Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct (35 page)

Mackenzie laughed. “I see you’re ahead of me.”

“Thinking and proving are two different things, and a computer programmer tinkering with a product gives Stone motive as well. But I’m on the right track.” Arms crossed, he tilted his head and peered at her. “Admit it. You thought I’d go after Stone even harder, now. Make him pay since I’ve thought him guilty all along.”

She wouldn’t blush. Not much anyway. Damn it. “All right. Maybe for a second.”

“Uh huh. Since we’re being so honest with each other, I’ll admit I’d love nothing better than to take that designer tie Stone was wearing and hang him with it for putting you through this.” When she opened her mouth, Cooper held up a hand to ward off her defense. “But since the bastard does care about you, I’ll learn to suppress my baser urges.”

“Thanks.” She grinned.

“Now, will you do us all a favor? Go home.”

She held up both palms face out. “Hey, I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’ll just go home and play Solitaire, take up knitting, or something.”

“I’d like a scarf for Christmas,” he said with a wink.

Waiting was a bitch.

The thought of twiddling her thumbs at her place held about as much appeal as having a root canal done with no anesthesia.

A call to L.I. proved unsuccessful in reaching either of Rafe’s brothers. And the idea of accompanying Rafe through his day of boardrooms, press conferences, and other tortures of the executive world made her ill. Not that she wouldn’t love to spend time with him. But how pathetic could she be to even consider following him around so she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone? He had a job to do, and she...well, she was suspended.

God, how she hated that word.

Keeping a low profile was overrated, Mackenzie decided. She gave in to the urge to stop by a local haunt for many with a badge.

O’Malley’s Pot of Gold was a cramped, smoke-filled hole-in-the-wall where the only gold was a potent brew served in frosted pots resembling beer mugs.

She’d hit the place after the morning coffee rush and before the lunch crowd, so it was near empty, which suited her just fine.

Behind the bar, amid the colorful array of liquors, hung a photographic history of the Chicago police force. Men, women, and even a K-9 or two who left their mark in service to the Windy City.

“What’ll it be, Mac?” The familiar Irish brogue of the burly owner made her smile. Robert Ethan O’Malley spent thirty-plus years walking the beat before exchanging his badge for a bar. She’d first met him while still a rookie. Her first year was his last on the force. Mackenzie wasn’t certain who’d adopted whom, but during those months, they’d formed a bond.

“The usual, thanks.”

“One cold pop on the rocks, comin’ up.” He grinned as he poured the soft drink. “Ye sure you don’t want me tae throw in a bit o’ juice for bite? Rumor has it you’re not on the clock right now.”

Shaking her head, she gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Figures you haven’t fallen far from the grapevine, O’Malley.”

He set the glass in front of her and wiped down the counter. “Not everyone has these big ears of mine. I’d have tae be dead tae not catch a whisper now and again.”

“How bad is it?” she asked, sipping her soft drink.

O’Malley had worked with her sergeant back when they both patrolled the shadier sides of Chicago. If anyone had a clue about her future on the force, besides Fuller, O’Malley would.

“That depends on how much of it’s true. Fuller’ll do right by ye, if’n you’re right ‘bout that young man o’ yours.” He motioned toward the TV hanging from the ceiling in one corner.

“Hey, turn that up, will you?”

Rafe appeared as striking as ever, even surrounded by an ocean of microphones. She recognized the backdrop as the waterfall in the lobby of his corporate headquarters, the faint trickling sounds buried beneath a flood of questions.

He’d obviously announced the release of Cyber-Guard, as the banner over his left shoulder indicated, but the media was more interested in potential scandal and bloodletting.

“What’s your response to the recent accusations about a connection between you and the Canine Killings?”

“Recent, Evalyn?” He met the reporter’s gaze directly, confident, unwavering. “I believe you jumped to that inaccurate assumption the last time you were at my estate.”

Use names and make it personal, Mackenzie thought.
A conversation among friends. Didn’t I invite you into my home?
She couldn’t see the other reporters, but she’d bet a few cast curious eyes toward Drake. And still he slipped in the bit about false impressions. He was a sly one.

