Rogue Page 48

“How do you want us to handle the burial?” my father asked.

Wes sighed. “We’ll come get him. I’ll call you back with the flight information once I make the reservations.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will. Thanks, Greg.”

My father hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his stomach, eyes closed. He looked angry. And very, very tired. “Okay, Vic, Owen, tell us what happened.”

Vic looked at Owen and shrugged, so Owen started, shifting again on the couch to face our Alpha, who didn’t even open his eyes. “There’s not much to tell. The body was just where the caller said it would be. He was covered in leaves and loose dirt, so we couldn’t see his face at first, but we knew it was Jamey right away. From his scent.” Owen glanced at Vic again before continuing. “We could smell her, too. This time we knew what to look for from the scent. And it was fresh.”

“Injuries?” my father asked, his eyes still closed.

Owen curled the brim of his hat in both hands. “Nothin’ but the broken neck, just like the others.”

My father nodded, acknowledging the information, but before he could say anything else, the clicking of my mother’s heels sounded in the hallway, accompanied by the rich aroma of good coffee.

Seconds later she appeared in the doorway, carrying a silver tray ful of steaming mugs. Without a word, she crossed the room and set the tray on one corner of my father’s desk, then began passing out individual cups.

In that moment, as I accepted a fresh mug of coffee—loaded with sugar and vanilla-flavored creamer, just the way I liked it—I could have kissed my mother. Even though she’d finished cleaning the kitchen before joining the important meeting. Even though she’d just served drinks from a silver tray to a room ful of mostly men. And even though she’d done it in a demure skirt and two-inch heels.

At the moment, I was too grateful for the caffeine to ruin her nice gesture by tel ing her we were perfectly capable of getting our own coffee. So, I just smiled and thanked her. And gave myself a mental pat on the back for passing up an opportunity to argue with my mother and gloat over the fact that I hadn’t grown up to be just like her.

“Anything else?” my father asked Vic, nodding at my mother in thanks as he took the mug she offered. She nodded back and accepted the seat on the couch that Parker—ever the gentleman—gave up for her.

Owen nodded as Parker settled onto the floor at his feet. My father’s armchair was empty, but none of us would have dared sit in it. “There was a third scent on Jamey’s body. A stray. Neither of us recognized it.”

He glanced around the room, taking in our individual reactions. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. He probably just came into contact with a stray at some point today.”

Marc frowned and set his mug on the end table to his right. “Are you sure it wasn’t Harper’s scent?” he asked, and I knew what he was thinking. Instead of reporting Robert Harper’s indiscretions, Kevin had helped cover them up, and as much as I hated to consider it, we couldn’t ignore the possibility that Jamey had been doing something similar.

Maybe that was why my father had withheld information from Jamey’s brother.

“We’re sure,” Vic said. “We all got a good whiff of Harper last night, and this definitely wasn’t him.”

My father sat up straight, listening to the crunch of Michael’s tires on gravel out front. A dark frown settled over his face as he stood and set his half-empty coffee mug on his desk blotter. “This is the third time this rogue tabby has killed someone in our territory in as many days, and now that she’s gone after a Pride cat, the Council can no longer pretend she’s doing us a favor.”

He popped the knuckles of his right hand, and the resulting crack seemed to echo throughout the room. “I can get enough votes for a combined effort now. The other Alphas will have to do something to prove they care. But the Council will resist being forced into action, and every minute they spend dragging their heels and pointing fingers is another minute added to the tabby’s head start. She’s hunting in our territory, and we can’t afford to wait on the Council to find her.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “So…we’re going to apprise them of the situation, as we’re obligated to do. Then, while they twiddle their thumbs, we’re going after her on our own.” He paused, glancing at each of us individually, determination etched into every line of his face. “Does everyone understand?”

Hell yeah, we understood! Our Alpha was going vigilante. As the tips of my fingers began to tingle with excitement, I realized that for the first time in years, I was truly pleased to call myself my father’s daughter.

Chapter Fifteen

Outside, my father and Michael marched down the gravel driveway side by side, their backs illuminated only by the front porch light because the moon and most of the stars were hidden by a thick covering of clouds. The rest of us trailed behind them. Except for my mother, who’d stayed behind.

Clad in his typical off-work uniform of khaki slacks and a navy polo shirt, Michael listened without a word as our father went over the specifics of the case for him. His pace never slowed, and his step never faltered—until he heard about Jamey Gardner. The instant he heard Jamey’s name, he seemed to trip over nothing, regaining his usual grace and poise an instant later. He and Jamey had been childhood friends, not quite as close as Jace and Ethan, but more than just acquaintances.

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