Beneath a Darkening Moon (11 page)

Well, that was just too bad. He was here to catch a killer, nothing more. The fact that she seemed to be part of the bargain was a quirk of fate neither of them could alter. And even if she didn’t like the fact that the moon gave her no choice, she’d enjoy the sex. But if he was expecting anything more than sex, then he needed his head checked.

Steve was walking through the gates, fingerprint kit and notebook in hand. “What’s up, boss?” His deep voice was more gravelly than usual, and his hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in a month.

Too many cigarettes and beer last night, she thought, and wondered when he was going to start taking his health seriously. “Someone left a threatening note on my car this morning. After Anton checks the truck for devices, I want you to go over it with a fine-tooth comb.”

“I dare say the IIS will, too.”

“Probably. So keep an eye on what they find and let me know.” She held out her hand. “I need your car keys to go visit Denny.”

“Don’t tell me that stupid little punk is involved?”

“According to Anni, he delivered the note.”

“Idiot.” He handed her the keys then coughed heavily as he walked away.

She resisted the urge to order him to the doctor and
headed over to the car. Cade joined her a few minutes later. “So tell me about this Denny,” he said as he buckled himself in.

She shifted gears and pulled out of the lot. “His dad died in a car accident about eight years ago. His mom has spoiled the kid since, and believes he can do no wrong. Denny, of course, now figures he can do whatever he wants and get away with it.”

“A brat, in other words.”

She nodded. “And not the brightest of bulbs, either.”

“Will he be at home?”

“Unlikely. His usual haunt is the basketball court over on Monarch Street.”

“He doesn’t go to school?”

“He quit when he was sixteen.” She glanced at him. “He’s now eighteen, but he looks at least twenty-four.”

He fell silent for a few moments, but his gaze was something she could feel—a heat that slid through her veins as smoothly as his hands had slid over her skin. And it stirred her just as quickly.

Why hadn’t the moon fever faded with the daylight? Was that the price she had to pay for running before the promise had ended? Or was it simply a matter of being close to the one man who had affected her in a way that no other man ever had? Either way, however, it was going to present problems. Could she really do her job and hunt down a murderer when her hormones had her as jumpy as a bitch in heat?

She really didn’t know, and
that
was the major problem—not the unfulfilled moon promise.

“What?” she said, when she couldn’t stand the growing silence any longer.

“Have you kept in contact with any of your friends from Rosehall?”

She slanted him a cool glance which was nothing but a brave front, but he didn’t know that. “According to you, I didn’t have friends. I just had bedmates.”

“What about Nelle James?”

Nelle
. So that’s what this line of questioning was about. “I didn’t sleep with Nelle.”

His expression suggested he very much doubted her, and
that
was infuriating. She hadn’t shared herself with
everyone
at the commune, no matter what he thought, and she most definitely hadn’t slept with women. Not that she had anything against those who did; it’s just that it didn’t rock
her
boat.

“But you were close,” he said. “Very close.”

Yes, because Nelle had taken her under her wing when she’d first arrived at the commune, showing her the ropes and quickly introducing her to Jontee. She’d barely even been there a month when she became one of his “true believers”—a position that was highly sought after but rarely gifted, and one she’d thoroughly enjoyed. And then Cade had come along and wrecked it all. “What of it?”

“You warned her to run, didn’t you?”

His voice was flat, but she shot him a quick look. His expression was just as flat as his voice, but his eyes glimmered with the faintest hint of fury.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because she was my friend.”

“And your friend was involved in murder.”

The anger that had been bubbling under the surface surged to life, and it was all she could do to keep it
in check. Goddamn it, was he trying to destroy every good memory of those times? “Why would you think Nelle has anything to do with Jontee’s schemes?”

“Because there
was
someone else involved. There had to be.”

“Why?”

“Think about it, Vannah. Did Jontee really seem capable of pulling off the sheer amount of planning those murders would have taken?”

“No, but he obviously did.”

“But I don’t think he did it alone.”

