[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions (12 page)

“Well, the ME looked over Muffy Evanson’s body and, well, you’ll love this—her throat was slit and the healing was sloppy. So we’re not dealing with a vampire. I don’t know how the hell he got the clout to get the official report changed, but she was killed. We have to keep it quiet it though.” Jagger shook his head and ate his meal.

Torger swore. His fingers itched to call Isy and Draven. “Do you think Draven knows about the cover-up?”

Jagger was quiet for far too long. It made Torger uncomfortable. Anger surged, red hot and scorching, spreading up through his chest to his throat where it came out in a growl.
“Motherfucking politicians.”
He slipped out his phone and speed dialed Isy. Torger didn’t care what kind of shit storm he caused. He refused to be part of a cover-up. This could endanger more lives and embolden the real serial killer.

She answered on the first ring. He ignored Jagger and Urban’s protests. “Isy, I have a scoop for you. Can you swing by my cabin?” The words came in a rush before he could get his thoughts clear.

Shit!
He wanted to take back the invitation immediately. She would be meeting his brother and he’d never hear the end of it from Jagger.

“I’d love to! I have to convince Bill to let me invade the Evanson compound. I can’t wait to see what’s really going on in there.” She practically purred the words. Her excitement came through the phone loud and clear. His wolf sat up, tail wagging, eagerness showing in its eyes. Thoughts of handcuffs and spankings filled his head as blood surged to his cock. The shaft filled with liquid life as it tented his fly, pressing against the metal and denim with the need to break free. Isy hung up before he could say anything. All his words were choked in his throat as arousal took over his body.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Jagger demanded as he threw away his trash.

“His cock was doing the thinking; so was his anger.” Urban chuckled and brought out more beers. He offered one to Jagger who took it with a nod.

Both men shook their heads while Torger got his body under control, or at least some semblance of command.

“I can smell his need; feel it on my skin. I might need to do a midnight run tonight to burn off my own arousal.” Urban’s husky voice came from a distance, and guilt threw cold water on Torger’s simmering need.

Torger swallowed, feeling like an idiot. “Sorry, bro. Really, I just got so caught up in…”

Jagger held up a hand. “No need to explain. I don’t like it either. Trust me. But Draven felt that it would be better to make everyone think that it was the killer. He hoped to lure the bastard out and end things once and for all. I can’t say I blame him. But what can you do when you’re running into walls, well, until now.”

Torger sank down into a chair. “He should have given us some time. Now, we’re really under the gun. Let me check in with Detective Santa Rosa. Hopefully she’ll have found something to go on.” He dialed the Detective’s number. It went straight to voice mail. After leaving a message, he checked in at the police station. The reporters were camped out waiting for news. He gave instructions on what to tell them and organized a press conference for around noon the next day. As much as he hated to, he had to tell the press something.

Once all the calls were done, he turned to his brother and friend. “Okay, boys what do I tell them?”

The doorbell rang and a pang echoed through his heart; it sped up and his palms became sweaty. “Shit.” Torger got up and answered the door but felt as if he was going to his doom. Isy wouldn’t give away the game but still, she was part of the problem, wasn’t she? For all the trust he had in her, she had to give her readers and viewers some information. When he opened the door, there was a sparkle in her eye he didn’t trust. Her excitement jumped from her to him; it was infectious. She didn’t bother asking for an invitation and brushed past him. Her hair was
a bright
neon pink that almost blinded him. Instead of commenting, he followed her and found she’d made a beeline to the kitchen where she helped herself to a mug of coffee. Her stomach rumbled.

“Don’t worry, brought my own food.” Isy made herself even more at home by pulling out a baggie of pizza slices and grabbing a plate from the drain board. She put the food on the platter and slid it into the microwave, then sat down. She held out her hand to Urban first. “Hi. Isadora Jones.”

Urban had a shit eating grin on his face as he shook her hand. “Urban, Tor’s brother.
Nice to meet you, Isy.”

She blinked but didn’t comment. Isy turned to Jagger and nodded but said nothing. He returned the gesture and settled against the back of his chair. Tor grabbed a seat from the living room and settled down between Urban and Isy. He recounted what’d they’d found out and waited for her to blow a gasket. Instead, she grabbed her food when it was done re-heating and settled down, coffee close at hand.
“Figured as much.
The Council is shitting bricks and Muffy’s murder doesn’t help matters. I had to pull a lot of strings, but Bill’s letting me interview Evanson in his home.” This time it was her turn to have a shit eating grin on her face. “We’ll do it after your press conference to give him time to respond. It is an election year after all.”

Speech left Torger. In a matter of hours, she’d managed to setup a way to get into the house and investigate without much hassle. She continued talking. “Now that I’ve met your brother, I figure he can pose as a sound tech—ours is on maternity leave—and snoop around for the perfect room for the interview. Maybe snoop around the room that Muffy was killed in? I’m sure it’s been scrubbed spotless but still, they could be sloppy.”

She shrugged and began eating while the men stared at her. Isy’d pushed them further than they’d been yet. Torger turned his attention toward Isy, about to ask her opinion on the contests. She spoke. “As to the contests, I have to say I’ve heard of shady competitions to lure in tourists but this is new. I’ll talk to my sources in the Tourist Board to get the dirt, but I doubt they know anything about it. Which means it’s not
official
or from them.”

“So you think someone is…what? Forging official’s signatures and holding illegal contests to enable the killer?” Jagger sounded skeptical.

“That could happen, but not to feed the murderer’s
need
. It’s a byproduct. They invite tourists and the killer gets new victims. One doesn’t necessarily lead to two in this case; it just happens. Let’s be honest. If the killer is a local and he or she killed locals, everyone would know it. But if they killed vacationers, who’d identify them?”

