Moon Lovers Box Set (BBW Werewolf Romance) (6 page)

"How are you able to do that?" the other officer asked him.

"Weight-lifting," Garrison told them. "Now if you gentlemen would follow me."

All four of us slipped down into Garrison's basement abode and he set me down on a ragged couch in the far corner opposite the door. "Did you want anything to drink?" he asked us.

"I'll take a coffee," I spoke up. I wanted something stronger, but I needed to keep my few wits about me.

"How strong?"

"Strong enough to weight-lift me, but not smart enough to convince me not to drink it."

Garrison smiled and turned to the men, who declined any refreshments. He scooted off to the kitchen while the officers dragged chairs over to the couch. "Could you describe the guy who caught you in the alley?" Cranston asked me. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Garrison froze.

"I think so. He wasn't much taller than me and had a weaselly-looking face. You know, small eyes, narrow face, and breath that could stun a yak. I don't know what he had in that cigarette, but it must have been made from essence of roadkill."

"That sounds like Willy Servino," the other officer spoke up.

Officer Cranston solemnly nodded his head. "Yeah, it does."

"What's that mean? Is he somebody important?" I asked them.

"He's the investigator for the Green Bandanna Gang."

"And that means what?"

"If they have problems they send out Servino to find the answer any way he can," Cranston told me. That last part didn't sound good. "What did you tell him?"

"I-I just told him what I told you guys, that I didn't know anything about the guy who rescued me and I don't know what happened to the gang members."

"And did he believe you?"

"I don't think so. He just kept asking me what happened and what I knew about that guy who saved me. Then when he saw your car he ran down the alley. I don't know where he went after that."

"Did he say what he'd do to you if you didn't cooperate?" Cranston asked me.

"Not exactly, but I just needed to see his gun to know he wasn't going to hug me," I quipped.

Cranston looked both worried and annoyed. "You shouldn't have told him so much."

"I don't think I had a choice. It was either that or he was going to keep shaking me like a Magic Eight Ball that wasn't giving him the answer he wanted."

"Well, we'll search around to see if he's still hanging around the neighborhood," Cranston suggested. He and the other officer stood. "This shouldn't take more than an hour, but until we get back you should stay here."

"Gladly."

Chapter 7

The pair left and Garrison soon came over with my mug of coffee. I cradled the cup between my hands while he sat down in the chair vacated by Cranston with his own mug.

"That must have been a little frightening having that guy rough you up like that," he softly commented.

"It reminded me of a few high school bullies, though they just wanted to steal my lunch rather than my life. I kept hoping that guy who saved me would come do a repeat performance, but I guess he was off being Superman someplace else." I jumped when the mug in Garrison's hands suddenly shattered, spilling coffee all over him and the floor.

"I-I'm so sorry. I guess the mug had a crack in it," he quickly apologized. He hurried over to the kitchen sink and cleaned himself up.

"You're not hurt, are you?" I thought I'd seen a trail of red like blood seep from his hands.

"It's just a scratch."

"Uh-huh, and a cut-off arm is just a flesh wound. Let me see it."

"I learned my lesson the first time with your nursing skills," he playfully reminded me as he wrapped his securely hand in a thick cloth. He came back and plopped himself down beside me. "There is one thing that I don't get with you're talking with that pig man."

"Weasel," I corrected him.

"Weasel, then. How did he know he wanted to talk to you?"

"Because I'm the only witness," I reminded him.

Garrison shook his head. "How did he know he was supposed to be looking for a witness if his men are dead?"

I paused mid drink and thought about that. "I guess he must have got it from the police report. At least, he mentioned seeing it."

Garrison leaned back in his chair and frowned. "That's not good."

I glanced up from the rim of my mug. "What's not good?"

"There's not many ways someone can get their hands on a police report during an ongoing investigation."

"And what are those ways?"

"Theft."

"So you think he stole it?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"The other option. I think someone inside the station gave it to him."

My hands shook so bad I put down my mug before I dyed my clothes. "Somebody gave it to him? Why'd they want to do that?"

"The Green Bandanna gang has connections. When their guys didn't come back from the heist in the laundry room they came here first, saw there'd been trouble, and used that connection to find out what had happened-"

"-and found my name in the report," I finished for him.

"Precisely."

"So you tell the cops or me?"

"About what?"

"About your theory."

"I don't state it as a theory, I state it as a fact."

"Facts need proof."

"Would you take an eyewitness statement as proof?"

"Considering I'm an eyewitness and want people to believe me, I'd say yes."

"Then I'll say I saw this Servino man come here after the police left and search the room. He didn't like what he found, went back into the alley and called his boss, who relayed him orders to call the station to get that report."

"He searched the room. . ." I murmured. I snapped my fingers and pointed one at Garrison. "That explains the broken tape over the center window!"

He nodded. "Precisely, my dear Watson."

I folded my arms across my chest and frowned. "Why do I have to be Watson?" I huffed.

"Because I hold all the pieces to the puzzle," he pointed out.

"Shouldn't the police be holding all the pieces, too?" I argued. "You did tell them what you saw, didn't you?" His lips pursed together and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Garrison, you did tell them, right?"