“I can understand your interest in such a possibility. Scandals make for good ratings, do they not?”

“We’re only seeking the truth, Mr. Stone,” Drake said a bit defensively.

“As I explained before, the truth is I’m willing to do whatever I can to assist the police in finding those responsible for these killings. I’ve offered my expertise and that of the Lykos Institute to ensure the guilty are brought to justice.”

Mackenzie leaned forward as he faced the camera.

“One of my own employees, a very talented programmer who worked on Cyber-Guard, is one of the victims. He was a husband and a father and didn’t deserve what happened to him. Neither did the senator. My heart and prayers go out to their families.”

“But the senator’s own son is the one pointing a finger at you.” The statement came from a male voice off-camera.

Rafe’s face softened, an opposite reaction to what she’d expect of a man whose reputation was challenged publicly.

“However much you may want it... I have no harsh words nor will I harbor any hard feelings against anyone for having a negative opinion of me. No matter how misinformed they may be, I share the same hopes they do. That the person responsible for this needless loss of life is stopped. I have every confidence that our law enforcement will find that person and that justice will be done.”

“Aye, he’s a smooth player, that one is,” O’Malley said as he leaned against the counter and watched Rafe excuse himself from the journalists. He cast her a knowing glance. “He’d have tae be to catch the eye of a lass like you.”

“You haven’t lost your instincts, O’Malley.” She downed the last of her drink, tossed a tip on the counter, and strolled out with the echo of his laugher still ringing in her ears.

Evalyn Drake tugged his sleeve before Rafe could make good his escape through the glass doors along the back wall of the lobby.

“I said no more questions, Ms. Drake. If you’ll excuse me...”

“I need another moment with you, alone if you don’t mind?”

“I’m afraid I do mind. I’m expected in a Web conference shortly.”

Her full lips thinned and her grip on his arm tightened.

“Look, whatever you may think of me, I meant what I said back there.”

He eyed her hand until she released her grasp. “Which part?”

“I am seeking the truth, and my gut tells me something is going on. Sergeant Fuller gave us the runaround yesterday. The lead investigator is AWOL.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. My control does not extend to overseeing the daily operations at the Chicago Police Department.”

His sarcasm earned him a frown. “My sources tell me all of that happened
after
you spent more than an hour cooling your heels in an interrogation room.”

When he glanced toward her cameraman who appeared to be packing up gear several yards away, she looked over her shoulder, too.

“I’m not wired, if that’s what you think. I’m a damn good reporter, but I’m a straight shooter.”

He nodded to the guard who buzzed him through. Once on the other side of the glass, he motioned her toward a couple chairs situated near the elevators.

“Off the record, what is it you’re after?” he asked.

“A trade.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a disk. “This came to me while working a press conference. It’s video of you leaving a building. A note with the disk said that Detective Lyons lives there. I checked it out. It’s true.”

She studied him as he took the disk.

“You’re not surprised. I was right to think I’m not the only one gifted with this bit of evidence.”

He chose not to answer. “You inquired about a trade. What exactly are you seeking?”

“An exclusive.”

“What? Are you thinking to nab an interview with me as a convict, should the rumors about me prove true?”

“You and I both know those rumors are bogus.”

“Do we?”

Her eyes rounded. “Are you suggesting I believe you’re guilty of multiple homicides?”

He smiled. If she only knew. “Of course not. I do find the thought interesting, considering where I found you the last time we met. I figured you’d be the first one out to hang me after G chased you up that tree.”

She scowled and failed to hide the shiver. “I’d rather not think of your wolf, but he’s part of the reason why I know you aren’t the killer.”

“Oh?”

“You’re too smart to use something that could so easily be traced back to your front door.”

He laughed. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a compliment.”

She waved that away. “That detective is smart enough to realize the same. I’ve checked into her background, too. She’s good, which is why I became suspicious when she vanished. Fuller had to have a darn good reason to pull her off the case.”

