White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul (20 page)

“I disagree, bro. Let’s whiteboard what we know.” Drake grabbed a marker and started writing. “Boyd—collected insurance. No. That’s not the start. Dad’s accident brings Boyd back to Chabegawn.”

“I don’t see how Boyd could’ve arranged Dad’s accident. Melanie’s father was driving the car that plowed into Dad’s, and his blood alcohol was way over the limit.”

“And he was an alcoholic. Would Melanie know more about the accident?” Drake scrubbed the whiteboard clean.

Mike dragged both hands through his hair. “Probably. But I can’t question her about that right now. We’re in a way too fragile place.”

“For argument’s sake—and humor me now—I’m going to whiteboard anyone and any event that can possibly be related.”

“While you do that, I’m going to activate the cameras I planted.” Mike brought up the security system menu.

“Put on CNN first. The coroner was going to give an update around now.”

“Good idea.” Mike picked up a remote and clicked on the flat-screen hanging from an arm high on the wall behind his desk.

Drake jotted: Hank Dorland—accident; Boyd—takes over mill: Lucinda—committed; Boyd—becomes our guardian: mill fire—insurance/nine deaths; Kent White & Paul White—dead same day; Boyd—murder; refusal of sanctuary.

Mike swiveled his chair just as the distinctive logo of
CNN Headline News
filled the monitor.

“
Let’s head over to Gary Marshall, reporting from Chabegawn, where authorities are still scratching their heads as to this latest killing.
”

The screen image changed, and Fiesta Square came into view.

“
Gary Marshall reporting from Chabegawn, Michigan. The population of this small town is all abuzz about the latest development in the investigation of three gruesome murders. Arena Football League star Gray White has just been named a person of interest in Eddie Mato’s murder. No word as yet as to whether the local and popular Native American athlete is linked to the two other vicious murders, that of George Mato, and well-known racehorse breeder Augustus Balden
.”

“That fucking preening asshole Pincer.” Mike bounded out of the chair.

“Don’t go off half-cocked. Hang on. Let me activate the perimeter cameras at Melanie’s house.”

Drake hunkered over his keypad and switched reception from CNN to the cameras flanking the Whites’ house. He split the screen by camera.

“I installed one in each room in the house too. Activate those.”

“Those in the bedrooms aren’t working, but I have the one in the living room activated.” Mike moved to sit on Drake’s desk.

Melanie’s pale face came into view.

They were in the living/dining room. In the background, Mike spied a laid table and the remnants of what must have been supper. Susie and Melanie flanked their mother on a worn sofa backing the dining area. A tall lamp in the far corner attempted to lift the shadows from the room.

Dodge Pincer and Shuman, the tribe’s leader, sat on two rickety chairs on the other side of a weathered wooden coffee table. Two other men were present. Mike recognized one of them, their recently hired lawyer, Freddy Pawath. “Who’s the other guy?”

“Tom Smith. He’s a lawyer, and the new head of Wozaawishi Insurance Company. I met with him today.”

“Smith? Related to Charles Smith, the new mayor?”

“Dunno. I’ll check on it. Gray’s not there.”

Mike snatched his keys from the desk and grabbed his jacket.

“Wait. Let’s hear what Pincer has to say.” Drake grabbed Mike’s wrist. “Legally Shuman’s in charge.”

Mike shook off Drake’s hold on him. “Five minutes. That’s all I’ll give it.”

“I’m guessing that’s all we’ll need.” Drake amplified the volume, and the brothers stared at the screen.

The tribal leader, Shuman, leaned forward. “
Let me get this straight. You’ve named Gray White as a person of interest in Eddie Mato’s murder
.”

“
That’s correct. His fingerprints were found on the murder weapon
.”

“
Now that I find interesting
.” Freddy Pawath touched his fingertip to the dimple in his chin. “
Gray White’s never had a lick of trouble with the law. Why would you have his prints on file
?”

“
For safety precautions, all team members on all school travel teams in Mackinac County are fingerprinted. Gray White once played for Mackinac High
.” Sheriff Pincer didn’t bat an eyelid, his ready answer redolent of numerous PTA meetings, Mike guessed.

“
As of now, you believe that the same person who murdered Eddie also killed Augustus Balden
?” Freddy Pawath asked the question, his heavy-lidded eyes and quiet tone reverberating authority.