Garrison shook his head. "No."

"Why the hell not?" I exclaimed.

"Haven't you been listening to what I've been trying to tell you?"

"That you're out of your mind to be keeping that kind of stuff from the police? Because that's what I'm hearing."

"That the police are connected to the gang, and to give them all the pieces would endanger you," he protested.

"Endanger me? Endanger me?" I slapped the mug on the couch cushion beside me and stood up. "I just got my life threatened by some weaselly little thug who turns out to be just the messenger boy of a gang that is real eager to find out what happened to their friends. How is this being safe?"

"You're not dead," he pointed out.

"No thanks to you!" Garrison's face drooped and he hung his head like a whipped puppy. I cringed at my cruel words, and set a hand on his shoulder. "I-I didn't mean it like that. It's not like you're supposed to be protecting me. I mean, you're just the manager of my apartment. You can't watch over everyone all the time. You'd probably get sued for stalking someone. Besides, I've got to look out for myself. I'm a big girl now. Well, always, but just, I don't know, just stuff." I sighed and flopped back down on the couch. "Did any of that babbling make sense?"

Garrison cracked a smile. "Some of it."

"Good. I'd hate to have to translate that into normal people tongue."

"I think I would understood it better in the abnormal people tongue."

I leaned toward him and gave the scrawny guy a good look. "Ya know, you fool a lot of people with your innocent looks."

"So do you."

"It's the fat. Everyone thinks fat people are jolly."

"You are very friendly."

"Be careful, I bite."

"That sounds kinky."

"Aren't we supposed to be talking about the gang who wants to put me in a pine box?" I pointed out.

"If we were focused, yes."

"Then let's get back to that, and your not telling the police everything you know."

"Ah, that. I don't think it would do you any good, and wonder if it wouldn't hurt you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hurt me how?" I asked him.

"Since someone at the station is passing information on to the Bandannas then if we tell the police they will know everything we know-"

"-and knowledge is power," I finished.

"Precisely."

"So what are we supposed to do with this knowledge? Take over the world?"

"Perhaps later, but for now we should focus on keeping you safe and out of that pine box."

"How are we going to do that? We're just a couple of kind-of-normal people. I don't even think we have a gun between us," I pointed out.

Garrison tapped the side of his head. "But we have these."

"Temples?"

"Brains, or rather brain."

"Hey!"

"Kidding. Just kidding."

"Well, Mr. Brain, what are we going to do about this mess?"

"We do nothing."

"That sounds like death. I don't like that."

"It smells like victory."

"No, it smells like death, too. I don't like that, either."

"Just hear me out." Garrison scooted his chair closer to me and lowered his voice to a whisper. "We need to see what intentions they have for you. No doubt they'll figure out you couldn't possibly have taken on those guys like that, and want to get at your rescuer."

"Maybe I did beat them up all by myself," I countered.

"And tore them limb from limb?" he argued. I imagined that scene and shuddered.

"Or maybe I didn't."

"Stick with the truth, it's easier to remember. Anyway, we need to wait for the gang to make their next move. They have your word and the police report stating you were rescued and don't know who your rescuer was, but they might think you're lying to protect him."

"That's a lot of guessing."

"I like guesswork, but we see how they're going to follow you, and we'll counter follow them. You follow my train of thought?"

"I don't even think we're on the same railroad system."

"If we follow them we can learn their patterns, take pictures, and show that proof to the police. They can nab the gang and free us both."

"Us? I'm the one being stalked," I reminded him.

The color drained from his face. "Well, when I get involved like this it'll be us. You and me, that is, because I'll be doing the counter following and when they find that out they're not going to be too happy about it."

I scrutinized his pale features. "Which leads me to ask why you're getting yourself into this much trouble. I don't want to be paddling in the shallow end in this turd-pool and here you are diving headlong into the deep end."

He leaned back and shrugged. "Maybe it's because I like you."

"Maybe it's because you have a death wish that will be express delivered by the Green Bandanna gang," I guessed.

"Or maybe it's because I like you."

"You already said that."

"You weren't listening the first time."

I sighed and stood so I could pace the room. This was getting complicated, and not just because I'd gone from normal office girl to marked girl overnight. I stopped in front of Garrison and put my hands on my hips. "I can't let you do it. I can't let you risk your neck for me."

He smiled. "And I can't let you get hurt. It's not in my nature."

"Didn't nature teach you about the survival instinct?" I countered as I waved my hand toward the laundry room. "Those guys don't care what damage they cause or who gets hurt.
You
could really get hurt, and I just don't want to blame myself for that."

"Then don't."

I blinked in bewilderment. "Don't what?"

"Don't blame yourself." He stood and clasped my hands in his. "I'm going with you of my own free will." I looked in his eyes and saw only determination.

"You're really stubborn, you know that?"

"Very much so, but feel free to remind me when I'm doing something really stupid."

"So every minute of every day?"

"I walked into that one, didn't I?"

"Practically strolled," I corrected him.

"Well, at the risk of sounding like a complete sap I'll stroll anywhere you're going."

"Yeah, that was sappy."

"Do girls have a monopoly on sappiness?"