Read Howling Moon Online

Authors: C. T. Adams,Cathy Clamp

Tags: #Romance:Paranormal

Howling Moon (40 page)

BOOK: Howling Moon
4.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

“I
don’t envy
you, Dad. When she wakes up she is going to be seriously pissed.”

“Don’t remind me.” Raphael stifled a yawn. He carried Cat gently into her bedroom and lay her on top of the bed. He pulled off her shoes, dropping them onto the floor. Unfolding the quilt she kept at the end of the bed, he pulled it over her, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead as he did.

He’d hated using his Second Sight magic to put her out, but he’d done it. She was already distraught from last night’s horror. The last thing she needed was to relive her parents’ attack. He knew she’d be angry. It didn’t matter. This was for her own good. Besides, he firmly believed that this was a Wolven matter, and no matter how intimately it might involve Cat, she was not, nor had she ever been, a cop.

Raphael straightened up. Taking a deep, steadying breath he turned to go back into the living room. He heartily wished that either Lucas or Ivan were here. Neither had been able to make it. Lucas had taken the Wolven jet, headed to Chicago on business. He wasn’t answering his phone. Ivan was back with Charles. Like Charles and Councilwoman Angelique Calibria, he’d be watching the events unfold via live video feed.

Raphael walked down the narrow hall to Cat’s living room, yawning hugely as he went. The bond he shared with her made it damned difficult for him to stay awake and alert.

“What I wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee,” he muttered.

“Don’t even think about it,” Charles advised. His voice came through so clearly Raphael would have sworn he was standing in the living room with Raven. “You do
not
want her waking up in the middle of this.”

Raphael didn’t comment. There was no point arguing, particularly when he agreed completely. Instead, he extended his hand, accepting the box of latex gloves Raven handed him. He pulled on a pair, fighting not to sneeze as the powder tickled his nose.

“I’ll unpack the box,” Raven suggested. “You take the pictures and bag and tag the evidence.”

Raphael nodded his agreement and picked up the camera. A part of him was breathlessly eager to do this. His heart was pounding in his ears. So many years had gone by since he first recognized what Jack had become. So many lives lost.

Raphael said a silent prayer that something in that box would give them the last of what they needed. That
this
would be the last piece of the puzzle so that he could bring Jack down and see justice done.

“This is Agent Raven Ramirez,” Raven spoke for the benefit of the voice-activated recorder as well as the video camera that had been set up to record their actions for presentation to the council at their next meeting. He gave the date, and announced the identities of all of the witnesses present both physically and via remote.

Introduction completed, Raven reached inside the box and began pulling items one by one from the box, giving a running commentary as Raphael snapped photographs then bagged and tagged the evidence.

There was a pair of laptops, various cables, a leather case of repair tools. But it was the next pair of items that made Raphael and the others pause. The first was a cast-iron skillet with a long wooden handle, its bottom marred with deep scratches and stains. It smelled of Jack, and blood, and there were four short hairs from his fur caught in the space where the wood met the iron. Raven set the skillet facedown across the box. He walked over to the sofa and opened a black leather case that Raphael had been too preoccupied to notice earlier. Reaching inside, he retrieved tweezers, an evidence bag, and a pair of test tubes. With exquisite care he removed the hairs that had been caught, dropping them into the evidence bag and sealing it shut before giving it to Raphael to tag. Next, he scraped small amounts of the dried blood into each test tube before sealing them and passing them over. He then went back to the case, retrieving fluorescent fingerprint powder with which to dust the pan’s handle.

Slowly, meticulously they handled each bit of evidence as professionally as possible. There would be no room for criticism, no legitimate question of authenticity. Raphael knew there would be no helping the unfounded questions. Everyone was well aware of the situation between him and Jack. If Lucas had been available, Raphael would have stepped away from the picture, to avoid even the hint of impropriety.

It took time, but at last they reached the final item in the box. It was a video camera with a cassette still inside.

Raphael took a deep sniff. This was what he had scented most strongly. It smelled of a man and a woman, but most of all, it smelled of blood.

“Someone tried to wipe it clean,” Raven observed. “They didn’t do a very good job, though. The flap is stuck shut.” They processed the evidence on the outside of the camera first. When they’d finished, it was Charles who spoke.

