“Pure silver.” His gaze ticked back to me, eyebrows dipping down. “Why?”
“That ring in the picture? The man who put his hand over Sven’s mouth?”
Ryder exhaled. “You think it’s him. You think he is strong enough to kill a vampire? To beat up a werewolf?”
“No. But I think he’s working for a vampire, and maybe other creatures who are strong enough to do those things. Maybe they all wear matching rings. Maybe he’s the leader of his own splinter group.”
“Jake’s not like that.”
“Do you trust him? Trust him enough to bet Ben’s life on it?” When he didn’t answer, I went on. “I saw him on your porch a few nights ago. You were arguing. What were you fighting about?”
“He wanted me to get him inside Old Rossi’s house. Wanted to meet Old Rossi. He thought he was a vampire. Thought he was the prime.”
“Putting aside the question as to how he would have assumed that, why were you arguing with him? I thought it was your job to roll out the welcome wagon to the creatures in town.”
“I didn’t like his approach. I grew up here. I’ve known Rossi all my life. It just seemed...rude and unnecessary. Like he was some kind of criminal hiding something and we were banging down his door. Whether he was or wasn’t a vampire didn’t mean we shouldn’t treat him with basic courtesy and respect. Just like anyone else in town.”
My chest warmed and the rest of me went a little gooey. Thinking of Old Rossi as a vampire, but still a person with rights and feelings said a lot about what kind of man Ryder was.
“But you took him out there anyway.”
“No. It was weird. Right after I’d told Jake to shove off because I wasn’t going to rig up some false pretenses as to why we should get into Old Rossi’s house, Old Rossi called. Had a remodel he wanted done for his studio. That’s what he said, anyway. I’m not sure if that’s the truth, or if he just wanted to put eyes on me and Jake because he suspected we were from the agency.”
“He suspected. He might also want the remodel. Do you have any idea where Jake might be? Who he might check in with? A boss, a co-worker, family?”
“No. And if...if it turns out he was a part of Sven’s death and the kidnapping. What they did to Jame...”
I waited. Wondered what he would do if, or more like when, we proved that Jake wasn’t playing on the right side of justice.
“There are a couple people I could call,” he said. “Agents he might get in touch with who might know where he is.”
“Can you contact them?”
“Yeah. I can. How’s Jame doing?”
“He’ll heal. But if we don’t find Ben...I don’t know.” I rubbed my eyes. “The vamps and weres have a pretty uncertain truce. If Ben dies, if Jame loses his mate, I just don’t know how we’re going to keep the situation under control.”
Ryder walked pretty quietly for a big guy. His hands pressed gently on my arms and stroked upward. “What can I do?”
“For what?” I muttered behind my hands.
“For you.”
I put my hands down and looked up at him. I was tired, broken-hearted over the visit with Jame. Worried. Very worried. Whatever wasn’t working between Ryder and me suddenly seemed inconsequential. “Just, maybe...hold me for a minute?”
He held his breath as if surprised at my answer, then shifted forward. I folded against his chest as his arms wrapped around my back, one wide hand cupping the back of my head.
And for a minute, maybe more, the world became only our heartbeats, our breathing, our warmth.
Chapter 20
Two hours of phone calls, no new leads, no news from either vampires or werewolves. The case for finding Ben or Jake was getting nowhere.
I’d already drunk a week’s worth of coffee and was on the way to the Cake and Skate. Yes, Ben was missing and we needed to find him. But the fundraiser was an immediate all-hands-on-deck situation. I had to be there for crowd control and general police presence, especially since Myra was participating instead of wearing a uniform.
The vampires and werewolves were some of the best hunters Ordinary had to offer and they were all out looking for Ben. If anyone could find him, it would be the Rossis or Wolfes.
The best thing I could do right now was get through the fundraiser, then get back to work.
An open lot next to the Puffin Muffin bakery was set up in bright Saturday Market style with tents and tables, streamers and balloons. The radio station was sheltered under a bright awning, playing tunes, giving out bumper stickers, and waiting for the big event.
For eight o’clock on a cloudy (but not rainy) morning, there were a lot of people gathered already, most of them walking, but a good portion were on bicycles too.
Dozens of umbrella hats bobbed along in the crowd, and I shook my head. I didn’t know if people were wearing them because they were comfortable and (wrongly) thought they were fashionable, or if Crow was right and had blazed a new Northwest fashion craze to go with our flannel, craft brews, and mushroom hunting.
I parked my Jeep and strolled over toward the bakery. I scanned faces, looking for kidnappers, looking for enemies. While I saw strangers, I didn’t see anyone who seemed out of place.
I also didn’t see any vampires or werewolves, which felt weird.
Death stood near the entrance to the open lot, wearing a bright yellow umbrella hat, a pink jacket with HAPPY KILLS scribbled across it, handing out balloons to children.
Okay, so that was weird plus one.
“You made it,” Jean fell into step beside me and handed me a cup.
I lifted it and took a sniff my coffee-sour stomach clenching. Cocoa, not coffee. Perfect.
“How’s Myra doing?”
“You have to see this for yourself.” Even though Jean hadn’t gotten much more sleep than I had, she was grinning, her pink and orange-streaked hair pulled back in two high ponytails over her ears, her step light.
I couldn’t help but smile. I envied her ability to see the humor in the world, to always find something to smile about even when things looked grim. Not for the first time I was happy my parents had tried one more time for a boy, and instead given me a baby sister.
She led me around the crowd to the bakery parking lot.