I wasn’t fond of dealing with either Raoul or the cops. Even when I wasn’t doing a damn thing wrong, I felt like they were picking me apart, searching for something to pin on me. That went equally for the police and my former Alpha.
The Stony Plain precinct was relatively small. It didn’t have much in the way of imprisonment other than a few holding cells. This wasn’t a high crime town. Vandalism and theft was the worst of what we see here, another reason the little town was home. Chances were good that, whatever pathetic little cell they had Raoul in, it had seen more drunk-tank guests than true criminals.
I parked a block away and used the extra walking distance to gain a few added minutes to gather myself. The air smelled faintly of rain, a shower before morning. A red flag waved in my brain, and I questioned if I’d been dumb enough to leave the sunroof open on the car. I considered turning back to double check, but I knew I was just avoiding the awkward moment. I just needed to get this errand over.
I couldn’t imagine what Raoul had done to get arrested. Though, if I had to take a guess, I’d angle toward tax fraud or some kind of international embezzlement. With his love for money and toys, a financial crime seemed most likely.
Of course, he didn’t need money. After fifteen years in real estate, he surpassed the million dollar net margin easily though I didn’t know to what extent. So, I could only wonder what he’d been up to and why he’d called me to pick up his sorry ass.
We’d always had this one-sided relationship. He couldn’t be counted on for a damn thing while I’d constantly been left to pick up the slack. Yet another of the many reasons that I’d packed up years ago and moved across town.
To be fair, it’s not that Raoul is all bad. He took in both Shaz and I. He gave us a pack, a sense of belonging. The seventeen year age difference between Raoul and I cast him in the illusive glow of a leader that I could look to for guidance. By the time I moved out of his house, I had learned more about sex and bloodshed than living with my dual nature. Raoul was a manipulative player, and I couldn’t take anymore of his bull.
I’d come to a point where I had to assume there was more to being a werewolf than I’d ever learn from Raoul. Of course, I was right. While he counted daily earnings and bedded multiple partners, I ran through the forest on four legs with the moon pulsing in my veins.
It was impossible to avoid someone completely in a town this size, but I’d done a pretty good job so far. The last time he’d bothered me was a few months earlier when he had asked me to run with him. I ran as wolf in the forest behind my house several times throughout the week. Knowing what he really meant, I had promptly told him to get acquainted with his hand.
I squinted in the harsh light as I stepped from the shadows to the cornea-bursting, fluorescent lighting. The first door led me into a very small hallway with a locked security door at the other end. Beyond that was the receptionist behind yet another layer of bulletproof glass.
A bright red, arrow-shaped sign clearly pointed out the button that I should push in order to ask for admittance. The woman eyed me from behind the safety glass. Despite having already noticed me, she waited to acknowledge me.
I rolled my eyes and tried to resist a glance down at my casual jeans and tank top attire. They weren’t even dirty after the struggle with the vampire. I didn’t think I looked like a hooligan, but the sharp once over she gave me led me to wonder. Well, my tank top did read, “This is so not my eyes,” across my chest in big red letters.
What did she know? I thought smugly as I drew myself up to my full height plus the four-inch boot heels. I fixed her with a direct stare as I jabbed a finger at the button. There, I pressed it. Now let me in! I wasn’t about to be intimidated by some old lady behind a desk.
After an unnecessarily long moment of consideration, she gave in and pressed the door release. Great, now I had to talk to her.
The station was even smaller inside than I expected. I entered a small room and the heavy door slammed shut behind me. The lock clicked, and I realized that one must be let out manually as well. Nice.
I didn’t hesitate in approaching the woman, who glowered at me as if I’d eaten her Grandma. I pulled my driver’s license from my wallet and slid it through the small hole in the window. I just assumed she’d request it.
“My name is Alexa O’Brien.” I gestured to my I.D. card lying between us. I’d always thought that photo looked like a mug shot. “I’m here to pick up Raoul Roberts.”
She cast a glance at my identification and shrugged as she picked it up. “Just a moment.” With another suspicious glance, she’d moved down a hall to the right, beyond my view.