“
That’s the current theory. We won’t have proof until all the autopsy reports are in
.”

“
You’re obviously not a football fan, Sheriff. Because Gray White won the AFL game the night Augustus Balden died with a Hail Mary pass in the final thirty seconds. Whole town knows Augustus Balden was murdered round eight thirty. The boy’s a talented and fast runner, but last I heard, being in two distinct places separated by a good dozen miles at the same time hasn’t been ruled possible as yet
.” Freddy crossed his arms and sat back, a slight smile tugging at his thin lips.

Drake muttered, “If Gray’s an alpha, twelve miles is a piece of cake.”

“Quiet,” Mike ordered.

“
We still need an answer as to how Gray White’s fingerprints came to be on the murder weapon
.” Pincer leaned back and crossed his arms. “
You know as well as I do, Mr. Pawath, that we must question Gray White immediately
.”

Melanie rose, chin leveled, nostrils flaring. “
Before you accuse my brother of anything further, Sheriff Pincer, you should know I asked Eddie to do some repairs around the house. He and Gray worked with what little tools we have to repair the roof and fix the radiators. Perhaps that’s how his fingerprints got onto the murder weapon. What was the murder weapon, anyway
?”

“What the fuck’s she doing?” Mike barked.

“Protecting her brother, exactly the same as either of us would do. She was at the clinic when Eddie was murdered. Pincer can’t do a damn thing to her. Think with your brain, Mike, not your cock.”

The last thing Mike wanted to do was be logical, but he sat on the edge of the desk and waited, grinding his jaw.

“
Sit down, Melanie. Shuman, Freddy, Mr. Smith, thank you for your council. Sheriff, it seems to me that you do need to speak with my son to clear him of any involvement in these vicious crimes. Shuman, as our leader, I believe you need to inform the sheriff of exactly how my husband died
.”

Shuman lurched to his feet. “
This meeting is over. Sheriff Pincer, these two members of our council stand ready to escort you off the reservation. Our tribal lawyers need to be present when you question Gray White. My suggestion is a meeting at our headquarters at four tomorrow afternoon
.”

“Look at the sister. Susie—see how her knees almost buckled?” Drake pointed at the screen. “And she’s lost all color.”

“Fuck. Susie has something to hide. But there’s no way she’s capable of that kind of violence. It must be something to do with the mother or brother.”

“Agreed. It can’t be her mother, so it must be Gray. But if the killings are related and the MOs are all the same, then the football game will clear him. Those AFL games are carried on both local and national television.” Mike massaged his neck. “This is all too carefully staged. Who’s playing whom?”

“How did Melanie’s father die? Did you see Shuman’s face when her mother announced that little bomb?” Drake’s fingers got busy on the keyboard. “What month would that have been?”

“After the mill burned to the ground and before Boyd was murdered. I’m guessing late May.” Mike aligned the pen and pencil on the far side of the desk. “I just remembered something. Melanie’s father and grandfather came to the hospital after the car accident. Wanted to speak with Dad after he regained consciousness. Mom went hysterical. Boyd refused them entry. How’d that slip out of my memories until now?”

“It was years back, and we were all traumatized.” Drake rolled a shoulder and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The timing of everything’s peculiar, don’t you think? Boyd wasn’t around much when we were young, was he? Am I right on that?”

“Sort of. He showed up for the holidays. There’d been some quarrel between Dad, Boyd, and our grandfather. It had happened long ago. Maybe around when Dad and Boyd left for college.”

“No record of either Dad’s or Boyd’s birth certificates are in the county files.” Drake clicked his mouse a few times. “Of course, ours aren’t there either.”

“I imagine only recent info’s been computerized.”

“Wonder where all those records are now stored? I’ll check on it.” Drake’s got busy on the keyboard.

“I bet Mom would know about Dad and Boyd’s birth certificates.”

Mike studied Melanie’s wan face on the monitor as first Sheriff Pincer left and then Freddy and Shuman. Melanie’s mother went outside with the tribal leader and closed the door.

“
Where in hell was Gray that night, Susan Elizabeth White? Tell me right now
.” Melanie grabbed her sister’s wrist.

“Your mate has a temper. Funny how such a short little thing can make the tall sister look weak and helpless.” Drake turned up the volume.

“
Where. Was. He
?” Melanie growled.

