Chapter 17
Round two, Jake glumly thought as he pulled away from Alicia and held her hand so she didn’t look ready to collapse under pressure before Detective Hanover returned to her apartment to grill her further. When the detective and his partner returned to the interrogation, the other detective looked almost smug as he watched the proceeding. Alicia hadn’t had time to prepare what she’d say, nor had Jake had time to counsel her.
Tom and Peter attempted to look unconcerned, but Jake could tell both were worried. She’d been at a murder scene and hadn’t reported it. What was she going to say now? Jake was tempted to get one of their lawyers involved before this went any further, but the problem was that the murder had taken place in Denver. They needed a wolf lawyer there to defend her, if that’s what it took. But they didn’t know any werewolf packs in the city, since the packs usually avoided most bigger cities and stayed closer to home. Except for Sherry Slate. Jake didn’t figure she’d like it that he hadn’t been interested in her beyond a couple of dates but now he’d taken up with Alicia and wanted Sherry to defend her.
“So, Miss Greiston, do you want to tell me what happened on the night of July 15 when you visited Ferdinand Massaro at his condo?”
“He told me to meet him at his place. That he had information about where to locate Mario. He left the message underneath my hotel-room door. When I went to his place, no one answered the door. I rang the doorbell several times, but still no answer. I didn’t have his phone number, so I couldn’t give him a call. I figured he’d left. Or maybe I had the time or location wrong. Or he might have.”
“But you say he had left a message under your door. So you must have had the right information.”
“I thought so. But then I thought maybe I didn’t. I hadn’t brought the piece of paper with me.”
“Do you still have it?”
She shook her head. “I tossed it out.”
“So you left the place in the middle of the night and…?”
“Finally got a taxi and returned to where I’d parked my car. Then I drove to my hotel.”
“Why get a taxi to get to your car?”
“I was being cautious in case any of Mario’s men might be following me.”
“Hmm,” Detective Hanover said.
Jake knew she hadn’t parked her car and taken a taxi from there, not when Massaro had grabbed her at the other location, but he couldn’t tell if the detective knew that or not. He assumed the detective would make a note to check out the cab records to verify her claim and find nothing of the sort.
“And then?” The detective looked up from his note-taking.
“I moved from place to place, trying again to track down Constantino and Danny Massaro. When I finally found where they were, I notified the police and they picked them up.”
Detective Hanover studied her for a moment, then quietly said, “But they didn’t. Pick them up.”
Her mouth dropped open, then she snapped it shut.
“They’re free still?” Jake asked, rubbing her hand and having assumed that was the case.
“Yes. The police arrived too late. But if you’re a bounty hunter who’s supposed to be bringing them in, why turn their location over to the police?” Detective Hanover asked Alicia.
“I figured they were too dangerous for me to try and arrest.”
“Because you had witnessed Ferdinand Massaro’s murder.”
Jake could hear Alicia’s rapid heartbeat. He felt her clammy hand in his and knew she was trying to make the best of this situation. He wished he could get her the hell out of this nightmare legally, without causing further stress or trouble for her.
“Murdered?” she asked, her voice hollow, and despite knowing Ferdinand had been murdered already, she sounded convincing enough that she hadn’t already had a clue. “The… the night I went to see him?”
Genuine tears filled her eyes. Jake knew they weren’t faked. She must have been terrified to see what she had in the condo, further horrified that she could have ended up like Ferdinand.
“It fits you were there after he was murdered.”
Not before, good. Or maybe the detective was giving her an out to see if she’d let anything slip. If anyone had seen Ferdinand take Alicia into the condo after he’d knocked her out, wouldn’t they have reported it to the police? Maybe not, thinking she was dead drunk.
Hanover’s partner got a call and said into his phone, “This is Brumley. Yeah?” He looked up at Alicia. “All right. I’ll tell Hanover. Yeah, we’re still questioning her. Thanks.” He hung up his phone. “Want me to ask?” he questioned Hanover.
