Loving Their Vixen Mate (Pack Wars Book 4) (24 page)

Mac had to dig hard to find much on Daniels. While she’d read he’d been arrested for drugs, and that Statler had gotten him off, she didn’t know the details. Then by chance, she stumbled across his arrest report. “Bingo.”

She’d known he’d been charged with transporting drugs across the Mexican border, but that was all. She read the details. She had to hand it to him. His method of delivery had been quite ingenious. According to the arresting officer, William Daniels had made a solution out of the drugs, dipped his clothes in the drug-filled liquid, and then dried the clothes. No bricks or bags of drugs showed up on the X-Ray because the material was the carrier. He and his wife might have gotten away with it had it not been for bad luck. That day, drug-sniffing dogs had been at the airport because of a tip about some cartel members smuggling heroin.

Mac continued to delve into the man’s story. Once his wife was diagnosed with stage four cancer, his trips stopped. However, a week ago, Daniels made another trip to Mexico with a female companion. Mac couldn’t help but wonder if he’d taken Cheryl. Did he think a man and his wife were less suspicious than him going solo? Probably so.

She pulled up photos of Mrs. Daniels and Mac’s heart sank. While Cheryl was taller by an inch and much thinner, they both had long, dark hair and brown eyes. Damn. In order for Cheryl not to scream bloody murder at the airport, he either would have had to drug her or threatened to harm her family. Mac debated calling Aunt Hannah and Uncle Andrew to warn them, but then stopped herself. Why cause them more worry on pure speculation?

Mac investigated Mr. Daniel’s car dealership again. From the online financial statements, the number of cars sold had been dwindling over the last few years. If his wife’s condition was deteriorating, he might need more funds to cover the cost of her care. That would be a good motive for returning to Mexico and purchase drugs.

Brandon came out of the hallway. They’d had a nice dinner and some wonderful sex. The three of them had decided to spend a relaxing evening watching a movie, but when she looked up, Brandon’s usual cheery demeanor had changed. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“Just got a call from one of our lookouts. Carl Hampton just left for the evening, and his wife and kids left an hour before that. Our sources tell us he’s attending some kind of investment seminar and should be gone for a few hours. This is our chance to check out his place.”

He was the one with the gate around his house. Mac had been about to ask how they intended to get over the gate, when she realized they could shift. Lucky them. “When will you be back?”

“We shouldn’t be gone longer than two hours.”

“You going to try to get into his house and look around?”

Brandon laughed. “That, darlin’, is none of your business. You keep working on hacking into everyone’s affairs, and we’ll do the dirty work.” Brandon leaned over and kissed her.

Sam rolled in behind Brandon and kissed her, too. “We won’t be long.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

As soon as their engine started, Mac shut down her computer. It was time to do a little investigating. First, she placed the tracking device under the seat cushion on the porch. She didn’t need the men checking on her whereabouts. If they realized she was gone, they’d search for her instead of doing their job.

Once she scoped out Daniels’ home, she might have to return and place a few listening devices on his windows, but she’d worry about that later.

With the GPS in her phone set to William Daniel’s address, finding his house was easy. Being able to work under the cover of night made her job of investigating the area safer. She drove around the block a few times not only to make sure that no one had followed her, but also to find a good spot to park. At first, she thought she’d take photos from the comfort of her car, but the hedges and trees blocked her view. Her only choice was to go by foot and get close.

With camera in hand, she checked to make certain that no one was watching before she ducked behind a tree. The living room blinds were open, giving her hope she could catch the man doing something that would implicate him. She didn’t get her hopes up that he’d parade Cheryl around in plain view.

A man of medium height with a slight paunch and short hair walked up to the window and peered out. Her heart hammered in her chest. Mac made herself as small as possible, praying he couldn’t see her. Werewolves had excellent vision, especially at night, and that worried her. Thankfully, she was dressed in all black. A light over the front porch, along with two streetlights, and the half moon, illuminated his front yard fairly well, but it also created a lot of shadows. She hid behind one now.

Fifteen minutes into her stakeout, headlights approached, and she crouched down, her back to the driveway. The light shifted, forcing her to look over her shoulder. The vehicle was turning in. Crap. Who was it? Not Mrs. Daniels. She was in hospice care. Mac held her breath, chancing one more peek. The car door slammed shut and the hairs on her neck bristled. He was a werewolf.

Footsteps sounded on the slate walkway. Curiosity won, and when she chanced another look, her heart dropped to her stomach. The straight shoulders and silver hair reminded her of one man—Paul Statler.

When the front door opened, she lifted her camera and snapped a few photos, hoping their voices would cover the click. Initially, Mac thought she’d stay long enough to get a feel for the place, but now she wanted to wait around until the new arrival left. Having a facial photo would confirm the visitor was the head of the Colter organization.

She sat on the ground and waited. She straightened, her mind racing. If she got his license plate number, she could ask one of her coworkers in Indiana to run the plates. Duh. Greg Bosak had connections with law enforcement all over the county.

She rose, aimed the camera on the window, and zoomed in. Unfortunately, the new arrival had his back to her. Damn. It was as if he knew she was there. If that were the case, she needed to get out of there pronto.

She slipped out of her hiding place. It was getting late and she didn’t want to get home after the men. They’d hog-tie her for sure.

Keeping low, she stepped behind the car and photographed the license plate.

Time to leave
.

She’d taken no more than three steps when a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist, preventing her from moving. Alarms sounded in her body. It was another werewolf. But it wasn’t Sam or Brandon.

Fuck me.
I’m doomed
.

