BirthStone (8 page)

Opening the file, he re-read his notes from
the beginning and smiled. Now that he knew Rose Bennett was bitch
to one of La Patron’s top security men, he marveled at how well
she'd handled him. She could have ripped out his throat and covered
it up easily. There might have been a few questions, but his death
would have been swept under the rug. He had been rude and
disrespectful when he'd interviewed her. Once he discovered who she
was, he'd apologized to her mate. Apology had been accepted and he
lived to work another day. But the words he had spoken to La
Patron’s bitch were not so easily glossed over. He had received a
well deserved tongue-lashing from Froggy, and La Patron had knocked
him down. Lesson learned. It was a good trade-off as far as he was
concerned.

The folder was jam-packed with
circumstantial data, but nothing concrete connected La Patron to
the death of Merriweather. There never had been any substantial
clues, other than the ramblings of a rich man yelling for justice
for his corrupt relative. And the twisted desire of a dying
detective bent on making a name for himself.

Jennings pulled his thoughts together and
began filling in the computerized form. Just as he reached the end,
the phone on his desk rang. As he re-read the comments he had
typed, he answered. “Jennings.”

“Detective Jennings, delighted to hear a
competent voice on the other end of the phone. I trust your father
is better,” Alfred Merriweather said. Four weeks ago, Jennings
would have wholeheartedly agreed with the man, puffed up his
over-inflated ego even more, and pretended they were both on the
same team. Now that he knew most of the cops on the force were
wolves, he took offense at the dig and didn’t respond to the
belittling remark.

It took Jennings a moment to remember the
cover story Froggy had given him to explain his extended absence.
“Thanks, he is doing somewhat better, but he’s not quite out of the
woods yet. My brother is there with him now.” All of that was true
except he hadn’t been in Montana with his stepfather when the man
fell and broke his hip.

“Good, good, glad to have you back. Listen,
I know you haven’t had an opportunity to do much on the case but I
found a folder in Bobby’s things. I’d like you to come over and
take a look at. I would bring it to the station but in all honesty,
I believe your fellow officers are tired of me and my family. If
you don’t mind coming out here, I’d appreciate it.”

An uneasy feeling skittered down his spine.
One thing Froggy had preached the last three weeks, trust your
instincts because that’s your wolf communicating with you. “I'm
sorry but I have to clear my desk. I have a backlog here from being
gone so long. If you can, just drop the folder off with the front
officer, and I’ll grab it from him and take a look at it.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll see what I can do. Just
trying to get justice for my brother. You understand, right,
Detective?”

Jennings heard the curious note in the other
man’s voice. “Most definitely Mr. Merriweather. We all want justice
and will do everything within our power to bring that about.”

“Good to hear it, I knew you were a man of
value when I first met you. You’ll find the people responsible for
murdering Robbie. I have faith in your sense of honor.” He paused
as if Jennings should say something.

He didn’t.

“Well, thank you for your time, Detective.
I’ll get that file to you.”

“I appreciate that Mr. Merriweather. Have a
good day.” He clicked off, gazed at his report for a minute, and
then finished his comments. “There is inconclusive evidence that
the death of Robert Merriweather was anything other than
accidental,” Jennings read softly before closing the file and
sending it to the captain.

Three hours later, he came back from lunch.
The captain had left a message for him to report to his office when
he returned. After taking a long sip from his cup, he tossed it and
went to see the captain. He tapped on the closed door.

“Captain?”

“Come in, Jennings.”

He ran his fingers through his short
reddish-brown hair, and tucked his shirt into his black pants
before opening the door. Unsure what awaited him on the other side,
Jennings moved cautiously, listening to his wolf.

Captain Samson sat behind his desk, a large
folder sat on the side. He waved Jennings to a chair. “Sit,
sit.”

Jennings took a seat, trusting his wolf to
inform him of any foul play. “Thank you, Sir.” He found a
comfortable spot and waited for the captain to explain the purpose
of this visit.

“Merriweather had one of his people drop
this box with folders and other things off while you were at lunch.
He called fifteen minutes ago saying a small box with a piece of
critical evidence, some clothes or something, was accidentally left
out of the package they delivered and wondered if you or one of the
other officers could swing by to pick them up. I told him that we
could wait until someone on his staff had an opportunity to bring
in the additional information, but he insisted this new evidence be
looked at today. He went on and on about how patient he’s been, and
the many times he has come to the station.” The captain released a
long sigh. Sitting forward, he clasped his hands on his desk and
gazed at Jennings. “I’m not going to lie. When you first came here
a couple of months back, challenging the status quo, and allowing
this man to have a voice, I wondered how long you’d last. When you
disappeared, I thought I’d have to write you off. It shocked me
when La…Mr. Knight called to tell me you were returning and to make
sure you received your back pay.”

Jennings hid his surprise at the captain’s
candor.

“I read your report, you closed the case
that I told you wouldn’t go anywhere in the beginning. But in the
meantime you became Merriweather’s champion. He didn’t stress that
you be the one to pick this information up, but it’s your case and
I want you to handle it. Besides, he thinks you are the only honest
cop on the force.”

Jennings cheeks were on fire. “Sir, that was
not my intent –”

The captain waved down his explanation. “I
am a black police captain in the mountains of West Virginia, with
two more years to serve before my retirement.” He eyed Jennings as
he tapped a folder on his desk. “How do you think that
happened?”