“Don’t tell me it’s about another shooting,” Hanover said dryly.
Brumley said, “Yeah, it is. Seems some hikers thought they’d heard a shot fired and then saw two men in suits coming off a hiking trail near Breckenridge, one with a bloodied trouser leg. The hikers said a woman was standing by a wreath of flowers near the trail.”
“For Missy Greiston,” Hanover guessed, looking directly at Alicia. “So who shot the man, Brumley?”
“My guess?” his partner asked.
“Take your best shot,” Hanover said, never taking his eyes off Alicia.
She remained ramrod stiff.
“Mario’s men came after her on the trail, and met up with Alicia Greiston when she was visiting the spot where her mother had died. Mario’s men threatened her. Miss Greiston defended herself. The men left but, in their usual fashion, didn’t report the gunshot wound. Because of that, there was no crime to report. No real witnessing of a crime. Only circumstantial evidence.”
“Gun casings? Bullet fragments?”
“None.”
“All right.” Detective Hanover slapped his hands on his thighs, rose from the chair, and said, “That about wraps it up. If you think you might have seen someone or something in connection with Ferdinand Massaro’s murder, you’ll let us know, won’t you, Miss Greiston?”
“Of course,” Alicia said softly.
Detective Hanover gave his head a little shake and followed Brumley out the door. Once it was locked, Alicia let out a shaky breath, then looked at Tom and Peter’s grave expressions.
“I didn’t witness any other shootings or killings. I swear it,” she said with a frown, her voice sharp.
They both chuckled darkly.
“Let’s go through my mother’s things, then we can pack up some of my stuff and go. I did want to keep my furniture, though.” She looked at the new couch and love seats she’d bought the previous year and that she’d saved hard-earned money to purchase. And she longed to sleep in her own bed, too.
“No problem. My grandparent’s place has old furniture that needs replacing. We’ll get a moving van and move your things there.” Jake said to Tom and Peter, “You can wait here and make sure no one comes that shouldn’t be here.”
“Want me to rent a moving van? Shouldn’t take anything very big to haul Alicia’s furniture and personal effects back to Silver Town,” Tom said.
Rising from the couch, Jake looked to Alicia for a decision. She nodded. She might as well get this over and done with. No sense in paying rent on a place when she wasn’t going to be living there. “I’ll have to give notice, and I’ll lose my deposit for not giving a month’s notice.”
“It won’t matter. I make enough money for the two of us.” He took her hand and helped her up from the couch.
She gave him an easy smile and looped her finger through one of his belt loops. “I should have asked that right away.”
“I didn’t realize that was the only thing holding you back from saying yes.”
She gave him an annoyed look and a tug on his belt loop as she headed for the stairs. “I don’t recall being asked anything that remotely required me to say yes.”
“Do you want me to call Darien and give him the heads-up concerning our progress?” Tom asked, cell phone in hand.
“Yeah, tell him we’re getting a moving van so it might take a little longer to return home. And you can let him know that we had the shooting incident here at her apartment and gave police statements again. Tell him there’s a little trouble about Alicia’s being sighted at the condo where Ferdinand Massaro died, in case we need to find a lawyer in Denver, and that we’re about ready to go through Alicia’s mother’s things.”
“Will do.”
A little trouble? Witnessing a murder was bound to get her into a whole lot more trouble. Why had she ever mentioned knowing Ferdinand Massaro?
When they reached the bedroom, Jake moved into the closet to pull out the boxes of stuff belonging to Alicia’s mother.
“Just dump the contents on the floor, and we’ll sort through them that way,” she said, her heart in her throat. She’d thrown everything in the boxes without really going through any of it, so she hadn’t a clue if any of it needed to be discarded or not. But smelling her mother’s perfume on her personal effects and seeing the jewelry and trinkets she’d collected since her mother had been a young woman was still hard for Alicia to deal with.
After searching through two of the boxes of knickknacks that Alicia decided she couldn’t part with, while she randomly wiped away her errant tears, Jake paused and asked, “Where do you keep your tissues?”
