[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions (10 page)

She settled back in her chair and waited for his move.

“Well, I was just wondering what you’d heard,” he responded, dodging her question.

“You’re avoiding me, Torger. What exactly am I supposed to tell you if you guys haven’t told us anything?”
Take that, wolfie.

Torger’s rich chuckle filled the earpiece and sent ripples of warmth through her body. This time she did move around in her chair.

“Touché.
To be honest and this is totally off the record…” He paused, which caused her to press the phone closer to her ear in hopes of hearing more of what he was doing, wherever he was. “We don’t have anything. No leads. Nothing has panned out. I’m at my wit’s end. I want to know what you guys have found out. You have access to information that we don’t.”

She preened at his acknowledgment that the reporters could help rather than get in the way. “Well thank you for not calling me a nuisance. To be honest, we haven’t heard anything. All is silent on this front. Up until this morning when Muffy Evanson was murdered, we didn’t have movement.” She nibbled on her bottom lip as she tried to decide whether or not to share her suspicions with him. Isy didn’t want to be called crazy, especially by a guy she was so attracted to. Torger was firm and fair; he’d never made her feel stupid or too much of a bother. Although he acted annoyed when dealing with her, he didn’t try to push her too far away and always told her exclusives off the record that would give them the scoop before anyone else.

“What are you thinking?” It was as if he’d read her mind and heard her debate.

She sighed. “How do you do that?” Isy took a moment to lick her dry lips and then told him what was bothering her. “I did an interview with Evanson today and it just didn’t feel right. He bullied us to ask basic questions, nothing hard hitting. It would be normal if it just didn’t feel like he was setting himself up during that interview for an attack on Draven.”

“I haven’t seen the interview yet. So, I have no clue what to think, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Evanson is the Council’s man on the ground if they want someone other than Draven in office. It kind of strikes me that the killer would murder Muffy, especially with the placement of the body. It wasn’t dumped but everything else screams the usual MO. So, I’m not sure what to say on that front.”

She did. “Which makes me wonder, was she really murdered by the serial killer or was
this a
cover-up to blame on the killer?” Isy let that idea sit between them. No one wanted to say it, but she knew that other reporters were thinking it.

“But why kill her?” Torger asked.

“Because she either discovered something or they needed her out of the way.” So far, he hadn’t called her crazy, which made her feel secure in her ideas.

“Okay, but what exactly did she discover? I suppose you’ve heard the gossip about the Evansons?” The question was asked lightly but she could hear how serious Torger was.

She decided to just go for it. “Yup, his mistress is his assistant. Maybe she and the missus had an argument, things got out of hand, and Muffy was killed, and they had to cover it up. But why is there nothing to indicate foul play? They must have really done a fabulous clean up job.” Isy hated to tack that last bit on but knew that if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to respect herself. The question of whether there was a cover-up going on had to be asked.

Another soft creak of leather before Torger answered. “Plausible but we’d need probable cause to get a warrant, and the public would riot if we didn’t find anything. Muffy was very well loved, and if they thought we were desecrating her memory and putting Evanson through the wringer, we’d be strung up. They’re really taking her death hard. We’d have to tread lightly and don’t think that we wouldn’t get ripped a new one by Draven if we came up empty handed. From what I understand Evanson is really laying on the grieving widower card thick.”

Isy gave a disgusted snort. “You should have read his statement to the public about the death of his wife. I mean
really
. I thought I was going to throw up.”

Torger laughed, the sound was full-bodied and lush, that turned from gentle warmth into a full on fire. Her lips tugged up into a smile and she felt safe and comfortable, like sitting in front of the hearth on a cold winter’s night with a cup of hot cocoa. She loved the sound and wanted to hear more of it.

“I probably would have. I don’t have much tolerance for bullshit lately, not even Draven’s politics,” Torger confessed.

That small admission made her feel included in his inner circle. She was honored by it.

“I love the guy dearly and he’s one of my best friends but the pressure is getting to him. Anyway, what is the assistant? Is she a shifter? If she’s a vamp, it would explain no other injuries. What do you think?” There was a tapping sound that made her nervous.

“I don’t know. I can check it out. I never really paid much attention to his staff. He sort of sucked up all the air in the room, you know? I can find out. Do you want me to work on this angle? Maybe it will help with the serial killer line.” She prayed he’d let her help him.
Please. Please. Please gods, if you’re listening, let him put me on the case.

“Sure. I need all the help I can get. We’ve run into so many walls, I’m starting to think I’m imagining all of this. Thanks.” A male voice calling him bro could be heard in the background.

Torger had a brother?
She filed this piece of information away to examine later.

“Gotta go, family is demanding my attention.
Talk to you later.” He hung up, leaving her with a buzz of warmth. Any pain had melted away. The stairs didn’t look so intimidating, and she could feel a new boundless energy surging through her. Isy was ready to work. She had an idea on how to get more info about Evanson and his staff, especially his assistant. And the great part was it wouldn’t make that vein in Bob’s forehead throb as he tried to control his temper.

* * * *

Torger hung up the phone feeling a bit better about their prospects of finding out more information, at least on one case.