“Well, Nelle couldn’t have been involved.” Damn it, she hadn’t been
that
bad a judge of character, surely, even if she
had
been young. “Besides, once the news of the murders had leaked, we
did
discuss it, and Nelle had been as shocked and as disbelieving as everyone else.”

“So why, in all the years since, have we never been able to track down Nelle James?”

“That one fact makes you jump to the conclusion that she had to have been involved? I mean, it couldn’t be something as simple as her using a false name at Rosehall, now could it?”

“Like you, you mean?”

“Yes.” She glanced at him. “And you always did think I knew more than what I was saying.”

“That’s because you damn well did. It’s thanks to you—or rather, the information I pulled out of your mind—that I caught Jontee.”

“Pulled being the operative word.” She hesitated and took a deep breath, trying to calm the old anger. “That hurt, you know—physically
and
emotionally. You might as well have raped me.”

His brief look was almost contemptuous. “I’ve pulled information out of suspects’ minds many times before, and most of the time the person I was with wasn’t even aware of it. Let’s not get so dramatic about what actually happened.”

“But were most of those others telepathic, like you? Like me?”

“No …”

“There’s your answer, then.”

He frowned. “But why would that make any difference?”

She shook her head. He couldn’t see the harm in it, even all these years later. And why would he? He’d been there to catch a murderer, and she was no more than a means to an end with whom he happened to share an amazing sexual relationship.

She just wished she could have said the same about him. Life would have been so much easier—then and now.

She stopped the car as close to the basketball courts as possible and pointed across the road. “There’s Denny, in the blue and black. Let me talk to him first.”

“Afraid I’ll hit him?” Cade said, voice edged with contempt.

She snorted softly. “You’re not the type. But raping his mind? You’ve already proven yourself more than capable of that.”

He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh, bruising her. “It wasn’t rape of
any
kind, Vannah.”

“Then what else would you call forced entry into another telepath’s mind?” She wrenched her arm away from his and climbed out. The cool wind ran
fingers through her hair, chilling her scalp but not her anger.

Damn him for being here, she thought as she slammed the door closed. And damn her for letting him get to her. She was a ranger
and
a grown woman now. She ought to know better.

She walked around the car and across the road without bothering to see if he followed. But his footsteps told her he wasn’t far behind. It was like being trailed by a storm cloud; his presence was that dark, that furious.

Denny glanced up, his face paling a little when he spotted them. He caught the ball and, for several seconds, looked as if he was going to run. Then a smirk touched his lips.

“Morning, Ranger Grant.” His gaze went past her, and his bravado slipped a little.

If Cade looked as scary as he felt, then Savannah couldn’t actually fault the kid for being a little frightened.

“Who paid you to drop that note under my wipers?” she said.

“I didn’t—”

“Denny, Anni saw you.”

“Sneaking cow,” he muttered, then sniffed. “And what if I did? It was only a joke …”

“Did you read it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know it was a threat.”

“No, it wasn’t. She told me—” He stopped abruptly.

Something in her stomach clenched, but before she could say anything, Cade demanded, “She who?”

Though his voice was flat, there was an undercurrent
that suggested violence. Denny swallowed and went white, which was not an easy thing for a brown wolf to achieve.

“I don’t know. I never saw her before.”

“Was she young? Old?” Cade snapped.

Savannah crossed her arms and resisted the temptation to tell him to take it down a notch. After all, he was getting answers more quickly than she usually did.

“Young,” Denny stammered. “Late teens, maybe even early twenties. She said she’d meet me later tonight and pay me.”

“Where?” Savannah asked, obscurely relieved. The age meant it couldn’t have been Nelle, as Cade had undoubtedly believed.

“At Club Grange.”

“A local rave room,” she said for Cade’s benefit. And it was a venue that had caused more than its share of problems over the last few months. For some strange reason, people seemed to think out of town meant safe from the rangers. “Give me a description, Denny.”

“About my height. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Big tits.” He shrugged.

“Wolf?”