“Bedside table.”
He returned to her side with the box, crouched in front of her, and wiped away her tears himself. “Alicia, if this is too difficult for you…”
She shook her head. “I might see something that would mean something to me but that wouldn’t to you.” She smiled through her tears at him and swept her hand down his arm until she was holding his strong but gentle hand, and she squeezed lightly in thanks. “Thanks, Jake. Have I told you I love you?”
He gave her a quirky smile. “Not in so many words, but I knew it anyway.”
She gave him a watery smile, and he tilted her chin up and kissed her lips. But he quickly broke off the kiss, gave her a light hug, and then went back to searching through a sheaf of papers. She knew he wanted to get this over with, the sooner the better, and be on their way. She wished she could look through everything as clinically as he could.
She was leaning forward to move aside more papers when her hand brushed against something oddly familiar—a small, sturdy red envelope that was big enough only for a key. She recognized the bank key at once, and her heart began beating faster. She lifted the envelope, shook out the key, and held it up to show Jake. “My mother’s safe-deposit-box key.”
Jake paused from reading through various papers he’d found and looked up at her. “Where is the box?”
“A bank in Breckenridge. She… didn’t want to keep it in Dillon.”
“Why?” His dark brows were slightly furrowed.
“I don’t know. I never asked, and she never said.” Alicia had never given it much thought, but as intensely as Jake was looking at her, she suspected he thought the key could be vital to discovering clues.
“Do you know what it contains?” he asked.
“Personal papers, I guess. She had me sign the signature card so I could have access if I ever needed to. I never did, and I have no idea what she kept in it. I always thought it was kind of odd that she’d have it there instead of where she lived permanently. After her death, I didn’t give it any thought. She never had anything of real value. Just fake jewels that she kept with her at home. So I figured she kept her birth certificate, Grandmother’s death certificate, her social security card, stuff like that in there.”
Alicia tried not to sound as anxious as he was making her feel, but she wanted to check out the bank vault that day. She knew they wouldn’t have time. Not when they had to move all the furniture and her other household goods to Silver Town. The bank would be closed by the time they got to Breckenridge.
“We’ll have to check it out first thing tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes, of course.” She’d known that the minute she discovered the key in her mother’s possessions. She tucked the key into her jeans pocket and then spied another key. This one looked like a house key, she thought. She sniffed it and frowned. “This wasn’t my mother’s. It smells faintly of cologne. The same smell I got a whiff of in Ferdinand’s apartment when one of Mario’s henchmen came looking for me. Danny Massaro.”
“You’re sure?” Jake asked, taking the key from her. He gave it a good whiff, memorizing the smell of it.
“Yes. Would a wolf’s nose lie?”
He squeezed her hand. “No. So it’s Danny’s key. Why would your mother have it?”
“I don’t know. What if Tony had stolen it and given it to Mom to keep hidden in her stuff? Maybe it’s Danny’s house key, and Tony was trying to get some goods on the guy or something.”
“Hmm,” Jake said noncommittally, still looking through more of the stuff on the floor. “I don’t see anything in these boxes.” He looked up at her. “Do you?”
She shook her head.
“All right. Well, I’ll put everything away if you want to take your clothes out of the drawers and pack up your items in the bathroom.”
“Okay,” she said, and looked around at her apartment. She had truly thought she’d return to it someday. She never had expected to be a werewolf mated to another and leaving her apartment to live with him in another town.
She was still sitting on the floor when she noticed Jake wasn’t putting things back into the boxes any longer. She turned to see what he was doing. He was watching her. “Are you all right, Alicia?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ll need some boxes for my clothes, though.”
Before she could stand, he pulled her to her feet, and then he gave her a warm hug. “I plan to settle into my grandfather’s house tonight. Darien might say no, but if we can get a bodyguard detail together, that’s where I’d like to be with you tonight. In our own place.”
