Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series Two #5)

Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series Two #5) Page 15

Everything had seemed so much simpler back then.

Over the next few days I agonised over what I should do to help Pen. I thought about calling her, but I knew once I heard her voice, I wouldn’t be able to conceal my feelings and I would have to tell Pen that I knew. Therefore, I didn’t want to speak to her until I had formulated a plan. A plan that would reassure her and make her feel safe in the knowledge I knew what was going on, and a way to rescue her.

Almost every one of my waking hours and most of my dreams were spent going over and over different ways of helping Pen. I thought about telling my Inspector, but he would only want to know how I had become so close to a Lycanthrope. He would ask why I cared for Pen – a wolf – so much. He might suspect something that wasn’t really there – or perhaps it was?

Every time the phone rang, I leapt upon it, wondering if it was Annie with more news about Pen, as I hadn’t heard anything more from her since our last phone call.

Then on the fourth day after that call with Annie, I did receive some news. It didn’t come in the form of a phone call as I was expecting, but by letter. I’d discovered the envelope in the mailbox as I left home for work that morning. As I was climbing into my car, I pulled the envelope open to read the shortest letter I had ever received. It read: Pen’s gone missing!

Chapter Fifteen

Murphy

Whoever had written the note, I didn’t recognise their handwriting. It had been scribbled in black ink. As I turned it over and over in my hands and re-read those three frightening words, I realized that Annie had been true to her word and had contacted me as promised. I understood the reason why she wanted to do this anonymously, so she didn’t appear to be involved.

I contacted my work and lied to my Inspector. I told him my mother had taken a turn for the worse, and I had to go back into The Hollows to be with her. He gave me three days special leave. I threw some clothes into a bag and packed my cuffs and handgun. Before I left, I held Chloe tight and kissed her goodbye. I felt apprehensive, anxious, but most of all, scared for Pen.

I drove all day, stopping only briefly when I needed to fill the car up with petrol and top myself up with sweet black coffee. I reached Pen’s hometown just after dark and rented a room at the local hotel. Without even freshening up or stopping for food, I drove straight to Pen’s. I pulled up the short path and left the car parked next to an old truck that stood by the dense crop of trees which surrounded the side and rear of the house. I walked casually around the truck, which I had not seen before. I made my way up onto the porch and knocked on the door. After several moments, the door was slowly opened.

“Yep?” said the tall, stocky male who greeted me.

“I’d like to see Pen,” I said in a flat, dry tone.

“She’s not here.” The man eyed me suspiciously and stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut so I couldn’t see past him and into the house.

“I’ll wait then,” I said, moving towards the front door. The man stepped between me and the door, barring my entry.

“Who are ya?” he asked.

“I’m Jim Murphy, a friend of Pen’s. Who are you?” I asked, looking him up and down.

“I’m Steve, Marc’s brother.”

“The chef!” I said dryly.

Steve stood about six-foot-two with lank brown hair, it could have been blond but it was so greasy it was hard to tell. His two front teeth were missing and his tongue slid wetly between them as he spoke. He had about four days’ worth of beard covering his chin and his eyes were yellow and sore-looking, as if he had just got up after a night of heavy drinking.

“Look, what do ya want?” he questioned irritably as if he had a thousand better things he could be doing.

“I’ve told you, I want to see Pen,” I said.

“And I’ve told ya, she ain’t here!” he said, his wet tongue slipping between the gap in his front teeth.

“When will she back?” I persisted.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Look, go home. I reckon she’ll call ya when she can.” Steve then stepped back inside Pen’s home and briskly closed the door.

I stepped back off the porch and looked up at the windows for any sign of life. Maybe they had Pen held prisoner up there while they fleeced her and her business of any remaining cash. My imagination was running wild, stoked up by not knowing where Pen was or what had happened to her. Whatever was going on, I knew that Marc and his brother had something to do with it.

I went back to my car, and as I pulled away, I looked back at the house and caught Steve peering around the edge of the curtain at me.

I drove into town and pulled up outside ‘The Ooze Bar.’ I could see it was slowly building up with customers for the evening and I could hear the dull beat-beat of music seeping from within.

