CHAPTER Nine
At this time of day, I knew I could expect to find Nick at the police station, probably filling out paperwork from that day’s dealings with the crime underworld of Trevathorn. However, it was past five and I also knew that Perkins would be closing soon. I debated whether to visit the hardware store, or Nick, first. Remembering the glint in Nick’s eyes when I saw him last, I decided that I would try the store first. Then I might be able to avoid talking to him altogether.
The village was busy at this time of day, with both locals and tourists bustling around. Most of them gave me a wide berth when they saw me striding towards them though. I guess my expression contained enough thunderous determination that they figured it was better to just get out of my way. It suited me fine. Tourists were irksome at the best of times, and I was not exactly in the mood for small talk with any of Trevathorn’s inhabitants. My bloodfire was glowing in the pit of my stomach as I was forced to consider the idea that John had been deliberately targeted. Perhaps the wichtlein pebble wasn’t so much a harbinger as a marker beacon, pointing him out to whichever big bad nasty had decided to chomp on him as a snack. The heat curled savagely around my lower intestines, threatening to take over at a moment’s notice. I ignored it. This was a time to focus, as John would have said.
By the time I reached Perkins, it was almost half past five and I could see the eponymous owner, Perkins himself, up at the glass door and flipping the little yellow sign from Open to Closed. Good. That meant I’d have peace and quiet to quiz him. I stepped up to the glass plate and rapped sharply. He gestured at the sign and his watch, shrugging expressively. I ignored this and rapped again.
He opened the door a couple of inches and poked his head out. “We’re shut.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“And I need to go home and see my wife and kids.” He tried shutting the door but I stuck my foot in the way.
“Please, Mr Perkins. It’s important.”
He sighed and appeared to consider the matter. It was not as if I was really going to give him the choice though. “Fine. But only for five minutes.” He opened the door and let me in, then locked it behind me.
Perkins stood in the entrance, hand on his hips, and waggled his eyebrows questioningly. He was a small man, human of course, with a bald patch and slightly greying hair. He wore a red apron that proclaimed the words ‘We’re proud to work at Perkins!’
I opened my palms out, in a gesture of non-confrontation. “Can we sit down? I’d like to ask you a few questions about the robbery a few days ago.”
He sighed expansively. “Why? Has the cult decided to become vigilantes now?”
At least he wasn’t accusing us of breaking and entering. “No, but I think there might have been other similar break-ins in the area and I want to help out.” I put on a pretty smile. “Please, Mr Perkins? I really do want to help.”
He looked at me assessingly but I could see that he’d already given in. “It’s probably more than the police are going to do, I suppose,” he grumbled. “Here, come this way.”
He took me into a little backroom where there was a small table and a couple of chairs. Along one side of the wall there was a sink, a little fridge and a kettle. “I suppose you’ll be wanting tea, too?”
“How about coffee?” I asked, pushing my luck.
“Fine,” he muttered, and set about getting two cups, flicking the switch on the kettle to on. Before too long, it was spitting steam so he poured the hot water onto a scoop of instant granules. I was a bit of a coffee purist and usually hated instant but I didn’t think any further comments regarding his choice of brew would be useful at this point. I declined milk and sugar and he passed me the cup, sitting down at the table with me.
“So what exactly is it you want to know?”
I asked him how they got in.
“Broke the glass at the back.” He pointed to a boarded up window behind me. “Figured it must have been kids ‘cos it’s so small.”
I nodded briefly, thinking that it could have been any thing of any size that could shift its shape to suit itself.
“Was anything other than the coal and the screwdriver taken?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “Darn’dest thing as well, considering the till was right there. I’d not bothered emptying it that day because there wasn’t much money in there, other than the float and a few odds and ends, but they didn’t even try to open it.” He shrugged and took a sip.
I mulled that over. “Were there any traces of anything else? Anything at all?”
He took his time answering. “Only the slime.”
“The slime?” My life would have been a lot easier if Nick had mentioned slime when I’d talked to him before.
“Aye, smelly dark stuff. It was smeared along the shelf where the coals had been. There were a few drops of it on the floor too.”
“I don’t suppose you kept any of it?” I asked hopefully.
He looked at me like I was crazy. I supposed I probably was. “No,” he answered slowly. “That police bloke, Nick whatsisface Jones, took some. Said he’d send it away for testing or something. I don’t expect he really will, though.”
Perkins’ faith in the ineptitude of the police force was clearly unshakeable.
“He took the CCTV video as well.”
I sat up. CCTV? That was interesting. And helpful. Although it did mean I’d now have to go and see Nick after all. I gulped down the rest of my coffee. “Mr Perkins, thank you so much for your time.” I stuck out my hand and he took it.
“You’re welcome. You culty people might be odd but at least you’re polite.”
I smiled at him slightly. “If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”
“It’s hardly even worth me filing the insurance claim, girl, so I don’t really know why you’re bothering.”