“I’d like that.” Although she didn’t have a clue what his place looked like. What if she didn’t like it?
She’d love it, she decided. If Jake was with her and she could help him decorate, she’d love it. “Are your photographs hanging on the walls?” she asked as she headed for her chest of drawers.
“No. I’ll leave the walls for you to decorate to your heart’s content.” He continued to reverently put her mother’s things back in the boxes.
“I want that photograph of the fuchsia flowers at the gallery, unless you have another like that. Oh.” She put an armload of sweaters on the bed. “What about my car? Your photograph of the wood lilies is in the car.”
“You can have any photograph you want, Alicia. You didn’t need to buy any of them.” He chuckled. “You might be my only buyer.” Then he grew serious. “But your car will have been towed to a service station in Breckenridge. The window will be replaced and everything will be set right.”
“Good. I would have hated to lose that picture.”
He was so quiet that Alicia looked over from unloading another drawer of her underwear. He was reading a note.
“Anything important?”
“An address.” He looked up at her. “Danny Massaro’s address.”
“So my mother had Danny’s key and”—she read the address—“an address I don’t recognize.”
“The key could be to any place. But it really wouldn’t matter. I have lock picks, remember?”
***
Four hours later, they were finished unloading the furniture at Jake’s grandfather’s place, a spacious brick ranch-style home. Alicia wandered around the three-bedroom house, finally standing in the living room and turning to look at Jake as she watched men she hadn’t met help settle her furniture in the place. The same men had already moved out his grandfather’s old furniture and even cleaned up the house. Jake said he and Tom and some others had worked on renovating the place for months in preparation for moving in. She was already really warming up to being part of a pack.
“Is the house to your liking?” he asked, studying her response.
She smiled. “It’s lovely, Jake. All the beautiful stained-wood trim, the moldings, the rustic stone fireplace. I can’t wait for winter to come when we can sit before the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate and watching the flames flicker.” She looked out the expansive window at the forest surrounding them.
“All my life I’ve lived on top of people, crunched up beside people in apartments. Heard all the noise of neighbors walking on my ceiling or banging against walls when hanging pictures or moving furniture. Or hearing angry words when fights occurred. I love it here, the peace and quiet, the wide open space, yet the surrounding forest makes it comforting.”
He joined her and wrapped his arms around her. “You don’t feel isolated out here? Scared? Frightened of the woods? You’ve lived all your life in town. You won’t feel you’ve been dumped in the wilderness, will you?”
She nestled against his body. “No. I love it here. I used to love going on nature walks with my mother, wishing I had been a pioneer and could have lived out away from people.”
“Truthfully in a pack, we’re never very isolated. We might have our own homes or apartments, but we’re never really alone.”
“I can see that,” she said, smiling up at him as she listened to the men moving the master-bedroom furniture around as Tom directed the placement of the dresser.
“Lelandi wants us to come home for dinner. If that’s all right with you.”
“Of course.”
“But…” He leaned down and slanted his mouth over hers and then, with an openmouthed kiss, stroked her lips with his. When she parted her lips for him, he tongued hers. Their hearts were already beating faster, his body hardening, her nipples spearing him. “…we’ll set things up a bit before we return to their house.”
She knew what he had in mind. “Will it be safe?”
Already his eyes had darkened with desire. “Guards will be posted outside the house. You’ll be safe. I’ll just talk to them. If you want to”—he waved at the hallway that led to the bedroom—“start making the bed. I’ll help you finish up in a minute.”
The only thing bad about being with a pack was the knowledge they all knew exactly what she and Jake would be doing as soon as he cleared the house out. As soon as the men finished with the bedroom, she slipped into the room and dug around in a box, then found a set of fresh sheets as she listened to hear what Jake was telling the men. Not a word. Just a shuffling of boots, and the front door opened and everyone marched outside.
A few minutes later, Jake was stalking into the bedroom. “I set a detail around the house. We’ll be safe enough.”
“They don’t mind?” she asked, searching for the pillows.
