Outcast (Supernaturals Book 2) (15 page)

I offered her the opportunity to move in with me, but she refused. She felt we hadn’t been together long enough to move in together, and we weren’t spending enough time together to truly get to know each other any more than we already did. Nearly every time we planned a date, something went wrong. And we hadn’t had sex since her sister’s wedding. Most days we were too exhausted by the time we saw each other that we ended up passing out, and on the rare occasions we tried, strange things interrupted us which only further convinced us that someone was watching us and had Leigh worried that the fates were warning us to stay away from each other—a fear I was having a hard time squashing.

The next time I spoke with her father, Mr. Alexander said he couldn’t find any evidence that anyone in the pack had anything to do with what was happening to us in Washington. He dodged the question of Daniel’s pack when I asked if he had called them, but I knew I would lose my temper if I pushed the issue, so, for the time being, I had let it go.

The pack I was staying with helped me patrol the city and watch over Leigh, but none of us saw, heard, or smelled anything to hint at who was terrorizing us which told me that a witch was definitely involved. Only witches could mask themselves so easily. On many occasions, a pack member or I would be outside Leigh’s home or work when something happened, and we hadn’t been able to sense a thing. The pack didn’t know of any witches in the area, so we didn’t have any contacts to request help from in that department.

Once the story—or a version of the story—of what happened to Dimitri with the witch’s curse got out, most shifters were leery about witches and most witches made it a point to stay away from shifters, making it damn near impossible for me to find one. We knew that another witch had aided in helping to find him, but that didn’t ease anyone’s feelings on the matter.

I had hoped that once Mr. Alexander had talked to Daniel’s pack, we could also request the aid of the witch who had helped Dimitri, but since he hadn’t contacted them, we had no one. I would contact them myself if need be, but considering how low on the totem pole I was with my own pack, my approaching an alpha of a pack that wasn’t my own and requesting a favor probably would not go over well and could possibly start a war between my pack and theirs. I wouldn’t do that, not when all the mystery person or persons were doing were harassing us. If things escalated, I’d have to though.

On more than one occasion, I thought about telling Leigh the truth about the supernatural world in the hopes that that would change her mind about going home to Tennessee or, at the very least, about moving in with me—both suggestions I made often to her annoyance. As she was my mate, it was my responsibility to take care of her, but I knew she was too independent for me to use that as a persuasion tactic. She would fight me to spite me if I said something like that to her.

No matter what she said or how much she protested though, I could tell things were getting to her. Our lack of a physical relationship alone was making her grouchy and me testy. The only way I was going to be able to have her was if I found out who was doing this and put a stop to it.

