired.”
As good as it was to see him smile, she didn’t have it in her to return the gesture. “Yeah, I need to hit the sheets for a while.” Right then she recalled how many times she and Steve had hit the sheets together. They would hold on to each other, take things to a certain point—almost to the breaking point—but they’d never crossed the line.
She’d been scared. Scared it wouldn’t last. She’d been right.
He claimed he couldn’t handle her working with Chase, but the truth was he’d planned all along to go to Paris to a school for shape-shifters.
He glanced away for a second, and she could swear he’d read her thoughts. “Well, I gotta…” She waved. “Later.”
He nodded, and his eyes met hers again. While she couldn’t read his expression, something told her he wasn’t any more comfortable with this conversation than she was. She turned and walked away. Walked. Not ran.
With every step, she felt him watch her go. It hit her that the last time h
e’d been at Shadow Falls, she’d watched him leave. She didn’t know if it meant anything, but for some freaky reason it felt as if it did.
* * *
Instead of taking the path to cabin fourteen, Della cut through a patch of woods. The day was gloomy. And secluded in the alcove of the woods, it appeared almost dark. The damp earth scented the air. Some of the rain from earlier fell from the trees above and splattered on her forearms. A drop spattered onto her face and rolled down her cheek like a tear. She ignored it and kept walking.
Soon she realized something else she was trying to ignore. The feeling as if she weren’t alone. Stopping, she turned a full circle, listening, looking, and inviting trouble to come on out if it lurked in the shadows.
Nothing.
Probably her lack of sleep.
Or the dead.
She evaluated the temperature. It was cold, but was that Mother Nature or a ghost?
“Mrs. Chi? Is that you?”
She got nothing again.
“Bao Yu?” she whispered her name.
Only a light breeze and a distant bird answered back. A few more drops of leftover rain hit her face.
Feeling silly, she took off again. The closer she got to cabin fourteen, the quieter she walked—watching her every step, being extra careful her black boots didn’t snap a twig.
Oh, he would hear her and smell her before she arrived, but the thought of giving him less time to try to come up with a story seemed like a good idea.
She spotted his cabin, and took a deep breath to catch his scent. It lingered in the air, but weak. Stronger were spots where Baxter had lifted his leg and left the world a message that he was there.
She was glad she didn’t have to squat and pee to be noticed.
She took a few more steps toward the wooden structure. Was Chase here? The closer she got, the more certain she was that he wasn’t in. As she stepped up onto the porch, she inhaled again, checking to see if her canine friend Baxter waited inside.
When she’d been in the office, she’d heard Chase call the dog as if he’d wanted to see her. And the truth was, she’d like to see Baxter, too. She got a few feet closer.
No Baxter, either.
She almost left, then stopped.