Urban ran a hand over his face. Torger could feel the beginnings of another headache. “So what if the killer is a local and killed a local, everyone would know it?
How?”

“Um, you do realize you live in the biggest gossip hub in the whole United States? No one’s business is secure for long. How do you think everyone found out about Rose and Draven after only a few hours?
Gossips.
I knew about them within a half an hour of her leaving his office after their first meeting. We all knew. It’s what makes this town so wonderful for info. Someone has to have seen something. The problem is if the
vics
are vacationers, locals don’t care. They’re more interested in what goes on with the people who actually live here. Besides, out-of-towners are too loud, get drunk and throw up everywhere, and act like star struck groupies when they meet real, live monsters of myth.” She made a face.

Torger could understand that. “Okay,
which explains why no one comes forward.
They’re so disgusted with all the tourists that they just don’t watch out for them when they’re here, even now.”

“Why should they?” Urban asked. “The tourists are only here for a week at the most. Unless they’re moving here, Dravenites don’t care. I can see the point. The tourists are the police’s concern.”

Torger became annoyed at that statement.
“Why us?”

Jagger snorted. “’Cause you keep the peace and the newbies are raising hell, so yeah, it’s on you guys to handle them if they get too out of hand. We need a section of the Tourist Board to help show the tourists how to act. I’ve been suggesting that for years but no one cares, so I just don’t say it anymore.” He took a sip of beer.

Torger began to see the full picture. “So that’s why they’re so pissed and pressed for information. We’re supposed to handle the out-of-towners. Okay, I can see that, but what do we do about the problem now? The killer is still out there.”

“Yeah, but now you know.” Isy scooted her chair closer to the table. Her leg brushed his, sending a warm tendril up his thigh, straight to his groin.

His thoughts scattered and he ignored the sensation.
Now now,
later I’ll deal with my attraction to her
, he told himself. Aloud he refocused his thoughts to their discussion and said, “How does
this change things
? Do we have to orchestrate the buddy system?” He saw that instituting this line of action would cause some issues but in the long run, it would help.

“The residents would be pissed off, having their lives disrupted, by having to find a buddy and make sure they are all on schedule. It would especially freak out the parents. Plus, the Council would find it both amusing and a show of Draven’s inability to handle the situation, which would put more pressure on him. And I really don’t need him to ride my ass any harder than he already is.”

Jagger snorted. “Let me check with my contacts in the underground about these contests. I have to check in with the old man anyway.” He rose and left without saying good-bye.

“Yeah,” Urban yawned. “I’ve got some snooping to do and then I’ll hit the hay. Nice meeting you, Isy.” He grabbed his laptop, the food, and left the kitchen.

Now it was only Torger and Isy. He wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t said she needed to leave. Instead, she’d finished off her pizza and had risen to refill her coffee cup. Silence fell between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. Seconds ticked by but neither said anything. He finished eating and she sipped her coffee. Torger resisted the urge to ask what she was thinking. It just seemed so stupid.

“Wanna walk me to my car?” She drank the rest of her coffee and stood up.

Caught off guard, all he could do was stutter.
“S-s-sure.”
He got out of his chair and walked her to the door. Opening it, the chill night wind blew against him. The soothing scents of pine, oak and night blooming flowers brushed against his face, mellowing him out and taking his arousal down a few pegs. The nearly full moon hung in the sky, silvering the forest. In the distance, an owl hooted. Torger smiled. His wolf wanted to run.

“Goddess, it’s gorgeous here. I love the woods. I have a cabin nearby, closer to the mountains.” Her lips were curled in a small grin. “Peaceful, well until my family stops by.”

Torger chuckled. “I can relate.”

“I’m sure you can.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the car. “You’re supposed to be a gentleman and walk me to the car.”

He didn’t argue and strode with her toward her vehicle parked close to the end of the drive. In the darkness, his protective wards were glowing even brighter than the moonlight. “Couldn’t wait until I’d brought down the wards, could you?”

She laughed, a musical, tinkling sound that caused sensation to shimmer through him, like castoffs from a sparkler showering his insides with warmth. She released his hand but the burn remained. “And what fun would that be?” Isy stood up on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the lips. It was small peck that sent liquid heat straight to his cock and balls.
“Until next time, sheriff.”

She gave a strand of his hair a bit of tug, unlocked her door and got into her car. With a wave, she gunned the engine and took off, leaving a spray of dust in her wake. All Torger could do was stand there and stare, wishing she’d stayed and given him more of a kiss.

Chapter Six

HOW WILL REPRESENTATIVE EVANSON’S GRIEF AFFECT HIS CHANCES AT KEEPING HIS SEAT?

While Evanson grieves, Draven’s
Crossing
waits to see what he’ll do next. –Isadora Jones, DC News Blast

Isy let Bill drone on about decorum, precedent, and sympathy like she didn’t know how to act. Urban shifted in the backseat of the Big Pink Wonder, known as her TV Van, painted a cotton candy blush color to announce her arrival anywhere, and checked his equipment for the umpteenth time. If she didn’t know he wasn’t a sound tech, she would have thought he was the perfect substitute. She felt a bit paranoid about how perfectly he played the part, giving her tech babble off the cuff about what would be perfect to use during the interview to make it seem more intimate. Now she thought she was going to suspect every substitute they brought into the studio for any reason. He was just that damn good. Things weren’t helped by him smelling like his brother either. Urban had his own unique scent but Urban was wearing his brother’s motorcycle jacket. The siblings were about the same size, with Urban being just a smidgen smaller. She wanted to snatch the jacket away from him and cuddle into it. Her lips still tingled from their kiss last night.