Chapter 17 ~ Explosion

~~~~Ryan~~~

A month almost to the day that I received a phone call from Leigh about the death of her elderly friend, I received another call from my mate. This time when she called she wasn’t crying out of sorrow but out of anger. Somehow, someone had stolen her purse and emptied her bank account all while she was at work. She was in the back room of the bookstore going through surveillance footage and cursing like a teenager while she told me what happened.

The footage showed her locking her bag away in one of the filing cabinet drawers designated for personal belongings. The cameras didn’t show anyone else approaching the cabinet until she did eight hours later at the end of her shift. There didn’t seem to be any evidence that someone had tampered with the footage or the drawer in which she had stowed her purse. The bank showed that all of her money, which wasn’t much at that time, was withdrawn from two separate locations, but none of those cameras caught anything either.

I met her at the store and helped her deal with the police and the bank. They changed all of her PINs and blocked anyone from using her card and checks, and I transferred money into her account for her. She complained, but having no other choice, she took the money. I didn’t tell her most of it was from her father.

That night I convinced her to pack some of her stuff and come stay with me for a while. Within a week, I had talked her into moving in with me permanently. Her landlord wasn’t happy about it at first but took the money I offered her to let Leigh out of her lease.

We still weren’t sleeping together, but at that moment it was because it was that time of the month for her and a particularly bad one which she assumed was due to stress, but I worried was due to magic. Either way, she was an emotional basket case with all that had been going on, and I could do nothing to help her aside from hold her every night.

There wasn’t time to get comfortable in our new life together in my apartment, though, because not long after someone emptied her bank account, someone burned down the bookstore she worked at, and Leigh decided she wasn’t safe in Washington anymore. Finally, she agreed to my subtle hints that we should go back to Tennessee.

The fire happened on a Tuesday night. Leigh and two other employees had worked the afternoon shift that day. The store closed at nine, and it usually took them between fifteen and thirty minutes to leave, depending on the condition of the store. She had gotten about two blocks from the store when one of the employees that had been with her that night sent her a text asking if she would come back to the store because the employee had left something in the office and really needed it. Leigh had graciously turned around and gone back.

“No one’s here,” she said into her Bluetooth. I had called her just as she was pulling back into the parking lot to see how much longer she would be and what she wanted for supper.

“Give her a minute. She might be further away than you were or got caught up in traffic,” I said offhandedly.

“I don’t know. Something feels off,” she said, and the tone of her voice had me up and pacing the room.

“What do you mean, ‘something feels off’? Is there someone there? Does it look like someone has broken into the building?” I asked, putting on my shoes, readying myself to leave if I needed to do so quickly.

“I don’t know. Let me text her back and see how much longer she’s going to be.”

“I’m coming to get you.”

“Wait. It might be nothing, but...”

“Leigh, what’s wrong?”

“Ryan, where are you?”

“I’m at the apartment. Do you need me to come there?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m coming…” For a second, everything was quiet, then a loud boom burst through the phone. I was out of the house and in my vehicle in no time, all the while screaming her name into the phone. When she didn’t answer after the third scream, I hung up and called the police.

The cops and a few members of the local pack showed up at the scene just as I did. The pack members discretely searched the area in animal form while I rushed to Leigh, who was leaning against the side of her car looking at the blazing building.

“Ms. Ms. Are you all right?” a female paramedic was asking her when I reached the two.

“Is she hurt?” I asked, kneeling down beside Leigh.

“I’m not sure yet,” the woman said. “Ms.?” the woman said again.

“Leigh, honey, are you hurt?” I asked her, lightly touching her forearm, the only spot I could see that wasn’t covered in ash or blood.

“Do you know what happened here, sir,” a police officer who had come up behind us asked me.

“No, not really,” I said, not looking up at him. “I was on the phone with her. She said she received a text from a coworker stating that she’d left something in the store and wanted to know if Leigh could come back to the store and let her in to get it. When Leigh got here, she said the girl wasn’t here. She was texting the girl to see how long she would be when I heard the explosion. I called for Leigh. She didn’t answer. I hung up and called you guys.”

“I should have known you two would be involved,” another cop, who I hadn’t heard approach, said. I turned to glare at Officer Dawson, then turned back to Leigh, who looked as if she was snapping out of her daze. Officer Dawson wasn’t the person I wanted to see right then as he was starting to treat Leigh and I as if we were the bad guys in all of this.

“Ryan?” she asked, scanning the faces of those of us who were surrounding her.

“I’m here, baby. Are you hurt?” I asked, moving in closer to her.

“I hit my head,” she said, touching the bleeding spot. “I think I fell.”

“Does anything else hurt?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.”

Two more paramedics came over, lifted her onto a gurney, and loaded her into an ambulance. I started towards my vehicle.

“Wait a minute, Mr. Hart. I have questions,” the unwanted police officer said.

“So do I,” I said. He glared at me. “Look, I told the other officer all I know. I’m meeting Leigh at the hospital. You can come there and ask more questions, if you like, when Leigh is able to talk.”

He started to protest, but I got in and cranked the engine. Before I was out of the parking lot, I was on the phone with Dave and Danielle. I had wanted to keep them out of things, but since Mr. Alexander wasn’t much more than financial help, I would have to burden them. Perhaps Dave would call Daniel Sullivan for me. It was one thing if I called to ask to join the pack; it was another for me to ask for assistance with that situation. Daniel wasn’t my alpha and would probably be a bit leery about helping me without the Council’s consent. Dave could be convincing when he chose. I hoped he could press upon the man the importance of finding out who was doing this to us.