This reporter was entirely too observant for her own good, he thought.

“I could’ve used the video already, but I haven’t. That should account for something.”

“We both know you haven’t used it, because it proves nothing. And when I tell you the video was taken on the morning that I happened to visit the building for a final inspection before purchasing it...”

“I suppose an investigation into recent real estate purchases would support your claim?”

He nodded.

“Then I have even less,” she said with obvious disappointment.

“Actually, if you should still have the envelope and note that accompanied this disk and be able to tell me how you came by it, I might be interested.”

Her expression brightened.

Time passed at a snail’s pace when a woman was bored stiff.

Mackenzie plopped back into her recliner, the latest Patricia Cornwell novel in her lap. She’d tried reading it but hadn’t been able to lose herself in the plot since her mind remained focused on a real case. If only real murder could be wrapped up as fast and easily as fiction.

She checked the clock. Again. Wondered briefly whether the hands had moved a millimeter and debated over checking the batteries.

Rafe had yet to call or stop by. She didn’t know whether to be understanding, frustrated, or pissed about that.

She’d called L.I. again, reaching Gabe this time, only to be told the programmers had found nothing in the computer code to suggest Carl Shumaker had put in a backdoor to the system.

Luc was going through Carl’s files on his PC at work but so far had nothing to report either.

Maybe Cooper was right. She had been chasing her tail, and now she had everyone else running around in circles. She expected him to call any moment to let her know he was back to square one.

“Damn it.” There had to be something that could tie this whole thing together. She’d really thought she’d found it, but if Shumaker hadn’t done the deed, then...

The phone rang, and Mackenzie vaulted out of the chair to grab for the receiver.

“Hello?”

“You sound eager, darling. You weren’t waiting by the phone, were you?”

“Uh. No,” she lied.

“I see.”

She cringed at hearing the amusement in Rafe’s voice.

“It’s tough to let go of the reins, isn’t it?”

Did the man have to be so perceptive? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just relaxing here, reading a book when the phone startled me.”

“Uh hmm.”

So what if she was a pathetic liar. “Okay, so I’m going stir crazy here with nothing to do.”

“Would you like me to rearrange my schedule? I could pick you up for dinner, or we could dine in.”

As much as she wanted to say yes, pride kept her from accepting. “No, I’ll be all right. I’m a big girl. Besides, you’ve had your hands full. I caught your show on the news earlier.”

“Ah yes. I had a nice talk with Evalyn Drake afterward.”

“I bet you did.”

“She received a copy of the video on disk.”

Mackenzie cursed.

“She’s agreed to assist us in determining the origin of the video. It was given to her after a press conference. I’ve asked for the raw news footage. Maybe they picked up something in the background.”

She tucked her feet under her after she returned to the recliner. “Oh?”

“Drake’s sharp, and suspicious of spoon-fed information. She doesn’t like to be used.” His voice held a hint of admiration. “You made quite an impression on her the first time you met.”

“Huh. I should chew out reporters more often then.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yes, well, she agreed to hold off on the tape, but requests an exclusive with you whenever you...resurface.”

Mackenzie frowned. “It’s Cooper’s case now. I’m suspended, remember? I can’t make any promises.”

“And she can’t give any assurances that other stations aren’t privy to the video either. However, the video isn’t enough, and she knows that. I just thought you should know.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Are you okay? I also called to tell you I’d be working late, but if you need me...”

She twisted the phone cord around her index finger. “No. You go ahead. I’ll be fine. By the way, did you have someone from Stone Corp. call Cooper with a tip on the potential backdoor?”

A pause. “Why would you think that?”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “I thought so. Thanks, Rafe.”

“Anytime, Detective. I’ll see you soon.”

Her smile spread into a grin as she hung up the phone.

A few hours later, after raiding her near-empty refrigerator, she was calling for a pizza delivery when her doorbell rang.

A quick peek and she opened the door to see Cooper standing in the hall.

“Good, you’re home. Grab your jacket. Let’s go.”