Hidden Crimes (25 page)

“Thank you, man. This is decent of you.”

“It’s my job,” Nate said. “Just like saving
people from fires is yours.”

Iseult stood a moment later, more gracefully.
“You’ll keep this quiet, won’t you? You won’t risk my grandson’s
life by going to your pack.” She held the pink-tinged pearl pendant
that hung at her throat, a nervous habit, he guessed. Her irises
were pure silver, as if strands of that precious metal had been set
to radiate around her jet-black pupils. He saw her appeal then. She
was a cool calm lake among icy mountains, a respite from the heat
and jangle of normal life. Other women’s beauty was crude compared
to hers. Most men would consider it an honor to do as she asked
them.

“You can count on me,” he said. For at least
three heartbeats, he meant exactly that.

~

Nate’s motto was: if you don’t know what to
expect, expect everything. Paul’s bank seemed innocuous enough. It
was a small Resurrection Savings and Loan, a suburban style
one-story with a drive-through. The drive-through wasn’t going to
cut it for a sixty thousand buck withdrawal. As he strode across
the grass-rimmed parking lot, Nate saw Paul sitting in his car. He
was alone; Liane was being excluded from the proceedings for as
long as possible. Paul looked nervous, but no more than he ought to
be. A florist’s van parked half a block down could have been
surveillance—as could any of the five customers inside.

When he’d let himself into Rick’s apartment
to take the keys to his car, Nate had liberated a few items from
his ammo closet as well. He had six electrum throwing stars in his
leather jacket’s pocket, a tiny canister of knock-out gas, and
fresh clips for his ankle gun. Anything bigger was likely to be
spotted. As it was, he was counting on an old obfuscation charm to
confuse the bank’s weapons detectors. The bag of pre-spelled herbs
had been gathering lint in Rick’s catchall drawer, saved for a
rainy day that had finally come.

No alarms went off as he entered, so he could
check off one worry box. Badging the oldest of the four tellers
also went smoothly. Her brows shot up, but she closed her window
and went for the manager. A brief discussion with that gentleman
reassured Nate he could text Paul to come in. The teller would
direct Paul to the manager’s office, where Nate and he would be
assembling the not-new, non-sequential bills—just as the kidnappers
had instructed. Paul wasn’t on as tight a budget as Evina, but he
wasn’t rolling in dough either. The money would have to be drawn
from Paul and Liane’s accounts, including their 401k—no easy task
on short notice unless the cops were involved.

Once again he noted how neatly the necessity
for his presence had been arranged.

The bank’s offices were small, arranged in a
line at the rear of the building along a narrow hall. The manager’s
office was the last. Paul joined them a few minutes later, carrying
the gym bag he’d been told to bring. He seemed surprised to see
them counting money already.

“That’s it?” he said. “You’re just giving us
the cash?”

The manager, an older human with short white
hair, slid him some forms. “You understand if something happens, we
can’t reimburse your accounts.”

“Sure,” Paul said dazedly, sitting down to
sign.

A polite knock sounded on the door. “Excuse
me, Mr. White,” said the original teller. “Your ten o’clock has
arrived. Shall I ask him to wait?”

“Tell him I’ll be free in fifteen minutes,”
he said.

There was nothing odd about this
conversation. Both their voices and manners were perfectly normal.
Nate’s objection was that they were
too
normal. The teller
didn’t bat an eye at the sight of her boss dropping stacks of
rubber-banded twenties into a black gym bag. No matter how well
trained she was, she wouldn’t see that everyday.

Fuck
, he thought.
They’re in on
it
.

Small though the movement was, the bank
manager saw him stiffen. A semi-automatic Ruger flashed into his
hand, drawn from behind the machine he was using to count the cash.
Nate had a millisecond to decide on his reaction. Let himself be
taken and see what happened next, or grab one of them to question
while the odds against him were relatively low. The female teller
was near enough to subdue. Nate slammed her into the wall with his
forearm against her neck.

