“I told Shirley. She didn’t see how him drawing dark pictures meant anything was wrong. She said he’d suffered from nightmare disorder since he was a kid and he’d always drawn the things he’d seen in the dreams, that I was making a fuss about nothing.” Sawyer sighed. “I listened to her, and now he’s dead, and so are a bunch of other people. I have to live with that.”
After a short pause, Jaime spoke. “Shirley said somebody used to text him a lot back then. Was that you?”
“Yes,” replied Sawyer. “I liked to check on him, see how he was. I’ll admit it, it started out as me trying to impress Riley. But when I realized how bad his situation was, when I realized how little I’d done over the years to defend this person, I felt like shit about it and wanted to help him.” He shrugged. “But I couldn’t,” he added grimly. “None of us could.”
As she and Ryan reached Cynthia’s cabin, Makenna sighed. She really wasn’t looking forward to talking to this bitch, but it had to be done. Her mostly mute mate certainly wasn’t going to do it, and that was for the best, since he wasn’t exactly a people person. “Please try to refrain from grunting at her. I don’t want to give her an excuse to shut the door in our faces.”
Ryan, of course, grunted.
“I don’t want to be near her either, so let’s just get it over with.” Stepping onto the porch, Makenna knocked on the door.
Cynthia opened it a crack, eyes narrowed. “I’m not answering any of your questions, I have nothing to say.”
“Riley said you’d avoid talking with us,” Makenna lied, “but I said you wouldn’t do anything that would make you look guilty. Not unless you had anything to hide, anyway. Do you?”
Her eyes flared. “No, I do not.”
“But you won’t talk to us,” Makenna pointed out.
Her lips flattened. “I don’t have to.”
“In your position, I’d want to know who shot my sister and see them pay. And I’d accept all the help I could get.”
Cynthia hesitated, seeming torn.
“We just have a few questions.” Makenna’s tone was steady and friendly. “It won’t take long.”
With a sigh of impatience, Cynthia opened the door a little wider. “I firmly believe that the person who shot my sister is not part of this flock. Everyone here likes Lucy.” The latter was said with a note of envy. “We were all scarred by what happened four years ago. None of us would wish to see it happen again.”
“You were invited to Alec’s party, but you didn’t go. Why?”
Cynthia blinked. “I had every intention of going. I was simply late getting ready.”
“Was there anyone who asked you not to go?”
She put a hand on her hip. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Humor me.”
“Duncan asked me to meet him at the make-out spot near the hot springs. We used to date back then. But I told him I would be at the party and that he should meet me there. I wasn’t going to miss a party like that.”
Makenna heard the lie. “Really? Because we heard differently,” she bluffed, hoping Cynthia might believe they’d spoken with the others first and heard something to contradict her.
Cynthia’s eyes tightened. “Sawyer told you.” She sniffed. “Okay, fine, I invited him to my house that night. I didn’t think he’d want to go to the party anyway, after all the shit that happened between him and Alec.”
“Can you elaborate?” asked Ryan.
Cynthia replied, “He ordered Alec and his friends to ease up on Wade, though I’ve no idea why he cared. They agreed. The next night, they beat the shit out of Wade—Alec was sending a message to Sawyer that he wouldn’t take orders from him. They ended up dueling, and Alec submitted when it became clear he wasn’t going to win. He then apologized, and so did the others. A few nights later, they all went to a bar together. At some point they got Sawyer drunk, stripped him naked, tied him to a tree, and left him there . . . but not before taking photographic evidence. You can imagine how much that pissed off Sawyer.”
Yeah, Makenna could. Dominant males had a proud streak a hundred miles long.
“Of course, Sawyer then practically pulverized Alec when he got home,” Cynthia went on. “It wasn’t the first time they’d gone head-to-head like that, and it probably wouldn’t have been the last.”
“When did that happen?”
“Maybe a month before the party, something like that. They’d settled things by then, but it still surprised me that Sawyer said he would go. I sure wouldn’t have risked getting drunk around them again, in his position.”