“Bro?
We don’t have anything else to eat, besides steak. Can I order pizza?” Urban continued to type one handed and didn’t look up. “Thanks, I’ll just use your credit card.”

Torger stood up. “Whoa, whoa, didn’t you just eat an hour ago, and why the hell are you using my card? What’s wrong with your plastic?”

“’Cause you’re the host. ‘
Sides I think I found something.” Urban left the room without telling him anything.

Torger gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to go after his brother and beat the crap out of him. Despite the conversation with Isy he still didn’t feel too sure that they would find any leads. With deep breaths, he gained control over his temper and followed
Urban
out to the kitchen where his brother continued to type one handed while holding a phone with the other.

He seemed to be only ordering food for him.
“Yeah, three large pizzas, the meat lovers.
Extra pepperoni and sausage, sure throw in breadsticks and some of that dessert. Uh huh, fifteen minutes?
Awesome.
Thanks.” Urban hung up and beamed at Torger. “Don’t worry. I didn’t forget about you.”

Torger rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Okay what did you find?”

“I called in a favor with a friend—we won’t talk about it—but anyway, some of these victims were lured here. They won a contest; hotel, airfare or gas or train fare was paid for, and they were given five thousand dollars in prize money. The ones that you found when Jackal came to town weren’t contest winners, but came of their own freewill. Muffy Evanson is the only deviation. I don’t have all the details, but this sheds some light on the case, right? The killer lured his or her victims here via the contest. I still have to find out if the latest victim is connected to the contest but we have a lead. And I’m still tracking the money on how everything was paid. Isn’t that great, bro?”

Torger’s head hurt. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what Urban was telling him. “So, this really is a conspiracy.
Great.
I have a headache.”

“Could be.
We need more pieces to this puzzle. Check with Jagger, maybe that’s why he hasn’t heard anything. The contest wouldn’t look fishy to anyone. Cities hold them all the time to lure in vacationers. Now, all we have to do is check into the websites that they used to enter the contests and find out who’s behind them, as well as who paid out and follow the money.” Urban turned to his laptop and began to type away.

Torger tried to understand why anyone would want to do what was suggested. First Urban, and now Isy, were telling him that this could be a setup of some kind? In all his years as Police Chief everything had made sense. They’d never had a lot of crime to begin with and now this. He sank down into a chair. “And where does that leave the theory about Draven and possible assassinations?”

Urban shrugged. “Well, there are lots of VIPs in this town to begin with, starting with Draven, you and several others. We have to consider all options. It could be a heavily plotted, deeply intricate plan that involves many players.” His brother drained his coffee and held up his mug. “More.
Please.”

Torger got up to make more java. “Why can’t things be simple? I’ll contact Jagger to put him on this line of thought. Maybe this time he’ll have more luck.” Torger’s phone rang.

“Torger.”
He prayed that this wouldn’t be another body or more bad news.

“It’s Jagger. You got a minute. I have an idea,” the vampire said.

Speak of the devil.
“Sure, just me and my brother.
Come on over. We’re talking the case.”

Jagger hung up and Torger resisted the urge to swear. The vampire never said good-bye or anything. Just as the timer on the coffeemaker dinged, the doorbell sounded.
“Son of a bitch.”
Torger went to the front door and opened it. Jagger stood before him looking like the Prince of Darkness in leather and pale skin. Without bothering to ask for entrance, Jagger just brushed past him and headed into the kitchen. Torger resisted the urge to growl at him. “Well, come on in. Make yourself at home. Have some coffee.”

He followed Jagger into the kitchen to find the vampire doing just that.

“Already did that.” He sipped the brew slowly and looked at Torger.

“Son of a bitch.”
Torger shook his head and grabbed another mug, poured him and
Urban
more java and sat down. Jagger continued to stand near the counter drinking his coffee and looking over both men. “You gonna stand there or join us?”

“Do you have anything to eat?” Jagger didn’t smile or answer the question. He just went over to the fridge and pulled it open. “Jesus, don’t you have anything besides meat?”

“Please, make yourself at home, look in my fridge,
eat
my brother.” Torger gestured toward Urban.

“Hey!” the other werewolf protested.

“That’s disgusting. I’m not a cannibal.” He withdrew a loaf of bread and last night’s baked ham. “Besides, he’s probably too stringy. All that lean muscle.”

“Hey! I can hear you, you know?” Urban uttered.

Torger stifled a laugh.

“So what are we doing besides forming a knitting circle? I can crochet a mean scarf, and I heard Draven can make some mittens,” Jagger said as he sliced the ham.

Torger tried to picture that and couldn’t. “Sorry, I don’t have any blood on hand for you,” he said instead.

“Already fed tonight.
Let’s talk about the case. So what do you have for me?” Jagger put away the rest of the ham and bread and cleaned off the cutting board and knife before sitting down next to Torger.

Urban filled him in while he typed away on the keyboard. “I have to say, it’s a pretty pickle you got here. I don’t have all the pieces but at least we have a start. The question is what’s he or she doing with the blood? Clothing can be for trophies but blood?”