“H
ow do you want to handle this?” Brandon asked.

When they’d gone to John Hood’s home, Brandon had shifted first. After giving the all clear, Sam had jumped the hedge. This time, Brandon didn’t want to make the same mistake of thinking no shifters were near. He still couldn’t figure out how he hadn’t sensed those three wolves in the first place.

“Let’s check the area first,” Sam suggested.

They walked around the fenced area of Carl Hampton’s house twice to make sure there were no Colters. When they didn’t detect any, Sam insisted he go first.

“Check everywhere thoroughly,” Brandon said.

Sam held up his middle finger and shifted. Brandon decided to wait until they knew there was no hoard of wolves waiting for them. He peered through the fence and spotted Sam circling the home. With the way he was rushing around, he must not have sensed anyone. Sam trotted over to the fence.
We’re good.

Five seconds later, Brandon shifted and made his way over the barrier. He was still skeptical they’d get in and out without incident. Who had an expensive home without an alarm? No one smart. The problem was that Carl Hampton didn’t make his fortune in the market by being dumb. The man must have some way of knowing if his place had been compromised.

Let’s cut the power to be safe
, he telepathed to Sam.

You want to do the honors?

Sure
.

Power’s on the side of the garage
, Sam told him.

Got any wire cutters on you?

Smart ass
.

Brandon raced to the back of the house and returned to human form. Hard to cut wires or throw switches with four paws. Sam stood guard. Once Brandon found the box, he threw the whole house circuit, and the entire perimeter went dark. The contrast to the neighbors’ lit homes was too severe. Damn. Brandon flipped on a few switches, hoping to light some of the rooms without activating the alarm system.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a fully human Sam asked walking up from the side.

“Can’t leave it all dark. It’s too obvious.”

“Come on. Let’s get in and out. We’re here to see if anyone is in the house. That’s all.”

Sam didn’t wait for a response. He jogged to the back door, pulled the lock picks from his pocket, and opened the door. Small items were fine when shifting. Big things, like guns were not.

Once inside, no alarm sounded, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a silent alarm. Brandon motioned for Sam to take the first floor, and he’d check out the second. Sam went into the living room while Brandon ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. If they stayed less than ten minutes, they should be fine. They’d decided not to take anything, not wanting Carl Hampton to know anyone had been there.

After looking at all the rooms and finding them free of kidnapped women, Brandon headed back to the first floor. He was halfway down the staircase when growls floated up from the main floor. Fuck.

Brandon concentrated on the different tones. Three wolves were present. He closed his eyes and shifted, careful not to let his arms and legs hit the banister as he changed. Once in wolf form, he crept down the stairs and headed toward the front of the house where the confrontation was taking place.

Two wolves were circling Sam. Brandon had no idea their identity, but he and Sam were the intruders. As much as he’d like to run out the back, the two sentries didn’t seem to be in the frame of mind to let them just walk away.

Snarling, Brandon approached, hoping those two would realize the fight had now shifted in his and Sam’s favor. He didn’t detect any marks on his cousin, but neither were either of the two wolves bloody. The fact Brandon didn’t spot a woman or kids anywhere implied these two might be local security guards hired by Hampton.

It was Brandon’s fault they were there. He must not have turned off the right circuit. In the future, he’d ask Mackenzie to locate the specs for the house, or learn who’d alarmed it. From the way the two wolves were still circling Sam, they were trying to figure out the best method of attack. They didn’t seem to understand that once the element of surprise was gone, their chances of winning dropped to near zero. He and Sam were the experts.

Not wanting any more reinforcements to show up, Brandon charged. He took the one on the left, and Sam attacked the wolf on the right. Brandon’s wolf swiped his paw across the left side of his neck. Shit. He could ill afford to let that happen again. Believing Sam capable of dealing with his one attacker, Brandon nabbed his wolf’s leg and didn’t let go until he heard the snap of a bone. The wolf wailed and dropped to the ground. If Brandon hadn’t been the one trespassing, he might have killed him. Then again, that would have created a messy cleanup, and the other Pack members had enough to deal with.

The animal’s leg would heal in a few minutes. It was time to go. He spun around to see if Sam needed help, but was relieved to find his cousin unscathed this time. The other wolf wasn’t so lucky. Blood marred his side, but that wound wasn’t fatal either.

Let’s get out of here,
he telepathed.

He and Sam charged outside. They’d been smart enough to leave the door ajar. As soon as they leaped over the fence, they shifted and walked calmly to Sam’s truck.

“That was a bust,” Sam said.

“What happened back there?”

Sam cranked up the engine. “What happened was either the alarm sounded or these two were in the neighborhood and sensed us. You find anything?”

“No. Seems whoever buys the women is keeping them away from their houses. It’s not surprising given Hampton has a wife and kids.”

“Did you really think we’d find Cheryl?”

“Not really. I did see three kids rooms, implying his family is still living there.”

Sam eased out of the neighborhood. “We’ll just have to dig deeper.”

*     *     *

Mac’s captor opened the rear car door. “Get in.” His command held more exasperation than evil.

Crap. Another shifter was already in the backseat, waiting for her. It was if they’d expected to catch someone. Why else would a passenger be back there?

“And if I don’t?” Mac spun around, pissed he’d not only cuffed her hands behind her back, but that she’d been caught. He must not care if she could identify him, as he didn’t try to get out of the glow of the streetlight. He was tall with short brown hair, and had shoulders broad enough to snap her in two. For some reason, she wasn’t all that afraid. If they’d wanted her dead, they would have killed her right away.