He snorted. “When they look like that, who cares?”

“You’d better start caring,” Cade said, “because you’re in deep shit this time.”

“For a note?”

“Threatening an officer of the law is a crime.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“But you did.” Cade paused. “Of course, if you were to go to that club tonight and point the woman
out to us, I might consider letting you off with a warning.”

“And miss out—”

“Would you rather have sex or a firsthand view of a jail cell?”

If the kid’s expression was anything to go by, it was a close run thing.

“All right,” he muttered eventually. “I gotta meet her at ten.”

“In the main room or the moon room?” Savannah asked.

He half-sneered, then his gaze shot beyond her and his bravado fled again. “Moon room.”

“Then we’ll be there, too,” Cade said. “And if you’re not—”

He let the words hang, but Denny’s expression suggested he definitely got the message. “Can I go now?”

Savannah nodded, and the teenager scampered, leaving her alone with Cade once more.

Oh, joy
, she thought sourly. After taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she turned around. His expression was every bit as dark as she’d expected.

“If we go there tonight, the news will spread like wildfire and our suspect
won’t
show.”

“So is this place just for teens?”

“No, but it’s recently become the must-go place for the late teen and early twenties set.” Mainly thanks to her old man’s attempts to shut the place down. Nothing like a good bit of council outrage to make the inquisitive sit up and take notice.

“And what is the moon room?”

She half-smiled. “Just because the leaders of this
town are against the moon dance doesn’t mean all its citizens are.”

“Naturally, seeing as there’s a Sinclair clan living on the reservation.” He crossed his arms, and she clenched her fingers against the urge to run her fingers across all the muscles that gesture revealed. “But what has that got to do with the moon room at this club?”

“It’s outside city limits and on private land. Just as the Sinclair mansion is.”

“Ah. So the moon room is, in fact, a safe place where wolves can celebrate.” He frowned. “But Denny is underage. He can’t legally be at a bar.”

She snorted. “Like teenagers all around the world don’t get past that problem? Anyway, his mom lives and works at the bar, and her brother owns the place, so technically he’s under the supervision of his parent and on home ground. And he doesn’t drink.”

“Just … celebrates?”

She nodded. “The problem with us going there tonight is that everyone knows me. And that’ll alert our quarry.”

His gaze slid down her body and heat prickled across her skin, igniting the ache deep inside. Her nipples hardened, pressing painfully against her shirt. She licked her lips, trying to remain calm and collected when her pulse raced so loudly it seemed to roar in her ears. Lord, how she wanted him. Wanted to run her hands over his warm, hard flesh, feel the press of it against her breasts, her belly, her thighs. To drink in his scent and his arousal and lose herself in that place that contained only pleasure. No memories, no lies, just pure, unadulterated bliss. They’d
had that last night and could so easily have it again, here and now.

Had she been anywhere else but the middle of a very public park, the sheer force of her need for him might have had her crossing the line she’d drawn between them. But thankfully, they weren’t alone. Or secluded.

When his gaze finally rose to meet hers again, there wasn’t only the thick heat of lust in his eyes, but the need to hurt, to accuse. She braced herself against his words.

“I’m sure you can change your appearance,” he drawled. “After all, that was one of the things you were so good at, wasn’t it? Changing your appearance to match each newcomer’s needs?”

The barb cut deep—not so much because it was true, but because he still clung to the belief that she’d bedded every male at the commune. But she forced an eyebrow upward, feigning a calm she didn’t feel. “I never had any complaints.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. You were so very good at your work, after all.”

“Yes, I was, wasn’t I?” She stepped around him, then briefly stopped and met his gaze again. “And tell me, who is the biggest whore? The woman who sleeps with a man for the sheer pleasure of it, or the man who sleeps with the woman for the sole purpose of getting information?”

“I was working undercover,” he bit back as he followed her. “That was part of the job.”

“I’m sure it was, but that doesn’t actually answer the question.” She unlocked the car and strode around to the driver’s side. “Where to next?”