“No, of course not. We’d all do the same for each other. Why did you have such a big bed when you’re such a little thing?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I’m a kangaroo in bed. You’ll probably decide to sleep in one of the other bedrooms once we furnish them. Or on the couch.”
With only the bottom sheet on the bed, he maneuvered her over to the mattress and began pulling up her shirt. “The couch.”
“Yes, in case I fight you too much at night.”
His fingers pushed through her hair, and he cupped her head as he leaned down to kiss her mouth. “You won’t move an inch when we’re together, and we won’t need but half that bed to sleep on.”
A promise was a promise, and making love with Jake was only the beginning of fulfilling that promise. No matter how tender or rough or rushed or slow and measured his moves were, he was the perfect lover.
The bedroom was cluttered with packing boxes and the newly painted walls were bare. The bed had no other coverings but the one fitted bottom sheet—silky cotton, no pillows, just she and Jake and their bared bodies as he pulled off her clothes and then his. She loved the way he wanted her, as if he couldn’t get enough of being with her. That she was beautiful and desirable, and she prayed he’d always feel that way about her. As she prayed she’d always feel that way about him.
He took his time pleasuring her, stroking her, making her wet and aching with need, only stopping to suckle a breast or kiss her mouth or slip his tongue between her parted lips, stirring her desire to have him deep inside her, thrusting and taking pleasure in her.
She slid her hands over his hard muscles, loving the feel of his smooth skin, the rough hair on his chest, his puckered, aroused nipples, his rigid sex rubbing against her in urgent desperation.
She wanted him. Needed him. Craved him.
He kissed her throat, trailing a hot, wet tongue down her breast, stopping briefly to lick her nipple, then down to her navel. He kissed and licked her there, sending her senses reeling in a whirling pool of desire. Her fingers combed through his thick hair, her body arching as the ache between her legs intensified.
And then he was stroking her most intimate spot, wringing her senses in the most erotic way. She fought crying out as her heated body rose, the wave building pleasure higher and higher. Like the rising crescendo from a well-orchestrated piece of heaven, she felt uplifted until the climax hit, pulsing through her and staggering in its pleasurable sensation. He was in her before she barely had begun to sink into that dreamy state of complete satisfaction, thrusting, massaging her breasts with loving tenderness, and kissing her lips with sizzling passion.
God, he was beautiful. She hadn’t believed women could have orgasms. Jake proved she was wrong. Over and over again. Just his tongue simulating sex, the way he thrust it into her mouth, could give her a near orgasm. His body rubbing hers, his finger stroking her, his mouth teasing her nipples into submission. The way he moved into her brought her again to that higher plane of existence—to that other world of blissful sexual fulfillment.
And when he came, she felt the trembling sweet exhilaration in joining with him again.
“Hmm, Alicia,” Jake mouthed against her breast and then licked a nipple, lifting his head to study her with a contented smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, I’ll call Darien and Lelandi and tell them we won’t be going over there for dinner tonight.”
Alicia smiled and caressed his whiskery chin. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“But,” he said, running his hand over her belly in a loving way. “It doesn’t mean you’ll go without supper.”
Supper consisted of homemade beef stroganoff and a glass of milk. And Alicia realized what a bargain she’d gotten in Jake when she’d mated with a wolf who could cook gourmet-style meals. Then it was back to bed, and sleep would come next as Jake fulfilled the first of his promises. They’d only use half the bed as he tucked her into his arms and held on tight, and he wasn’t sleeping on any couch, ever.
***
Early the next morning, they left for Breckenridge to check out her mother’s safe-deposit box. Alicia hadn’t thought they would need all that much firepower, but Darien wasn’t taking any chances and several of the men in his pack had volunteered.
Darien was staying close to Lelandi at home in case she had the triplets early, but Jake and his brother, Tom, accompanied Alicia, along with Peter and a half dozen other men from the pack.