“I see. One last thing . . . Is there anyone who might have a grudge against the people of your age-group?”
“Sure. Riley. Oh, I can see that you doubt that. Ask her how many years of her life she spent defending poor Wade. Ask how many years she spent arguing and fighting the people who continued to target him, no matter what she did. Maybe she blamed them all for his depression.”
Bitch. Makenna offered her a grateful smile that she suspected bared a few too many teeth. “Thanks for your time.”
“You’re welcome.” Then she slammed the door in their faces.
Grunting, Ryan herded Makenna to the end of Cynthia’s path.
“Such a sweetheart,” Makenna remarked. “At least she talked to us. Hopefully, Duncan does too.”
Makenna and Ryan headed straight to the eastern border, where they had been told they could find Duncan. He was sitting on a large rock. At the sight of them approaching, he slowly stood . . . like a snake uncoiling. He stared at them with blatant distrust.
Hoping to put him at ease, Makenna smiled as she introduced herself and Ryan. “We’d like to speak with you, if you can spare us a few minutes. Our questions are pretty basic.”
After a long moment, Duncan said, “All right. Ask.”
“Why didn’t you go to Alec’s party?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
She blinked. “Your father is under the impression that you should have been there.”
“I told him I was going,” said Duncan. “Really, my plan was to meet with Cynthia near the hot springs.”
Makenna nodded. “Why weren’t you invited?”
Duncan shrugged. “Probably because Alec had never liked me much. Cynthia dumped him for me, and he didn’t take it too well.”
“Did Cynthia agree to meet with you that night?”
“No.”
“Sawyer says that Cynthia invited him to her house,” Makenna said as sensitively as possible.
“She probably did,” said Duncan, his tone surprisingly even. “Cynthia likes having her cake and eating it too. Back then, she didn’t want to end things with me, but she wanted Sawyer—she’s wanted him for a long time.”
And that clearly hurt him, thought Makenna as pain briefly spiked in his eyes. She couldn’t help feeling a little bad for him. “Do you have any idea who, other than Wade, might have had a grudge against your age-group?”
Duncan shook his head. “No.”
Makenna felt Ryan tense beside her, and she knew why; she’d sensed the lie too. “Duncan, now is really not the time to hold back information.”
He glanced away. “I’ve told you all I know.”
“Is it about Cynthia?”
He exhaled heavily. “Yes, okay. And if I say anything, you’ll point fingers at her.”
“She already has fingers pointed at her, Duncan,” said Makenna. “I know you want to protect her, and I can understand that. But someone shot at Riley and Lucy. They have to be stopped.”
“Cynthia wouldn’t hurt Lucy.”
He seemed to genuinely believe that, Makenna thought. She, on the other hand, didn’t. Blood didn’t always mean anything to people. “Then what’s the harm in telling us why she might have held a grudge against all the others?”
“It wasn’t that she held a grudge.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Look, someone hurt her, okay? Hurt her bad.”
Makenna’s stomach turne
d, because it was clear by the torment in his eyes just what he meant by “hurt.” She didn’t like Cynthia, but she could still feel sympathy for her. “Who did it?” But Duncan didn’t answer; he just stared over her shoulder. “Answer me this, at least: were they at the party that night?”
“I don’t know.”
“Duncan.”
“I don’t know. Cynthia doesn’t know who hurt her. She woke up near the waterfall. She was soaking wet, like she’d been dunked in it. Her clothes were torn, her mind was fuzzy like she’d been drugged, and she was . . . she was sore enough to know she’d been raped. But she had no idea who’d done it, no memory of anything happening.”
Well, fuck. “When did this happen?” He hesitated to answer, so she gently pushed. “When?”
“Six months before the shootings.”
“Did she tell her parents?”