“Open it,” he ordered. “We need to see what’s on that tape.”

“There’s nothing here to watch it on,” Raphael said.

“I’ve got a setup next door,” Raven said. “It will take a few minutes to bring it over.”

“Do it.” Charles’s voice was curt. The councilwoman and Ivan remained utterly silent. “We’ll wait.”

Raphael walked down the hall to check on his mate. She was still deeply unconscious. He knew that. But he was not, under any circumstances, going to be alone with the evidence. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, reaching one hand out to touch Cat’s sleeping form. He was fiercely glad he’d put her under, but he was also proud. He couldn’t believe she’d actually hit the cat in the head with a frying pan. It was funny in a sick, pathetic way – an act of desperation straight out of an old movie. Still, the blood and hair on the pan proved it had been more than a little effective. “That’s my Cat, all right. You’re a fighter. No doubt about it.”

He half listened as, in the background, Charles and Angelique, councilwoman for the raptors, argued about what was to be done. It was the first the councilwoman had heard of the plan, and she was clearly unhappy about it. “Zis should have been debated before ze council! It iz
not
ze purview of ze Chief Justice – “

“The council reports to
me,
Angelique. Not the other way around. I will present our evidence to the council, and you may vote as you will. But know this: ultimately, I can override the council’s wishes, and I will if I have to.”

Raphael heard the slam of the apartment door, heard Raven shuffling around setting up the equipment. Still, he didn’t leave Cat’s side until Raven called his name and announced they were ready.

The tape was rewinding when Raphael walked into the room. Raven grabbed the remote from on top of the television and took his seat.

The tension was palpable. There was no conversation. Here and in Europe every witness sat on the edge of his seat, attention riveted.

It was a home video of a family vacation. It showed a sunny summer afternoon. Three very happy, affectionate people were teasing each other. He recognized Chris and Janet from the picture Charles had given him to paint the portrait, but seeing them move, watching them speak, he was struck forcibly by how
alive
they’d been. Their resemblance to and affection for their daughter was obvious.

When Cat first came into view Raphael gave a start. It was obviously her, but it was not the Cat he knew. She was acting the part of a put-upon daughter, frustrated and a little angry, but most of all soft. Any sexuality was latent. She wore a baggy pastel T-shirt that hid her figure with (of all things) wolf puppies on it over pink shorts and thongs. When her father said (for the tenth time) that this was their “last family vacation,” she groaned audibly.

“Just humor your father, dear,” her mother answered, “and wave at the camera.” Cat buried her head in her hands in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation.

“I’m going to make myself some lemonade. Do either of you want any?”

“That would be lovely,” her mother answered. The camera panned to follow Cat as she went into a very elaborate and expensive motor home. When the door slammed closed behind her the woman spoke. “Put the camera down, Chris.”

“Why?”

“Because.” It wasn’t a reason, but the view from the camera shifted as he set it down. He didn’t bother to turn it off. The viewers had a few minutes of picnic-table-height view of the campground and the sound of their quiet conversation.

“You really
are
getting maudlin about this you know.” Her voice held a small amount of reproach.

“I know, it’s just… I wish the two of you would make up.”

Janet sighed. “She’ll get over it eventually. I can’t even blame her. I should have told her.”

“Still – “

“Don’t push!” she interrupted. “It’ll only make her dig in her heels.” Her tone turned playful. “Besides, I, for one, am looking forward to reaching our destination and having a little time
alone
with my husband.” Her teasing voice got the desired reaction.

“Oh, really?” The husband sounded positively eager. “Just what do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know – “ she began and the camera got bumped. The view only changed slightly, but the excellent sound system picked up what sounded like an incredibly passionate kiss.

That went on for a couple of minutes. Then it happened. It was fast – incredibly fast. Neither of the victims had seen it coming. Neither had time to be afraid.

It was gruesome, but it was mercifully quick. In the process of killing the couple Jack hadn’t noticed the camera and knocked it to the base of the picnic table. A wet, tearing sound accompanied Jack’s evisceration of Chris. Blood, hair, and worse splattered the camera lens.