“It’s the principle of the matter, Mr Perkins. We cannot allow incidents of this nature to take root in Trevathorn. It’s a slippery slope, this kind of thing you know.” God help me, now I was starting to sound like Julia. It worked though, because he grinned warmly at me before showing me out the front door and locking it firmly behind me again.
It was barely a hop, skip and a jump to the police station so I wandered over without any further delay. I could handle one horny copper. Once, inside I asked the duty sergeant to let me through to speak to Nick. He wasn’t overly thrilled about it but called him up on the intercom to check first and then buzzed me through.
“Mack!” Nick stretched out his arms to greet me. “To what do I owe this wonderful pleasure?”
“I need a favour, Nick.”
He shot me a sly smile. “For you, anything.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’d like to see the CCTV you took from Perkins, and any report you managed to get from the lab about the slime.”
His smile disappeared. “What do you want that for?”
“Trying to keep the streets of Trevathorn safe, Nick.” I commented lightly.
He looked me for a long time, trying to judge how serious I was being. Eventually he spoke up. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know.”
I nodded, serious, but hopeful.
“The slime is still with the lab. How did you know about that anyway?”
I just shrugged and smiled demurely.
“Fine, whatever, don’t tell me. And if the sarge finds out I showed you the CCTV, I could lose my job.”
“Nick, I…”
He interrupted me. “Now, hold on. I didn’t say no yet, did I? I’ll show you it if you do something for me first.”
“What do you want?”
“Have dinner with me. Tonight.” There was a gleam in his eyes that slightly unnerved me.
“Nick, I’m sorry, but I’m just so busy at the moment…” I tried batting my eyelashes as Betsy had done at Corrigan at lunch although I had the distinct feeling that I looked like a fly had just flown into my eyeball instead.
“That’s my price,” he answered, and looked at me hopefully.
F*ck it. “Fine. I’ll have dinner with you. But not tonight – can we make it next week, instead?”
“Okay, dinner next week but a drink in the Bull tonight after we’re done,” he countered.
I knew I wasn’t going to win this one. “Okay. You’re on.”
“Come with me, then.”
I followed him down the corridor into a small room that was already set up with an ancient TV monitor and DVD player. He gestured to a chair and I sat down. He sat next to me, stretching an arm behind the back of my chair, and clicked on the remote. The screen flickered to life and I could see the shop front of Perkins, the camera angled down to cover most of the shelves and the till.
“Around 2.30am, this happened,” said Nick in a slightly bored voice.
A huge shadow loomed over the shop floor. It seemed to twist one way, then another. All of a sudden, the picture flicked to white snow.
“What? Bring it back!”
“That’s all there is,” he said with smug look on the face.
“You tricked me!” I thumped him on his arm.
“I did nothing of the sort. You asked to see the CCTV footage and I showed you the CCTV footage.” He grinned at me.
“Oh, for f*ck’s sake,” I muttered.
He looked down at his watch. “And would you look at that? It appears my shift is over, and you owe me a drink.”
I rolled my eyes at him, irritated. “Fine, let’s go.”
“Ever the gracious lady, Mack.” He took me by the arm. I grimaced, but let him lead me back down the corridor. He shrugged on a coat, said goodbye to the duty sergeant and we left.
The only other person in the Hanging Bull when we arrived was the barman. I ordered a beer as I was definitely going to need something alcoholic to avoid strangling Nick for making me do this. He pulled me over to a small table along the wall. “We can go into Penzance for our meal next week, if you like,” he murmured.
“I’m sure that Trevathorn will do. We can go to the local café.” I retorted.
“Trevathorn works for me,” he said with a smile. “But the café food makes me ill so we’ll have to go to my place. I’ll cook.” He winked at me. Oh good God.
I was about to answer him when a shadow fell across the table. I looked up and my heart suddenly sank into the pit of my stomach. It was Corrigan. He’d changed since earlier and was now wearing a dark turtleneck and a pair of jeans that stretched snugly over his thighs. I swallowed.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “You’re just breaking hearts everywhere you go, aren’t you?”
Nick scowled at him and looked at me. “Who’s this, Mack?”
“I’m her employer,” said Corrigan, pulling up a stool and sitting down. The stool was too small for his body and he looked faintly ridiculous. I was still scared though.
“Where’s John?” asked Nick.
“He’s gone away on business,” Corrigan said, keeping his eyes trained on me with a terrifying focus. “So, Mackenzie, does Tom know that you are out here meeting another man?”
Nick jerked. “Tom? Mack, you said that you and he had nothing going on.”
I looked between the two of them. Hiding the truth from the Brethren alpha was definitely the preferable option. I sighed, hating myself a lot - and Corrigan more. “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
He jumped back. “And dinner next week? Were you going to come along and continue to lie to me?”
“Nick, I’m sorry, I…”
“F*ck off.” He stood up, kicking his chair behind him, and walked out. The barman, polishing a glass a few feet away, raised an eyebrow at me. Corrigan stared stonily at him and he immediately coughed and muttered something about fetching a fresh keg from the back room, before darting away faster than I would have thought possible for a man of his size.