“No. She was ashamed. Control is important to Cynthia. Whoever attacked her took that away from her that night. The only reason I know is that she showed up at my house after she woke up near the waterfall. She had no scents on her—the water had washed them away. I helped her shower, dressed her in some of my mom’s clothes . . . and then she just left. She hasn’t spoken about it since. She refuses to admit it even happened.”
Working at the shelter for lone shifters, Makenna had met many people who’d been assaulted, and many who denied it because it was really the only way they could cope.
“Now you’re thinking that gives her reason to want all those people dead, that maybe she thought the best way to know she’d hurt the person who’d hurt her was if she took out every one of them.” Duncan shook his head. “There’s no saying for sure that it wasn’t one of the adults in the flock who did it. Besides, she’s blocked it out. She won’t face it, let alone stew enough on it to seek vengeance.”
He did have a point, she thought. “Do you have any idea who might have done it?”
“If I did, they’d be dead.” A mocking glint entered his eyes. “Now you’re thinking I have motive too, right? Who says I didn’t have them killed in the hope that I might have avenged her?”
“Did you?” asked Ryan.
“No,” said Duncan. “But if I’d known who did it, I would have avenged her. She can be a bitch and she gets off on hurting people, which has earned her plenty of enemies, but she didn’t deserve that.”
Makenna would have to agree with that. “I appreciate you answering our questions. I won’t mention anything about Cynthia’s attack to the flock.”
Once she and Ryan were out of Duncan’s hearing, Ryan said to her, “Don’t feel bad for her. She’s an A-class bitch who’s done her best to make Riley miserable.”
Makenna sighed. “I know. I’ve learned that some people are just hateful and negative. You’d think that anyone who woke up to a view like this would be a happy person. I mean, look at all those cacti and rocks and mountains. Bet you see some cool wildlife around here.” She abruptly halted and threw out her arm, barring Ryan from taking a single step forward. “Look, there’s a penny on the floor by your foot. Didn’t I tell you you’d be getting money soon?” She bent to pick it up but then snatched back her hand. “It’s tails side up. Don’t touch it.”
Grunting, Ryan shook his head and walked away.
Makenna gaped at his back. “There’s no need for language like that, White Fang.”
When the Phoenix wolves returned to Riley and Tao’s temporary cabin later, they all settled in the den, where they discussed how the interrogations had gone.
Afterward Tao said, “So, in short, each of them has a reason to have—at the very least—been pissed with the kids who died that night.”
Dante slid his fist down Jaime’s long sable ponytail. “I meant to ask you, Riley, did anyone try pressuring you to not go to the party?”
“They didn’t need to,” said Riley. “I had no intention of going.”
Makenna’s brow creased. “Why did you?”
“Lucy wanted to go, but she didn’t want to go alone.” Riley held up a hand before anyone tried to imply Lucy had had anything to do with what happened. “It can’t be Lucy—she was shot.”
“She could have an accomplice, though that’s stretching things a bit,” said Ryan.
Tao curled an arm around Riley. “You said you wouldn’t have gone at all if Lucy hadn’t asked you.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So it’s possible that people didn’t expect you to be there. Wade might have been surprised to see you.”
Riley swallowed, remembering Wade’s vacant stare. “I don’t think he was feeling much of anything that night, least of all surprise.”
Dante turned to Tao. “What does your gut tell you? I trust your gut.”
“I can’t trust my gut,” said Tao. “I’m too pissed at these people about other things to be unbiased about this.”
Riley had the exact same problem. Although she had no idea what to think, she found herself smiling at each of the wolves. “I’m really glad you guys came.”
Jaime returned the smile. “Of course we came. You’re pack.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I was thinking we could go home tomorrow.”
Riley literally dropped the game controller. Did he have to go ruin the afternoon? They’d had a perfectly good day so far playing on the Xbox she’d borrowed from Max, and it had been pretty fun beating Tao’s ass at Killer Instinct. Now he was blurting out crap. “Look—”
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Tao turned to fully face her. “It’s been four days, Riley. Four. Nothing else has happened. Not a single thing. I think we were wrong about the shooter wanting to finish off from where Wade started. I think they just wanted to hurt you through Ethan and Lucy. You were there when we ran the theory by Sage and Ruby yesterday; they agree.”