This required more force than he’d intended
to use. For a human in her sixties, the teller had fight in
her.

Then again, maybe she wasn’t as human as she
looked. As she struggled, her age-seamed skin began twinkling.

It took quite a bit of his strength and
quickness, but Nate got one of his razor sharp throwing stars up
against her neck.

“Drop the gun, Mr. White,” he ordered, “or I
puncture your friend’s esophagus.” Wolves were known to be hotdogs.
They might believe he’d do it.

“Jesus,” Paul breathed, half a step
behind.

“Drop it!” Nate repeated.

“That’s not necessary,” said the teller with
a slight smile. “Not when I can so easily drop you.”

She had her hands up against his chest. She
whispered a word, and her fingernails grew longer. They weren’t
animal nails. From the glimpse he caught, they seemed to be made of
brass. Their tips were sharp. Two broke through his cotton shirt to
pierce his skin. Blood welled up in hot drops.

“Sleep,” she said.

Nate dropped like he’d been hammered.

NORMALLY, Evina’s kids would have been
delighted to spend the day in their grandmom’s shop. Rita’s
Treasures was filled with mazelike aisles of treats—including
vintage toys.

Today, Abby and Rafiq had caught their
mother’s restlessness. Necessarily in protective mode, Evina was
jumping at every jingle of the door or shift in the light. Not
wanting to ruin her mother’s sales, she’d shooed the kids and
herself into the children’s corner in the rear. There she took up a
post at the start of the hall that ran between Rita’s storage room
and office. The position provided a view of the front and back
exits. The back was the door to the alley, where Rita accepted
deliveries.

Twice since they’d arrived, Evina had checked
that it was locked.

Unaware what was going on, Abby and Rafi
shared a two-bottomed wicker chair. Together, they flipped the
pages of their favorites from Rita’s collection of picture books.
Though Abby was a better reader than her brother, she didn’t seem
in the mood to read to him.

“Why can’t we go to school?” she asked.

Rafi looked at her like she was crazy.

“I told you,” Evina said. “We’re taking a
family day off today.”

“Then why can’t we go to the movies or the
zoo?”

“Maybe we’ll do that later. Right now
Grandmom is working.” Evina swept her watchful gaze to the front of
the store. Two display windows framed the entrance, the little
stages behind them arranged around themes that struck Rita’s fancy.
On the left, she’d set up an assortment of quilts and blankets,
which she’d draped over colonial style furniture. On the right, two
mannequins in 1950’s dress drank tea at a chic brasserie table.

Evina had an uncontrollable urge to confirm
once again that the back door was secure.

“Mommy,” Rafi said in the piping tone all
adults learned to fear, “is Detective Rivera your boyfriend
now?”

“I don’t know,” she said without
thinking.

“Why don’t you know? Didn’t he ask if he
could be?”

Evina looked at her son and smiled. “Maybe
he’ll ask me later.”

“Could you ask him?” Rafi suggested
hopefully. “I think he’s nice.”

“That’s girl stuff,” Abby scolded, shoving
him with her shoulder. “First Mommy has to decide how much she
likes him.”

Rafi shoved her back harder, the pair of them
threatening to tip the light chair over.

“Settle down,” Evina said, scanning the store
again. Her mother was at the counter, bringing out trays of costume
jewelry for a pretty female elf customer. Evina bit the side of her
thumbnail. The mention of Nate had snarled her nerves. He’d said
he’d call when he got a chance but couldn’t predict when that would
be. To her, not knowing when she’d get news was worse than it being
overdue.

“To hell with it,” she muttered, rummaging
through the purse that hung on her shoulder for her cell. The
digits she punched into it weren’t Nate’s. He’d warned her he was
turning off his phone.

“Damn it,” she said as the line she’d dialed
rang and rang. “Don’t you wolves ever pick up calls?” Voicemail
activated, telling her to leave her name and a brief description of
her business.
Fine,
she thought, fed up with being
civilized.