I looked at Corrigan, annoyed. He looked amused. “Playing around with a human behind a shifter’s back, eh kitten? You’re dangerous to know.”
The fire inside me rose. “You idiot - he’s the local policeman. I was trying to find out what he knew about John.”
“And why would he know anything about John? He’s just a human.”
My reply died in my throat. Just a human. I looked at Corrigan, mute.
He laughed, oblivious. “I’ll have to think of something that you would want from me so that I can get you to come round to my place for dinner too.” There was a suggestive gleam in his eyes.
My mind went suddenly and abruptly - and completely - blank. I continued to stare at him.
His tanned hand covered mine. I tried to jerk back but he clamped it to the table. “You need to come with me,” Corrigan said, with more than a hint of steel.
“I don’t need to do anything,” I replied, although this time without any fire. I was still confused by his last words. Between his proposition – had it even been a proposition? – and his dismissal of anyone human, my emotions were churning. I tugged at my hand and he thankfully let it go.
“The mage is here,” he stated, calmly. “We need all of the pack back at the keep.”
“So you came to get me yourself? Couldn’t the Lord of all the Brethren find someone to run his petty errands for him?”
“Oh, believe me, kitten, I enjoyed doing this one on my own.” His eyes continued to gleam and I was suddenly all too aware of his proximity. I scrambled to my feet.
“I thank you for your diligence,” I said formally. “I’ll see you back at the keep then.”
I walked out of the pub, hoping that he wasn’t going to follow. No such luck, however, as before I’d gone barely ten steps he was by my side. If he called me kitten again I was pretty sure that I’d have hands wrapped around his throat. Just as it seemed that I was getting somewhere with finding out more about who, or what, had killed John, the last person in the world I wanted to notice me had decided to make new friends. And I was definitely no-one’s kitten.
“You’re a rather prickly person, aren’t you, Mack?”
I ignored him and tried to walk faster. At the very least I could do my best to get to the keep in double speed so that this couldn’t be prolonged for any length of time.
“In fact you’re the least pack-like shifter I’ve come across in some time. You appear to have a stubborn streak of independence that is – unusual - for our kind.”
I stiffened. Was he going to suddenly dramatically reveal that he knew I wasn’t a shifter after all?
“The thing is,” he continued, “not only do you appear to be absolutely terrified every time I come near you, there appear to be some anomalies in your story.”
Uh-oh. “What do you mean?” I could feel my heart suddenly beating louder and hoped that he couldn’t hear it.
“You told me, very clearly I might add, that your nickname is Red because you wear red clothes.”
“Yeah? What of it?” Go for nonchalant, I thought, that’ll work.
“Your boyfriend, well the pack one at least, not the human, told me quite categorically that it was because it was a private joke between the two of you. That when you are, er, how shall I put this delicately? Intimate with him, you blush a particularly attractive pink colour.”
Forget killing the Brethren alpha, I was going to kill Tom.
“And then, your charming little friend who fought first told me that it was because you have a fiery temper. Which doesn’t surprise me in the least, I have to say. What does surprise me is that at the very least two members of this pack have lied to me. And I will not condone that sort of attitude. Now I could compel them – and you – to tell me the truth, but I’d rather have it voluntarily from you.”
Now that all else had failed, I figured the truth was about all I had left. It might work, I supposed. “My hair is red. I dyed it. That’s it.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “And why would you do that?”
I shrugged. “I wanted a change. Girl’s prerogative.”
“That still doesn’t explain why your friends – and you – lied about it.”
“It’s, uh, a sore point, to be honest. I’d rather not talk about it.”
I was tying myself up into circles. I was pretty sure I’d lied more in the last two days than I had in my entire life up till now. I couldn’t think of any good reason as to why I’d dye my hair then lie about it.
“You can trust me,” he murmured, voice silky smooth.
Think, Mack, think. “I’ve, um, always hated the colour.” Sooo not true. “I was teased about it mercilessly when I was a kid and I’ve been trying to forget that I’m ginger. My friends understand that.”
“To the point where they would lie to the Lord Alpha about it to protect your delicate sensibilities?”
“They’re good friends,” I replied shortly.
“So, let me see if I can get this straight. You’ve lied about your hair, you’ve lied about the wolf to the human, and the human to the wolf. Can anything that you say be trusted?”
I walked on stiffly. I was starting to get very scared indeed. “I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. John was…he was…dear to me. If I’ve lied to anyone, it’s only so I can find out what happened to him.”
“I could compel you to tell me everything.”
No you couldn’t. “I suppose, you could, yes. That’s much what I’d expect from the leader of the Brethren, use brute force to get what you want. Are you going to?”
“You don’t seem to have much regard for us.” He stared ahead. “It doesn’t matter though, I have no doubt that you’ll tell me the whole truth eventually, one way or another.” There was a faint mocking edge to his voice.
“You are only here for another twenty four hours,” I commented, tightly praying that he’d not changed his mind.
He laughed slightly. “Yes, but I somehow think our paths will cross again.”
I bloody well hoped not.