The Finding (5 page)

Disgusted with
himself, he stomped down the hallway, pulling his shirt off and
throwing it into the hamper. Shucking his jeans, he tossed them in
the basket as well, then fell onto his bed and stared at the
ceiling.

God, why did he
always screw up everything? Sandy deserved better than him. He
rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Letting his arms drop
lifelessly at his side, he sighed heavily; damn, but he was tired.
His eyes felt dry and scratchy so he let them drift shut as he
contemplated the day to come, and how he could make amends for his
mistake. Maybe he’d clean the house and do a bit of laundry; that
usually made her happy. Then he’d fix dinner and have it ready when
she got home from work.

A yawn escaped
him and he rolled onto his side, listening to the hissing of the
shower and the faint sounds Sandy made as she prepared for the day.
He’d just rest for a few minutes and when she came out, he’d get
up...

*****

Smythston,
Oregon...

Kane paced
their private sitting room, reading the latest report from Chicago
before crumpling the paper and throwing it to the ground.
“Damn!”

Elise looked up
from the child she was nursing and frowned. “Language, Kane. Little
ears are in the room.”

He stopped in
his tracks and looked down at the toddler who was sitting on the
floor playing with a truck. The boy was the image of himself with
dark hair and amber eyes.

Possibly
feeling his father’s gaze on him, Jacob looked up at him solemnly
before switching to an impish grin. “Damn, Daddy. Damn!”

Guiltily, Kane
shot a glance at Elise. Her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline
before lowering in disapproval. “Sorry!” He mouthed the word before
hunkering down to talk to his son.

“Jacob, you
can’t say that word when Mommy’s around.”

“Or even when
I’m not around.” Elise added from her chair by the window.

“Right.” Kane
looked at his mate and then back at his son. “Damn is a grown-up
word and I don’t want you using it.”

Jacob scowled.
“Why?”

“Because...”
Kane paused and sighed, knowing where this was heading; an
interminable conversation that featured him trying to explain and
the boy questioning his reasoning. Deciding on a new tactic, he
spoke sternly. “You cannot use that word, because I am your Alpha
and whatever I say is law.” He sat back on his heels and stared at
his son.

For a moment,
Jacob scowled back, his small chin lifting, his little brow
slightly lowered, but after a few seconds the look faltered and his
lower lip trembled. Ducking his head, the child conceded. “Okay,
Daddy.”

For a moment
Kane was pleased, both that his son had shown some spirit and that
he was learning the ways of the pack so quickly. But then, he
looked at the little bowed head and the dark curls resting against
the nape of the tiny neck. He swallowed hard, a pang of guilt
washing over him. Memories of his own father flashed before his
eyes; the bastard raging at him, hand raised to strike... Kane
shook his head to erase the image. Maybe he’d been too harsh. Jacob
was
just a little boy...

Reaching over,
Kane scooped the child into his arms, stood up and tipped him
upside down. Jacob squealed with delight apparently forgetting the
confrontation already. Kane blew raspberries against his belly
making him laugh all the louder. The happy sound filled his heart;
he never wanted his children to be afraid of him.

Tipping the boy
back upright, Kane lifted him over his head. “I love you, Jacob,
but you must listen to me and not always question my orders...” He
looked at Elise then continued. “...or your mother’s.”

Jacob nodded,
still giggling.

Setting his son
down, Kane whispered in his ear. The boy grinned and trotted
off.

“Kane, what did
you promise him?” Elise gave him a knowing look.

“Just a cookie.
Helen’s baking—”

“You know it’s
almost dinner time.” Elise lifted the baby from her breast and held
it against her shoulder, gently patting its back.

“One cookie
won’t hurt him.”

“Jacob has
Helen wrapped around his finger, just like he has everyone else. It
won’t stop with one cookie.”

Kane winced,
knowing Elise was right. Helen, the previous Alpha’s widow, had
stayed on after the man’s death, eventually taking on the role of
housekeeper and cook for those living in the Alpha house. She was
also a substitute grandmother for many of the pups and had no
qualms about spoiling them.