“This is Evina Mohajit, calling for Adam
Santini. I’ve been dating your packmember, Nate. I know he hasn’t
been your favorite person lately, but if your head isn’t shoved too
far up your fat alpha ass to listen, he could use your help today.
He’s going after the rest of the bogus adoption ring. You know, the
ones you were too pigheaded to look for? Oh, and if protecting the
people you’re responsible for isn’t enough of an incentive, he
stole someone named Rick’s car. If nothing else, you might want to
find Nate to get it back.”

Sorry her cell phone didn’t have anything to
slam, she pushed the ‘end call’ button.

Rafi and Abby were staring at her like
owls.

“All right,” she said, forcing herself to
calm. “Mommy lost her temper a little bit. She knows she shouldn’t
talk on the phone that way.”

To make matters worse, Rita had heard the
outburst too. Her well-plucked eyebrows were raised as her high
heels clicked crisply to the back of the store.

“Darling,” she said sweetly, causing Evina to
wince inside. This was the tone Rita used to keep her in line as a
teenager. “You know I’m happy to have you and the kids with me, but
maybe you could try not to scare away customers? That lovely elf
was
going to buy the thank you presents for her
bridesmaids.”

“Sorry,” Evina said. “Maybe she’ll come back
later?”

Rita rolled her eyes as the bell on the front
door jingled. “Behave yourself, Evina-Monster. I don’t want to
ground you.”

Evina grinned at the dredging up of her old
nickname. Her amusement didn’t prevent her from checking out the
new customer. When she did, her pulse started thudding with
something other than anger. The man in the suit might look like he
was browsing for silver spoons, but she’d know that arrogant
profile anywhere.

She yanked her mother out of the evil
doctor’s view.

“Mom,” she said as quietly as she could. “Do
you have a key to your news producer friend’s apartment?”

“Yes,” Rita said, thankfully just as hushed.
“Why do you want to know?”

Evina met and held her gaze, aware she was
about to ask a lot of her. “I want you to take the kids out the
back door and drive to his place. Wait. Make them change in your
office first. If anyone tries to stop you, I don’t want them to be
defenseless. As cubs, they’ll have teeth and claws.”

Rita’s beautifully made-up face was truly
worried now. “Darling—”

“Please, Mom, just go as fast as you
can.”

“But, sweetie, what are you planning to do?”
Rita was already pulling Abby and Rafi gently from their chair.
They behaved like tiger cubs in the wild in the face of danger, not
uttering a peep, though their eyes were big. Evina knew she’d never
loved her mother or her children more.

“I’m going to cover your getaway,” she
said.

~

The doctor smiled at her approach—just a
little smile, too smug to show his teeth. His glass-gray eyes
gleamed with enjoyment beneath his plain brown brows.

“How nice to see you again,” he said. “I’m so
glad I have different instructions for dealing with you today. My
name is Clarence, by the way. Clarence Beaumont, M.D.”

He held out his hand. The air around it
shimmered like a heat mirage from the power he’d fed into it. Evina
kept her hand behind her back. She had better uses for it than
falling for his trick.

“What do you want?” she asked flatly.

“Merely to invite you to a party we’re
throwing.” His offer to shake refused, Beaumont examined his
fingernails. “You’ve been quite the little thorn in our sides,
Evina. First that vision, then recognizing me at the strip mall.
I’d say you have a knack for sticking your kitty nose where it
doesn’t belong.”

He knew about the vision? Only the cops in
Nate’s squad should have known about her report of that. Had she
screwed up by calling Nate’s alpha?

“I’m not really a party girl,” she said.

She heard the sound she’d been waiting for,
the quiet click of her mother and the kids closing the back door.
She prayed Dr. Beaumont was too much of an egotist to think he
needed reinforcements in the alley. He certainly didn’t seem to
understand what an alpha tigress could do.