At least she felt safe. She was nervous about what might be in her mother’s safe-deposit box, though. As she rode up to the bank in a black Suburban, with another leading the way, she felt like she was a member of an FBI team on a SWAT mission. That was much different from driving around in her little red Neon when she was about to serve a warrant.
Going to the bank should have been a private affair, with Jake at her side and her bodyguard force tagging along. But after all the incidents in the past—her mother’s murder, the shooting on the trail, her own planned disappearance, and her false-pregnancy faux-fainting episode at the art gallery, she feared that Detective Hanover’s father, the chief of police of Breckenridge, might get wind of her reappearance and send a patrolman to question her. What if the word had gone out to be on the lookout for her?
That’s the way she felt as she entered the bank. The three tellers turned to look at her, smiles disappearing to be replaced by looks of surprise. And two of the loan officers’ expressions mirrored theirs. But then again, maybe it was because of the handsome men Alicia had accompanying her. Not often did one enter a bank with an entourage of wolfish-looking guys.
In that instant, Alicia felt incredibly lucky. The other men made sure she was safe inside, then headed back outside to guard the entrance. Jake stuck by her side, while Tom and Peter stood by the door watching them.
She hoped that from the concerned looks on the staff’s faces, they didn’t think she and the men intended to rob the bank. She and Jake approached the woman in charge of the vault. The woman led the way, then unlocked and pulled the safe-deposit box out for them. After asking Alicia to sign the register, she left them alone.
Alicia lifted the lid of the steel box with trepidation, while Jake looked on as if she were opening a treasure box or a booby-trapped mine. On top of a stack of papers was her mother’s lease agreement to her apartment, but off to one corner, a ring glittered, catching Alicia’s eye. She pulled it out from under the papers and stared at the carat diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds. Had her father given this to her mother? If he’d cared enough to give her this nice of a ring, why had he left her?
Jake watched but didn’t say anything.
She moved aside more papers and found a little black book. Inside were tons of dates and figures and initials, but none of it made any sense.
“Looks like some kind of code,” Jake said.
“But what would my mother be doing with something like this?”
“Maybe it wasn’t hers.”
Alicia looked up at Jake. “Tony’s?”
“Might have been his.”
Alicia glanced back at the ring, wondering about her father, wondering if what her mother had told her had really been true. She opened an official-looking envelope. Inside was her mother’s birth certificate. She slipped it back in the envelope and opened another. Alicia’s birth certificate. She wasn’t going to look at it closely, figuring it was a copy of the one she had at home, until her hand brushed over the embossed seal.
She opened it, wondering why her mother would have had two original embossed copies, and scanned the information. Birth date, time of birth, Alicia’s name, her mother’s… all correct. But when she looked at the father’s name—Antonio Frasero, she realized it wasn’t a name she’d ever seen before. She felt incredibly light-headed all at once.
“Is something wrong?” Jake asked, seeing her distress.
“This isn’t my birth certificate.” She ran her finger over the embossed seal. “Either that, or the one I had at my apartment was forged.”
“Let’s take it with us, and we’ll check it out. What’s different about it?”
“My father’s name.”
Jake looked troubled. “What do you know about your father?”
“Nothing. Just that he left us when I was two. No reason. Just left. That’s what my mother always told me. When I asked her, she didn’t want to talk about him. She would just wave away my question, but she’d become teary eyed, and no matter how long it had been, I could tell she still loved him.”
“But to your knowledge, he never returned?”
She stared at Jake, then closed her gaping mouth and shook her head. She sifted through more of the papers. Nothing. She’d half-expected to find divorce papers, a custody agreement for visitation rights, parental financial support, sole support, something, but no sign of…
She paused when she unfolded the last document and quit breathing.
Her mother’s marriage certificate to one Antonio Frasero.
The same name on Alicia’s birth certificate in the safe-deposit box. Antonio… Tony? The man who’d been her mother’s lover? And subsequently had been murdered near Continental Falls by Danny Massaro? Had Tony been her father? But he had to have had an alias then. Tony Thomas. Not Antonio Frasero. And he’d been murdered. Like her mother.