“Hmm... Perhaps
you’re right. Oh well, too late now.” Shrugging philosophically, he
wandered over to where Elise sat. He crouched behind her, making
faces at his daughter. She chortled and then burped loudly.
Laughing, he tapped the infant’s nose. “You’re just like your
mother.”

“Kane, I do not
burp loudly like that!”

“I meant in
looks!” He tried to explain his comment.

“Oh, so I’m
almost bald and have no teeth?” He could hear the faint trace of
laughter in her voice.

Circling around
the chair until he faced his mate, he knelt in front of her and ran
a finger down the slope of her still exposed breast. “Of course
not.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently before murmuring
against her lips. “But even if you were, I’d still love you.”

“Mmm...” Elise
leaned into the kiss and swept her tongue over his, before easing
back and shifting the child in her arms. She started to rock the
little girl to sleep. “So what was making you swear?”

He stood and
began pacing again. “The damn...er...the disappointing report from
Chicago. There’s still no progress on that fellow Aldrich. It was a
simple enough assignment. I asked the Chicago pack to deal with him
and they still don’t have the job done. I can’t believe how
inefficient they are; after all, they have a stake in this as well.
None of us want to be exposed to the human population. Maybe I
should just go and take care of the man myself.”

Elise rolled
her eyes at him. “Kane Sinclair, you know perfectly well that you
can’t go traipsing into another pack’s territory like that.
Besides, I’ve read the reports and you couldn’t do any better. Leon
Aldrich keeps himself locked up like Fort Knox. He never leaves his
penthouse unless he’s surrounded by guards and there's a careful
screening process for all his employees. The Chicago pack has tried
to get someone on the inside but they can’t make it through the
screening process. Face it, he knows you’re after him and he’s not
taking any chances.”

Kane growled at
her matter of fact restating of what he already knew. Aldrich’s
continued existence was a thorn in his side. Three years ago, the
man had stumbled upon the fact that werewolves actually existed and
had planned on abducting one of their kind, namely Melody Greene,
and selling her as living proof of his discovery.

An ancient
werewolf law, known as the Keeping, dictated that any human who
discovered their secret existence faced possible extermination.
Ryne, Kane’s brother, had attempted to kill the man but desperate
circumstances dealing with Melody’s safety meant he’d had to leave
before finishing the man off. Since that time, Aldrich had been at
the top of their ‘most wanted’ list. “The Chicago pack claims they
have a new plan, but I’m not holding my breath. As long as Aldrich
is alive, we aren’t safe.”

“There’s no
guarantee on safety, Kane. You kept most of the pack in hiding for
four months when this whole thing first blew up, but nothing
happened. It’s been almost three years now. Aldrich has never made
a move against us or given any indication that he plans too. Maybe
he’s too afraid to do anything; maybe it’s time to let it go.”

He braced his
arms against the window frame and stared outside, considering his
mate’s words. Idly, he noted the signs of spring appearing in the
forest that grew around the homestead. “Perhaps you have a point.
It’s just...” Pausing, he tried to find the words to express
himself. “I just have this feeling in my gut that trouble is still
brewing and it has something to do with Aldrich.”

Elise stood and
laid the now sleeping baby down in her crib, before walking over to
Kane and beginning to rub his back.

Kane rumbled
appreciatively at the feel of her hands soothing the tight muscles
in his shoulders, then sliding down his side. She wrapped her arms
around his waist and laid her head against him.

“You know,
Kane, I have a feeling in my gut too, though actually it’s a bit
lower. You could fix it, if you wanted to.”

His breath
caught in his chest as she accompanied her suggestive words by
shifting her hand lower and using her finger to trace over his
zipper. Immediately, his flesh responded, growing harder and
straining against the material of his pants. He placed his hand
over hers and pressed her palm to the aching bulge. When she
squeezed lightly, he groaned in appreciation. “I might be able to
accommodate you.”

“Might?” Elise
circled around him and nipped at his chin, then pulled his head
down so she could tease his earlobe.

Kane ran his
hands up her back and then down, cupping her enticingly rounded
rear, pulling her closer. “Uh-huh. I’m Alpha, you know; a very busy
man. But I suppose I could try to work you in...”