The pack I was staying with was doing what they could, but they were small—about thirty total—and didn’t have the magical connection Daniel would have to be of any real benefit, not that I didn’t appreciate what they were doing for me, but I knew they were ready for me to go, so they could have their peaceful lives back, and I didn’t blame them.

Danielle cried as I gave them a shortened version of what was going on and asked them to contact the Sullivan pack. I needed their witch’s help, and I needed a safe place to take Leigh if I couldn’t figure out who was behind all of this.

“I’ll make the call,” Dave said without hesitation.

“Bring my sister home,” Danielle said at the same time.

“Thank you,” I said to Dave. “And I will. As soon as the hospital releases her and we are free to leave town, I’m taking her to your parents’ home. They still own a house outside pack territory, don’t they?”

“Yes. I’ll call them to let them know what happened and to tell them that the two of you will be staying there for a while. They’re renting a house inside Pine Hollow while their new house is under construction—per the stipulation of our marriage,” Danielle said with more than a hint of disgust. “You call us the instant she is home and safe. I want to talk to my sister.”

“I will. I need to go. The doctors are about to go in to see Leigh, and I want to be in there when they do,” I said. I hadn’t gone into her room while on the phone with Danielle and Dave because Leigh would have asked to talk to her sister, which would only further upset both women.

“Okay. Give her my love,” Danielle said through sobs.

“I will.”

I hung up and followed the female doctor into Leigh’s room. After a thorough examination, the doctor said all that was wrong with Leigh was a mild concussion and a few scrapes, scratches and bruises, some of which needed stitches and all looked bad and would take forever to heal, but none were life threatening. As we waited for her discharge papers, Officer Miles Dawson knocked on the door.

“Can I speak to you for a minute, Ms. Alexander?” he asked, not acknowledging me.

Leigh looked to me for approval.

“She can, but make it quick. The doctor will be back shortly with her discharge papers, and I would like to get her home,” I said, standing my ground beside Leigh’s bed.

“I won’t take up much of your time. Ms. Alexander, can you tell me what happened tonight?”

“I don’t know much. I closed the store like normal. We don’t drop deposits at night, so all three of us—me and two other employees—went our separate ways. I got about two blocks from the store when Maggie sent me a text.”

“Who is Maggie?” Officer Dawson asked.

“Maggie Saint. She’s one of our cashiers. Only I don’t think she sent the text.”

“Why not?” both the officer and I asked at the same time.

“When I got to the store, no one was there. I drove around the parking lot and passed the front of the building but saw nothing. I checked my phone to make sure I had read the message correctly. The text came from Maggie’s number, but it didn’t have her trademark “~~Love you lots~~” signature at the end of the message. She has that programmed into her phone. It appears at the end of every text she sends no matter who she sends it to.

“I was on my headset talking to Ryan at the time the message came through, so I didn’t notice it wasn’t there. When I noticed the signature was missing, I sent her a text asking how long she was going to be. The next message I received from her asked me what I was talking about and had the ‘Love you lots’ at the end. At that second, I knew something was wrong, so I parked my car. I asked Ryan where he was. He said at the apartment. I had walked around to the other side of my car when the building exploded. I hit my head on something and the next thing I know the paramedics and Ryan and you were there.”

The officer hastily took notes, then asked to see our phones. Leigh showed him the messages and her outgoing call to me. I showed him where she had called me and where I called the police. As the man wrote down that information and asked if he could take screen shots of it all and send it to himself, the doctor came in and had us sign some paperwork.

When the doctor left, Officer Dawson handed us our phones and withdrew his own. “I need to show the two of you a photo. Mind you, it isn’t a very pleasant photo even with most of the more horrific aspects hidden, but I need to know if either of you recognizes the person in the photo.”

We nodded at him as if we had a choice in the matter.

He held his phone out to Leigh first, and she studied it for a long moment before shaking her head no. He held it out to me next. The image was of a young man in his mid-thirties. His hair was dark, but that could have simply been all the blood in it. The face was pretty disfigured, but he almost looked like someone I knew.

Seeing the contemplative look on my face, the officer asked, “Do you know this man, Mr. Hart?”

“Maybe,” I said, turning my phone back on. “He looks like a guy I know from back home. Hold on.”

I wasn’t friends with Jacob Henley, considering how much older than I he was. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but since shifters age so slowly, I was an infant compared to him. I swiped through the many photos I had on my phone to one of the wedding photos. I had snuck a picture of Leigh before the reception and before she had seen me. She was a bit away from the camera. Off to the side of her and more in the forefront was a group of men standing in a circle talking. Jacob was one of them.

“The man on your phone could be this man, Jacob Henley. The two vaguely resemble each other.” I showed the picture to the police officer as I continued. “I don’t know him very well and don’t know why he would be here, let alone burning down Leigh’s place of employment.”

“Send me that photo, please,” he said while writing Jacob’s name down.

“And you say you don’t know him.”

“Not really. My hometown is small, so we all know each other roughly by name and reputation, but I probably haven’t said more than twenty words to the man my entire life.”

“Where was that picture taken?”

“My best friend’s wedding. Dave Carmichael. He married Leigh’s sister Danielle a few months back.”

“He was at your sister’s wedding, yet you don’t know him?” Officer Dawson asked Leigh. His tone suggested he didn’t believe us.