***
“Alicia!” Jake called as her face turned as white as the tile floor, and she crumpled in his arms. If he hadn’t seen the stricken look on her face, he probably wouldn’t have caught her in time.
Hearing his shout, the bank clerk hurried into the cage, along with Tom and Peter. “What’s wrong with her?” the bank clerk asked horrified.
“Overcome with grief,” Jake said, not knowing what else to say.
“Oh, of course.” The clerk’s cheeks grew pink with embarrassment.
“Alicia,” Jake said, “honey…”
That’s when a police officer poked his head into the room. “Can I help… what’s going on?”
“She fainted,” Jake said, exasperated that everyone was crowding him in the small bank vault.
“She’s pregnant,” the police officer said, nodding. “That’s what the 9-1-1 call was about from Cliffside Art Gallery. The chief is on his way. Does she need medical assistance?”
“The chief?” Jake asked. What the hell was that all about?
“Yes, the police chief. He’s been wanting to ask the young lady some questions.”
“Bring her to our staff lounge, if you would, sir. We have a couch she can lie down on until she feels better,” the clerk said.
“What’s wrong?” Tom asked for Jake’s ears only.
“She’ll be all right,” Jake assured him, not wanting to discuss what was the matter in front of all the others.
But Tom looked as though he didn’t believe Alicia would be all right. And Jake wasn’t sure he believed it, either. Now he wondered if she had actually fainted in the restroom at the art gallery and had only said she’d turned into the wolf.
“Is she pregnant?” Tom asked quietly.
“I think she had some disturbing news.” Jake gave Tom a quelling look as the police officer followed them into the lounge, talking to someone on his phone. Jake didn’t want any of this to become common knowledge until they could sort out the details.
“Yeah, she’s at the bank, just like Suzie said she was. But she’s fainted again,” the police officer said.
Jake lay Alicia down on the couch as she stirred and opened her eyes, her lips parting in surprise. Not only were Jake and his brother and Peter watching her as Jake crouched next to her, pushing her hair from her face, but three clerks, the police officer, and a couple of suited men also were hovering nearby.
Jake squeezed her hand. “Let’s get you home.”
Forget the over-the-counter pregnancy test. As soon as they returned to Silver Town, he was having Doc Weber examine her in the event she was pregnant and that could be what had affected her. He wanted to make sure she was truly all right.
The police chief strode into the room, brows raised to see Alicia sitting up on the sofa, despite Jake wanting her to lie still longer. “I’m fine. Really,” she said, her eyes growing big as she looked beyond him at the police chief and police officer in attendance.
But she didn’t look like she was fine at all. Her face was still deathly pale.
“The Denver police want to speak with you, Miss Greiston,” the police chief said, as he drew closer and peered down at her through silver-rimmed glasses. He looked similar to his son, Detective Hanover, who had questioned her the day before at her apartment, but he was about sixty, with graying hair, and had an aged appearance that made him appear like a kindly grandfather type. At least toward Alicia.
Jake suspected the chief’s demeanor had to do with his worry that Alicia was pregnant and was sick because of it. Chief Hanover looked like he could be as tough as granite if he wanted to be.
“The police,” she parroted wearily.
At this rate, she was going to be talking to police all over the state of Colorado.
“Yes, Miss Greiston. My son told me you were at the scene of Ferdinand Massaro’s murder. The Denver police will want the details. But I have a couple of questions for you also. Since you’re looking a little peaked, if you don’t mind, I’ll just ask you here. If everyone will clear out.” He directed the comment to the bank staff.
The men and women agreeably and quickly filed out of the staff lounge.
The chief glanced at Tom and Peter, but Alicia said, “I’d prefer to have Jake and his brother, Tom, and Peter, our sheriff at Silver Town, stay, if it’s all right with you.”
“Certainly.” The chief sat down in a chair and said, “My son tells me he talked to you about the shooting at Spruce Creek Trail. Can you tell me what happened exactly?”
