Black Water: A Jane Yellowrock Collection

“Fido’s people-friendly, won’t bite, and has the best nose in the business. He knows what and who we’re looking for, and because he has a human intelligence coupled with the nose of a hunting predator, and because it isn’t the full moon, he’s our best bet for success. Between the two canines, we hope to find the bad guys, call you to come take them in, and rescue the women.” I looked at the snipers and said, “And if you have standard ammo, not silver, nothing short of an elephant gun will kill him. And then you’ll have a fast-healing, pissed-off werewolf on your hands.”

 

 

“Stand down,” Nadine said to her men. To me she said, “Why? What do you get out of it? You think you’re responsible because you killed John-Roy Wayne’s werewolf sister, Victoria?” Nadine was brutally direct. I liked that in a woman.

 

“Not me. But yeah. My team. A job for which I have yet to be paid,” I added. Nadine responded with a frown, so I finished in a soft voice meant just for her and not the men behind her. “This is a freebie. Now, you gonna let my friends here sniff the stolen car you got cordoned off over there and let us get on the water, or are you just gonna stand here wasting my time?”

 

Nadine’s eyebrows shot up, she snorted, and she stepped away from the boat. “Let the trackers at the vehicle, y’all,” she called out. “Let’s see what the werewolf and PP can do.”

 

I released the canines from their seat belt harnesses and snapped on the leashes, made of strong, durable, nylon flex, and jumped from the bow to the hard-packed ground. The cops opened a wedge of space, like a gantlet, for us to pass through. The huge critters at my sides, we walked through the cops to the car. It was sitting at an angle across the faded parking lines, all four doors open. Inside, it was a mess, paper food wrappers, a stuffed animal that looked as if it had spent a year in a city dump, clothes, pillows, and blankets. My sense of smell was much better than a human’s, and I leaned in with the canines, pulling the air over my tongue with a scree of sound. The car smelled of fast food, fear, blood, and semen.

 

Fury lit in my gut, flashing through me like a wildfire. Sarge swiveled his head to me and growled at the stink and what it might mean. “Yeah,” I said softly to him. Since Crime Scene was finished with the vehicle, I crawled inside and followed my nose until I found the place where the stink came from. It was on the back of the front seat, and beside it was a smear of blood.

 

“Fido, smell this. See if the blood belongs to the same man.” Sarge wriggled up beside me, far closer than I really wanted the werewolf, and placed his nose near the blood. He gave two quick sniffs and backed away, a canine grin on his face. “She hurt him, didn’t she?”

 

Sarge chuffed and growled, dipping his head in agreement. The women had been hurt too, though, and the stink of fear and pain was strong in the car.

 

Louder, without turning my head, I said, “Somebody was beaten in the car. Fido can smell it.” Nadine cursed. I was aware that her men had gathered in a tight circle around us, but their comingled scent was less antagonistic than it had been.

 

“Was everyone alive when they left the car?” I asked Sarge. He nodded once. “Two women?” He nodded. “How many men?” He dipped his head twice. I looked around, wondering how the other guy got here.

 

“You got any more vehicles unaccounted for here?” I asked Nadine. “Because John-Roy Wayne probably already had male company when he took off.” Nadine cursed again and sent her men to check vehicle tags. I said softly, “You got the scent?” Sarge whuffed. “Let’s go, then. We’re gonna move real casual, back toward the boat, and soon as we get settled, we’re gonna blow outta here. We’re not gonna be slowed down by cops trying to keep up. We’re not waiting for them to get the SAR team ready and give out little radios and coordinate a plan. Understood?”

 

Sarge tilted his head at me and licked his chops.

 

***

 

Fifteen minutes later my cell buzzed in my pocket. We were far enough away that I couldn’t see the shore, and there had been no pursuit, so I killed the motor, leaving the airboat gliding across the water. I popped the cell and ignored the files on John-Roy, sent to me by Nadine, because I recognized the number from earlier. I said, “Ricky Bo. Yes. No. Yes. And I will.”

 

“What?” he asked, thoroughly confused, which was what I’d intended.

 

“Yes, I left your cousin on the shore with the slow, disorganized cops. No, I won’t go back. Yes, we have a scent. And I’ll be careful.”

 

There was a short silence on the other end and then Rick said, “Good. But you left one question unanswered. Where’d you get a werewolf to hunt with?”

 

“Yeah, that was the only curious part of the plan, wasn’t it? You do know that Leo had some weres prisoner once. And you do know that there are werewolf packs in the U.S. And you do know that some wolves are sane. I happened to find me one, and he was willing to help. He came to Chauvin, changed into his wolf, and let me leash him. Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.” I ended the call, scanned John-Roy’s criminal history file sent to me by Nadine, sent my partners a text, turned off the cell, and removed the battery.

 

“You still got the scent?” I asked Sarge. He nodded and faced in the direction he wanted me to go, nose into the wind. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

 

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