Giggling, Elise
took his hand and led him from the sitting room towards the
adjoining bedroom. “Actually, from the feel of things, I think I’ll
be trying to work
you
in, big boy...”

*****

Chicago,
Illinois, USA...

Marla stood in
the office of the late Anthony Greyson, eyeing the contents
carefully. Gold pens, two silver letter trays, and an ivory letter
opener were on the desk that dominated the room. Beside it, floor
to ceiling shelves housed a collection of books; many were rare
first editions, autographed and in mint condition. She trailed her
fingers over the leather spines and then across the wooden surface
of a nearby table, her mind ticking off its salient features;
mahogany, cabriole leg, hand carved detailing, eighteenth century
design, probably an original Chippendale. It would fetch a tidy sum
at auction. A picture arrangement caught her attention next. Each
one was a much sought after original oil painting, meticulously
maintained. Her eyes gleamed; she knew exactly where she could get
the best price for them...

A regretful
sigh escaped her. They were much too big and certainly would be
missed should one or two of them suddenly disappear. A single
silver letter tray however... A slight smile curled the corner of
her lips and she drifted over to the desk. Yes, the tray was lovely
and, thankfully, large purses were in style this year. Casually
looking around the room to ensure no one was watching, she lifted
one tray and examined it carefully, noting the elegant etching. It
would do the trick nicely.

Setting her
purse down, she began to unzip it, when someone cleared their
throat behind her. Her hand barely paused before she continued the
task of opening her purse, reaching in and pulling out a tissue as
if that had been her goal all along. Turning, she leaned a hip
against the desk top and surveyed the elderly man who stood in the
doorway.

“Yes,
Franklin?” Marla kept her tone even and pleasant, her expression
one of bland inquiry. Nothing about her gave any indication that
her actions were anything but respectable.

“Do you need
any help, ma’am?”

“No, thank you,
Franklin. I was just inspecting the Estate as per Mr. Aldrich’s
orders. As usual, you and Mrs. Teasdale are doing a splendid
job.”

“Thank you,
ma’am.” While Franklin’s voice was polite, Marla was sure she
detected a flash of loathing in the man’s eyes.

That was fine.
It was game they’d been playing now for almost three years. On the
surface they were so cordial butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths,
but underneath the polite facade... Ah! That’s where the truth was
found.

She narrowed
her eyes in annoyance at the man. He was always appearing at
inopportune moments, always watching her... As he stepped further
into the room, she hastily rearranged her features into a pleasant
but mildly bored expression.

Franklin walked
over to the desk, his stride purposeful. Marla observed as he
picked up the tray she’d had in her hand just moments before. He
flicked a glance at her, then took a polishing rag out of his
pocket and cleaned the surface before placing it back on the desk
in its original position.

“Such a lovely
piece,” he murmured. “It would be a shame if it went missing like
some of the other small items have.” Marla knew he was watching her
out of the corner of his eye, but remained calm and cool. If the
butler thought he could rattle her, he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Indeed.” Marla
raised one eyebrow. “Any progress yet on finding the supposedly
misplaced items?”

“Stolen, ma’am.
Not misplaced.”

She waved her
hand negligently. “Semantics, Franklin. Stolen, misplaced... It’s
all the same in the end. The items are no longer where you claim
they used to be.” Pausing, she feigned a concerned expression. “You
know, Franklin, this really is a large house to manage. I’m sure
you’ve done your best, but you must be getting tired. Three years
with hardly a break, supervising the hired help, assisting with the
inventory...”

Shaking her
head, she made a little moue. “I know I’ve mentioned it before, but
it is possible that the inventory you conducted wasn’t entirely
accurate. I don’t think the courts took your age into consideration
when they gave you the job.” Reaching over, she patted his arm
lightly. “No one would think any the less of you, if you
decided—”

“I’m not in my
dotage yet, Ms. Matthews, though I thank you for your concern. The
inventory was accurate, the items
are
missing, and the
police have been notified. Everyone has been questioned as to the
objects’ whereabouts and the local pawn shops have been alerted.”
He pulled his arm out from under her hand, his voice reflecting his
affront. “Of course, you know that already, seeing as how we had
this same conversation during your last visit.”