“I really don’t have anything else to say. I left a wreath of flowers for my mother like I do once a week. I assumed the two men who approached me were Mario’s men, and they asked me to go with them. I refused. Then they left.”
“They left,” the chief said, “after you shot one of the men.”
She said nothing, her jaw and fingers clenching, but waited for him to speak further.
He cleared his throat and continued. “Witnesses said they heard gunfire and saw one of the men with a bloody leg limping back to his car, cursing up a storm.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute, and Jake was glad she didn’t offer any other explanation for what might have occurred. Finally she said, “Did the man seek medical attention?”
“No, not that we could learn of. But if they were who we think they were, they would have seen someone who would doctor him without reporting the shooting incident to the police.”
She didn’t say anything further, but her unspoken expression said volumes as she lifted her eyebrows slightly in a way that meant the chief could prove nothing.
“We’re on your side in this,” the chief finally said, sounding resigned. “If I could put Mario away for life, I’d do it. But I don’t want you getting yourself killed in the process, young lady. Nor do I want you to get into trouble for doing something illegal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor as if he were trying to decide whether to say anything further, but he hesitated.
He finally let out his breath, fixed her with his gaze, and said, “I shouldn’t be saying this, but the police in Denver have evidence you were in Massaro’s apartment. Just a heads-up, when you speak with them.”
Her lower lip dropped, then she quickly clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard.
Hell.
“What evidence?” she finally asked, sounding more timid than Jake liked to hear.
“Your driver’s license was found inside Massaro’s apartment.”
Her lips parted.
Jake stifled a curse. He was dying to know where they had found her driver’s license. He wondered if Detective Hanover, the chief’s son, had known this when he had asked her for her driver’s license, testing her to see if she knew it was missing. If so, what had he concluded? She wasn’t guilty of a crime? Massaro had stolen it from her? Or she’d left it there by accident when she was fleeing the crime scene?
But then Jake was certain the detective would have been asking himself why Massaro would have taken her driver’s license and nothing else. However, just because her driver’s license was found in the condo, that didn’t confirm she’d been there. He could have stolen it. Although why that and nothing else?
“When did he get it from you, Miss Greiston?” the chief asked.
So that was the crux of the matter. If she hadn’t actually seen him, hadn’t been able to enter the condo to speak with him because he was already dead, how did he manage to get hold of her driver’s license?
“Where did the police find it?” she asked, her voice dry.
The chief tapped one boot on the tile floor. “The Denver police wouldn’t say.”
“If you’re done with Alicia…” Jake let his words trail off, not wanting her to be subjected to any more of an interrogation when the chief had no business asking her questions concerning the crime scene in Denver.
The chief straightened a bit and looked sympathetic. “They found blood on the sheets, Miss Greiston. And in a couple of other unspecified locations. I’m sure the Denver police will want to take a sample of your blood. Did he hurt you?”
Alicia had to have bled when the bastard Massaro bit her, Jake suspected. Hell. The only good thing in the whole matter was that forensics couldn’t determine her werewolf changes. But poor Alicia. Her face took on a whole new shade of white.
“Do you mind?” Jake asked the chief, as he leaned in to help Alicia up from the couch. “We’ll be headed back to Silver Town. If you have any further questions…”
“They found your fingerprints on the inside front doorknob, so they know you’d been in the condo,” the chief said to Alicia and added with a nod to Jake, “My son gave me the information of where she’ll be staying. Thanks. And good luck, Miss Greiston. We want to solve your mother’s murder as quickly as you do. Let us know if you learn anything further, won’t you?”
She halfheartedly nodded.
“Good. Then we’ll be seeing you.”
Jake wrapped his arm around Alicia’s waist and helped her out of the bank and to the vehicle while Tom and Peter followed, and their guard detail reloaded into the SUVs.
“Drive, will you, Tom?” Jake asked, his voice terse as he pondered what they were going to do about the Denver police.