Jennings had wondered but never dared to
ask. “I don’t know, Sir.”

“I applied and interviewed for the position
along with a lot of other highly qualified men and women. This…” he
waved at his large office, “...is a dream job. This city has one of
the lowest crime rates in the nation. My salary is comparable to
those of much larger cities and the perks are awesome. My home,
car, and insurance…covered…for life.”

Jennings stared at the older black man in
shock. That was a really good deal. Maybe he should hang around and
apply when the old man retired. “Wow.” That was all he could come
up with and it was inadequate.

“Yeah, but after I interviewed with everyone
else, my final interview was with Silas Knight. He approves every
government official who works in this state.”

Jennings’ eyes widened. He didn’t know
that.

“When he sends a cop to me for a position,
the man is hired, no questions asked. Or if he sends new equipment,
like the security monitors his people are installing now, I say
thank you and don’t ask questions. For all intents and purposes,
Silas Knight runs the state of West Virginia, probably a few other
states as well,” the captain murmured. He hit the desk, garnering
Jennings attention.

“That’s why I want this report closed. But
you can’t close it without at least looking at whatever
Merriweather has to show you. He might kick up some dust, have
someone start looking into local affairs. I don’t want to chance
that. Leave early, go to his estate, look at whatever he has so you
can make an addendum to the report and then close this case. Do you
understand, Detective Jennings?”

“Yes, Sir.” A sense of pride rose within him
over the accomplishments of his Alpha. “I will take care of it
today.” He stood and remained standing next to his chair.

“Make sure that you do. I want to add that
the file is closed when I give Mr. Knight my weekly report.”

Jennings fought to keep the surprise off his
face.

“Dismissed,” the captain said. Jennings left
the office, his mind shuffling and filing away all the information
he had received. One thing stood out above everything else, his
Alpha, La Patron was one tough dude.

Chapter 6

Cameron strode down the corridor searching
for Silas. The challenge was in a few weeks and his Alpha had not
approved of him entering the competition. He wondered if Silas had
doubts over his ability to rule the state or win the fight. If he
fought one of the twins, chances were he’d lose. But he had fought
Serrano during training and won all of their skirmishes. He
believed he could take the man again.

His mate had been urging him to speak with
Silas so that he could train better to fight the right opponent in
the competition. There were moments when he believed she wanted him
to become Alpha more than he did. But at least she talked more
freely with him now and allowed him into her bed. It seemed a
decent trade-off to him.

He stopped at the door of the lab and saw
Dr. Passen speaking to a few men in lab coats. Cameron headed in
his direction. The doctor eyed him for a second before finishing
his conversation. By the time Cameron reached the man, the other
two had walked off.

“Hey Doc, I heard La Patron was down here.”
He gazed around the large well-lit area seeking his godfather.

Dr. Passen released a breath, his entire
demeanor changed as his eyes slid to the floor. “Oh… okay, you’re
not here for…yes, he was here earlier. But I’m not sure where he is
now. I’ll be calling him soon to view the testing of some
equipment.”

“When? How soon?”

“Within the next hour.”

Cameron nodded and reached out for Silas
along their private link, there was still no response. “I’ll come
back,” he said, backing out of the lab. “Could you tell him I was
here looking for him?”

“Yes, sure. I’ll let him know.” Doctor
Passen waved him off and returned to the reports he’d been reading.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured, looking at the numbers again. Wanting
another opinion, he placed a call. It was answered on the first
ring.

“Hello.”

“Matt, I have some new testing results on
Asia. I need another pair of eyes on this, it’s too… when can you
get here?”

“I’m in the car on my way now. I should be
there in ten minutes.” He paused. “It’s that good?”

“Mind blowing, high level security, so make
sure you’re cleared. I want you to work with me on this. La Patron
wants this done yesterday.”

“He always does.”

Passen snorted. It was true, but in this
case he understood why. Asia was a walking blueprint for at least
five key experiments. If they could unravel the codes and duplicate
her mechanisms, they could find a way to defend against the
technology their enemies threw at them. He still had nightmares
over that week when bombs and viruses rendered them almost
impotent. They’d had no way to detect the bombs or save the lives
of those infected with the unknown virus. He’d left everything
behind when La Patron called him for service and was glad he had.
The things he had seen and learned in the past weeks were on the
cutting edge. Being one of the leaders in this type of research
would make his career.

“See you when you get here.” He clicked off
and stared at the paper. A few moments later he opened the door to
Asia’s room. She lay on the twin bed, her head bandaged and her
eyes covered with the locked blindfold. She had been through so
much and yet she fought to survive when many would have given
up.

“Are you going to remain by the door,
Doctor, or do you plan to tell me what’s on your mind?” The
normalcy of her tone gave no hint of the extreme pain she suffered,
which he knew the severity of, given the barrage of testing he’d
recently put her through.

He snorted and moved away from the door,
pulled the chair from beneath the small desk, and sat. Once he
heard the door lock into position, he spoke, “You are an amazing
woman.”

In the dimness of the room, he noticed she
went still. “I am? What have you discovered to make you say
that?”

“You know more than you admit, I believe you
are prevented from telling us everything by the small lock La
Patron discovered earlier. From the x-rays we took this morning, I
noticed several small metal teeth digging into your brain to hold
it in place. There is a fake vein that travels from a small
transmitter behind your eyes to this lock. I would like to remove
it to see what’s inside.”