I stepped into the bar and immediately, as if she had been expecting me, Annie looked up from the customer she was serving and looked straight at me. I could see a look of relief slip across her face, but her eyes looked wide and scared. At the end of the bar I could see Marc. I moved towards him, and when I was only a few feet away, he looked up at me.

“Where’s Pen?” I asked him.

“She’s gone away,” he said right back.

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” Marc said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Look I haven’t come down here to be screwed around. Where’s Pen?” I demanded.

“Listen, you’re not on duty now. So don’t come down here throwing your weight around,”

he said, climbing off the barstool and standing like a wall in front of me. “Pen hasn’t been feeling well lately, so she’s taken a break, you know, gone away to relax.”

“She would’ve called me,” I said.

“Maybe she’s having so much fun she has forgotten,” Marc said slyly, an obnoxious grin spreading across his face.

“I doubt it,” I told him.

“Can’t poor Pen do anything without you?

What are you, her guardian angel?” he said in a deeply cutting tone.

I stepped closer towards him, narrowing the gap between us to mere inches. Then leaning in close so I couldn’t be heard by anyone other than him, I said, “Listen, you know and I know something’s not right here. You might have been able to intimidate Pen with the help of your brothers, but to me you’re nothing but werewolf shit.” I noticed just a slight flicker of light in his eyes.

“Why don’t you go home? When Pen puts in an appearance, I’m sure you’ll be the first to know,” he smiled.

“I’m not going anywhere ‘til I find out what’s happened to my friend,” I warned him, looking hard into his fiery eyes. I wanted him to be under no illusion that I wouldn’t go away until I had discovered what had happened to Pen.

“Please yourself,” he said, turning away and stepping behind the bar.

I watched him saunter away from me, and as he did, I noticed the door leading down to the basement. It was slightly ajar and I could only see darkness behind. I looked away, and as I did, I thought I saw movement in that opening. I looked back again but whatever it was had gone. I slowly walked towards the door and instinctively touched my gun that sat strapped to my side, hidden under my jacket. I put my arm out to push the door further open, when Marc was suddenly in front of me, blocking my view.

“That’s private down there. Staff only I’m afraid,” he said.

I ignored him and made a move towards the door leading down into the darkness. Within an instant, Marc had placed his arm across the doorway, barring my entry.

“Do you have a search warrant, officer?”

he asked smugly.

I stood exactly where I was for another moment, not taking my eyes off his. I then stepped away from him.

“I’m coming to get you!” I said smiling at him. “Just like all the other stinking wolves I’ve hunted down.”

Then, I turned my back on him and walked towards the exit. As I did, I snatched a sideways glance at Annie. Our eyes met momentarily and then we both looked away.

Chapter Sixteen

Murphy

I pulled into the car park of the local store and killed the engine. There was a phone box, so climbing from my car, I headed towards it. Taking some coins from my pocket, I called my Inspector.

I didn’t want to, but I needed some help. Like me, he was a Vampyrus and had dedicated his life to hunting down and bringing to justice those Lycanthrope who had given in to their curse. He would know I’d lied to him about needing to visit my sick mother, and he could kick me off the team for it, but what else could I do? I needed some help – advice – if I was going to help my friend.

I dropped the coins into the slot and punched my Inspector’s office number into the keypad. There was a clicking sound, followed by a dial tone.

“Inspector Rom, Special Ops Department,” the voice said down the phone. I could picture his bald head gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights in his office.

“Hello, sir,” I said, still not knowing exactly what I was going to say to him. “It’s Jim Murphy.”

“Murphy, what can I do for you?” he asked. “How’s your sick mother?”

“Huh, she’s okay,” I started. “Look, I was wondering if...”

“Spit it out, Constable,” Rom said sharply.

“I’m giving a briefing in a minute or two to the team.”

I took a deep breath, which Rom must have heard at the other end of the line as he said, “Are you in some kinda trouble, boy?”

“I guess,” I said.

“Oh, shit,” Rom groaned. “How deep?”

“It’s not really me, it’s a friend...” I started.

“A girl?” Rom sighed.

“Yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking,” I said. “It’s worse.”

“Is this girl married?” Rom barked.

“No...” I took another deep breath. “She’s a Lycanthrope.”