Susie squeezed her eyes shut. “
He got a phone call from someone and said he had to go. I heard a female voice. He wouldn’t tell me who it was or where he was going. You’ll have to ask him yourself. Though I don’t think you should. He’s a grown man just like I’m a grown woman
.”

“
I most certainly will ask him
.”

“Looks like they’re at a standoff.” Drake adjusted the resolution on the screen. “Can’t say I’d like having your mate for a sister. She’s really got her brother pussy-whipped.”

“Shut up. I can’t hear them with you talking.”

“
Melanie, what did Mama mean? About Papa’s death? And what does Shuman know
?” Susie crossed her arms.

“
Don’t say a word. Don’t ask her a single question. I’ll talk to you about it later
.” Melanie pulled her sister to the window by the front door. “
Can you see what they’re doing
?”

Drake switched cameras, and the brothers caught a glimpse of Mrs. White and Shuman having a lowered conversation next to the tribal leader’s truck. “They’re too far away. I can’t pick up any sound.”

“I’m heading out there. I want to speak to Melanie.”

“I’m going to finish up that backgrounder on Pincer tonight.”

“Do that. I want to install some cameras and bugs in the tribe’s headquarters. Shuman’s hiding something.”

“Agreed. Their security is top-notch, bro. I haven’t been able to break through their firewall, and believe me, I’ve tried. Too bad we couldn’t persuade your mate’s mother to wear a wire. I’d love to hear what Shuman has to say about the past. You do realize his refusal of sanctuary came right after Melanie’s father and grandfather died. See, here’s the report of their deaths. That’s strange. Both are listed as from natural causes.” Drake brought up a copy of the
Spectator
’s obituaries. “And the signature on the report is one Dr. Longshorn. Hmm, the tribe’s doctor. Melanie’s grandfather was well into his sixties, but her dad had just turned forty-nine. Natural causes? Doesn’t ring true to me. Why would Mrs. White bring up how her husband died, and why would Shuman end the interview because of her remark? Nope. Something’s definitely fishy.”

“You may be right on target. They died on the same day. Boyd died less than a month later, and nine days after that Shuman shot us down figuratively.”

“Look at this. This is that week that he refused us sanctuary. I’ve checked the
Spectator
. There’s no mention of us disappearing. No one reported us missing. Why? The Dorland name is as well-known as the de Verteuils or the Laroques. Why wasn’t there a report?”

“Because I’d turned eighteen by then, and I got us out of town ASAP after Shuman refused us sanctuary. There was something about that meeting that made me decide we needed to be on the run pronto. It was the beginning of summer, and Virgil let it out that he’d sent us to summer camp.” Mike grabbed his keys. “I’m heading out to Melanie’s.”

“What we have here are too many fucking questions and not enough answers. I have a feeling sleep will be eluding me tonight.” Drake swung the chair around. “I’ll monitor the White’s house until you get there.”

“First I need to find out where they stashed Gray. Then I’m going to have a conversation with my mate.”

* * * *

Mike drove the pickup to the cabin and then ran to Melanie’s house. Just north of the White’s cottage, he caught a familiar scent and froze. Standing in a shadowed grove of birch trees, he listened. A slight scraping sound came from ahead, the noise a steady rhythm.

“Wondered how long it would take.”

The deep, gravel-laced male voice held no threat, no surprise. Mike followed his nose and came to a small clearing. A three-quarter moon illuminated Gray White straddling a large trunk. The boy had filled out since Mike last saw him eight years before. The pup had become a wolf. Large, broad shoulders worked as Gray idly carved a thick birch branch.

“Mike the Machine. I’ve been waiting for you.” The alpha met Mike’s gaze without blinking.

“And just how did you know I’d be coming?”

“You left your stamp all over my sister.” Gray stood. “You’d better be planning on putting a ring on her finger soon.”

“Or?” Mike folded his arms and met the wolf’s stare head-on. Gray stood a couple of inches shorter than Mike’s six-six height.

“You’ll be shooting blanks since you won’t have the balls left to produce anything else.” Gray pocketed the half-sculpted boat-shaped piece of wood and fingered the tip of his stiletto. “I dismantled all the cameras from the bedrooms.”

“Just the ones in the bedrooms?” Either Gray knew a ton about security devices, or he had a lucky streak Niagara Falls wide.

“By the way, the one next to that paint-by-number picture hanging on the wall?” Gray’s cocky stance, legs planted wide, and the half smirk he wore irritated Mike.