The camera showed Jack’s attentions to Cat’s mother, her scream cut off suddenly, replaced by a wet gurgling. In the distance, the slam of the motor home door followed by me crash of glass and the terrified screams.

Jack snarled, and they heard the thump as he leapt to the ground. He was out of camera range now. The viewfinder was focused on a half-eaten arm slowly oozing blood. Still, the sound system picked up every noise.

She fought him. Raphael was so proud. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but he could hear. She wasn’t giving up without a fight. She managed to get loose, managed to hurt him badly enough to get into a hidey-hole where he couldn’t reach her. Raphael knew it because he heard the rage and frustration in Jack’s voice. “You can’t stay in there forever, you know.” Catherine gasped in disbelief. Raphael forced himself to concentrate on the sounds, ignoring the bloody arm.

Jack’s suave, rich baritone took on a snarling, toying tone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Raphael heard movement and a cry of pain. There were guttural noises as the cat tried to drag the Cat out of her “hole,” followed by the clang of metal hitting a hard surface, a male yelp of pain, and a series of curses. “You little bitch!”

“Atta
girl!”
Raven cheered softly.

“You’ll pay for mat!” Jack’s snarl brought Raphael’s attention back to the screen. There was the sound of movement. The arm was dragged out of camera range. There was a gasp, and a feminine sob.

You fucking bastard!
Raphael fought not to speak the words aloud. He remembered Cat’s words. “He
ate
them in front of me.” After seeing this, Raphael wondered how she was even remotely sane.

Jack’s voice, smooth and cultured, came from the screen: “Mmm, mmm, fresh meat.”

Jack taunted her mercilessly. Each comment, each action was a poisoned barb intended to draw her out – make her angry enough to get careless. It didn’t work. But it was the stuff of nightmares and insanity. Raphael didn’t know how she’d stood it – how she could stand it even now. He had never in his life wanted to kill someone so badly. That smooth, cultured voice, perfectly reproduced.

Time seemed to stop. Raphael’s thoughts cut abruptly away from the film. That was it, the last piece of the puzzle. There was no picture of Jack on the tape – at least not in human form. But it wasn’t necessary. That beautiful, perfectly reproduced voice was damning. As a senator involved in water and environmental issues Jack had spoken publicly often enough that anyone, at least anyone from the New Mexico/Colorado area would recognize it. The Sazi Council certainly would.

The tape played on. There were shouts and the sound of gunshots in the background. Cat’s screams had brought reinforcements. Jack was forced to flee, leaving behind a live witness and a damning video.

Silence stretched on for long moments. Finally, Raven rose, turning to face the camera phone. “I’ll bring the video with me for you to present to the council at the next meeting.”

“No.” Charles’s voice was soft, but there was an energy running beneath the words, a tension that spoke of barely controlled rage. His face on the screen was pale, his hands shaking. “Make me a copy. Keep the original in the safe. We’ll need it when the file is complete.”

“I don’t want Cat seeing this, Charles.” Raphael spoke carefully. “I’m not sure what it would do to her after last night.”

“What happened last night?” Angelique’s voice was a sharp screech that made Raphael wince. Raven turned to his father, his expression questioning. Raphael nodded his permission to tell them.

“Jack murdered a man, and he used a telepathic link to Cat to make her watch it.”

Charles absorbed the news as an almost physical blow. “Who? It wouldn’t have been random. Who was the victim?”

“Her former fiancé… Brad.”

“Jenkins.” Charles furnished the name. If anything, he paled further, but his eyes were dark, and Raphael could see the alarm on Angelique’s face as her nose twitched in response to the scents that were no doubt flowing off of him.

“Lock the original tape in Cat’s safe. It
must
stay in Colorado.” Raphael didn’t say a word. There was no arguing with Charles when he used that tone of voice.

BOOK: Howling Moon
4.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

White Teeth by Zadie Smith
Remember The Alamo by William W. Johnstone;J.A. Johnstone
The Brothers of Baker Street by Michael Robertson
GettingEven by April Vine
The God Machine by J. G. Sandom
Weremones by Buffi BeCraft-Woodall
Ballistics by Billy Collins
Into The Night by Cornell Woolrich