“Gotta run. Working,” she said, hanging up the phone. She turned to Mabel. “Sorry about that.”
Avery’s face had turned to stone. He reached for the phone.
Dana had two options. She could lie to Avery and tell him that it hadn’t been Cole on the line. Or she could surrender her phone, and Avery could get the SF to attempt to trace the phone number. Cole called her twice a week, at least. Always a different number—a different phone. He changed them out too quickly for them to find him.
Either way, Cole wouldn’t get found.
But Avery always got so worked up when he failed to get the guy.
Still, she didn’t want to risk lying to Avery about Cole, and having Avery flip out about that. She slid the phone across the table.
Avery stood up. “Excuse me for a few moments. I have a little business to take care of.”
Mabel nodded.
Dana fiddled with the recorder. “Let’s start over, all right?”
“You know,” said Mabel, “there’s a place youse should try to go. It’s a farm in Virginia. A big group of werewolves live there. They’re a little out there, if you know what I mean, kind of hippie types. But they do have an alternative approach to packs, and maybe they’d know more about breaking the bonds with your pack. It’s a place called Hunter’s Moon Farm.”
Dana turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “In Virginia?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Little town called Brockway.”
The same Hunter’s Moon Farm? How crazy was that? There were werewolves on that farm? “I, uh, grew up in Brockway, Virginia.”
“Really?” Mabel grinned. “Small world, huh?”
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