“You’re probably right, but I still want to see someone punished.”
Tao pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him. “Do you? Do you really want to stick around here when you could be at home, where you belong?” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t think you do. And I don’t think your raven does either.”
He was right about that. The raven didn’t think of Exodus territory as home anymore. She found a certain level of comfort in it and enjoyed being there, but she missed Phoenix Pack territory, craved it. And yeah, okay, so did Riley.
Smoothing his hand up and down her back, he asked, “Don’t you want to get back home to the kids?”
Riley’s chest tightened. “Of course I do.” She missed them like crazy, and it hurt every time she had to explain to them on the phone that she’d be gone a little longer.
“Aren’t they more important to you than retribution?”
“You know they are.”
“Then let’s just get out of here.” He framed her face with his hands. “I spoke with Trey on the phone last night. Ramón has completely backed off. He hasn’t made a single call since Trey spoke to him on the day you were shot at. It’s safe to go home. It’s time. Sage will keep investigating the shootings—he wants to know who shot Lucy as much as you do.”
She closed her eyes, torn. For a while it had been rage that kept her there. But now that her thirst for blood had somewhat eased, she was more interested in getting back to the kids than in letting the gunman keep her away from Savannah and Dexter. The bastard didn’t deserve any such power.
Sighing, she opened her eyes. “All right, we can go.”
Tao smiled and kissed her. “That’s my girl.” His wolf pretty much sagged in relief.
“But I’d like to see Lucy before we leave. I want to check on her.”
Tao nodded. “I’ll call Sage, tell him that we’re leaving, and ask if he’ll let you in Lucy’s room to say goodbye. How’s that?”
“That would be good.”
Tao pulled out his cell. “What’s his number?”
“I don’t know it by heart. Just use my phone.” She plucked it from the coffee table and handed it to him.
br /> He found Sage’s number in her list of contacts and dialed it, keeping Riley pressed against him so she could hear the conversation. It took a while for the Alpha to answer.
“Hello,” he greeted, his voice unusually gruff.
“Sage, it’s Tao.”
“I take it you heard, then.”
Tao stilled. “Heard what?”
“About Sawyer.”
“What about him?”
“He was shot twenty minutes ago.”
Fuck. Not the least bit surprised that Riley’s eyes were blazing with anger, Tao asked the Alpha, “What exactly happened?”
“He was patrolling the perimeter, just as he does most mornings,” replied Sage. “Hugh heard the shot and, given what had been happening lately, didn’t want to assume it was a human hunter. He was first on the scene and managed to stop the blood flow. The bullet tore through Sawyer’s side, but thankfully it didn’t hit any major organs.” He paused. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard about it. We had to call Max in—he and Ethan know what happened.” There was the sound of other voices in the background, and then Sage said, “I have to go, Tao. We can speak again later.”
Tao slung her phone onto the table. “You hear all that?”
Riley jumped to her feet. “What the hell is going on, Tao?”
“I don’t know.” Standing, he once again fished out his cell. “I have to call Dante.”
She grabbed her own phone. “I’ll be talking to Ethan. I want to know why he didn’t tell me what happened.” It turned out that Ethan hadn’t told her straightaway because someone was starting to speculate that Riley was somehow involved, and Ethan hadn’t wanted her anywhere near the mob of people whose emotions were running high. When she passed on that information to Tao, his face turned a disturbing shade of red.
“You are shitting me,” rumbled Tao.
“I wish I was.” Hurt, angry, and confused, Riley began to pace. “Ethan avoided the question when I asked him who it was. I don’t know why.”
“How can anyone suspect you?” His wolf bared his teeth, pissed beyond belief. “Everyone knows that you were there when both Ethan and Lucy were shot! How the fuck could it have possibly been you?”