as desperate…and possibly guilty.
The cop looked him over and he could see him mentally dismissing Kevin as young, bewildered, and
painfully average. The man in the Dumpster was pretty large, and Kevin didn’t exactly look like a
brawler. He was about to ask the cop if they were done here and if he could go home when Jolene pulled
up in her big, pink Cadillac and jumped out, rushing over to them.
“Jesus Christ, Sugar, are you all right?” she cried as she hugged him. Her clothes were wrinkled and her
hair awry. She looked like she’d rolled out of bed and into her clothes, then rushed downtown, which she
probably had.
“Yeah, Jo, I’m fine. Really.” Kevin made a show of rubbing his eyes. “Just tired.”
The police started clustering around Jolene, hitting her with the same barrage of questions they’d been
asking him for the past hour. Kevin looked up at the officer still standing over him. “Look, I told you guys
everything I know, and it’s almost four in the morning. Any chance I can go home and get some sleep? I
have to work tomorrow.”
“We need you to come downtown and file an official report.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow morning? I’ve been up going on eighteen hours now. I don’t think I can sign
my name straight at the moment.”
The cop nodded. “We’ll need you first thing.”
Kevin headed for his car. Like he’d be able to sleep after this. Yeah, sure.
***
Chapter Sixteen
Jolene called him at noon the following day to tell him the club would be closed until the cops and
coroner sorted things out. A day or two, at least, she said. She wasn’t happy about it, and neither was
Kevin—he liked work, liked having a routine—but she told him to make the best of his impromptu
vacation. She said he should relax, go visit his boyfriend.
“They have any leads?” Kevin muttered into the cell he’d pulled under the covers with him. His heart was
banging around his chest and he hated the idea of the police sniffing around his workplace. What if
Roman, or one of the pack, showed up? What if the police somehow fingered Fenrir? If the man was
linked to the murder, would he take the whole pack down with him?
“They think it might be gang-related, or something to do with a dog ring.” She let out her shaky breath in a
sigh. “They found hairs on the dead guy. And get this, they were wolf hairs. They think there may be a dog
ring using wolves in the city.”
Shit. “That sounds so weird,” Kevin said, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.
“This is New York, sugar. I’ve come to expect the weird in this town.”
Kevin told her to keep him updated, hung up, and got out of bed for a very hot shower. After going
downtown to the police station to fill out the necessary paperwork, he stopped to get two giant bacon
cheeseburgers for lunch, then drove out to Roman’s mansion. A scrawled warning was one thing, a dead
body—especially if it endangered the pack—another. He was trembling, terrified this all would go south
if he didn’t talk to Roman.
One of Roman’s boys let him into the mansion. The guy, a lean, dark-haired model named Jason, was
manning the lobby and watching a daytime soap. “Roman’s waiting for you on the roof,” he said.
“How does Roman know I’d be here?”
Jason guffawed. “Roman knows everything that goes on in this town.”
Throwing off an uncomfortable shiver, Kevin took the elevator to the rooftop gardens. It was a clear and
balmy day, with just enough humidity to hint at the oncoming dog days of summer in the city. Half of the
roof was dedicated to an Olympic-sized, in-ground swimming pool full of crystal clear water. Most of the
pack were skinny-dipping, shouting and dunking each other and throwing a beach ball around. The other
half of the roof was dedicated to the garden—rose bushes, exotic fruit trees, orchids, shrubbery, and giant
flowering bushes growing in urns. Roman said that Anya was an avid botanist and liked to bring a little of
the wild to their city home.
Roman and Anya were sitting in the garden around a glass patio table, drinking tea and discussing the
newspaper they had divided between them. They were both dressed casually—Roman in a smoking jacket
and slacks, and Anya in a long, silky, Greco-inspired gown. Roman had braided his hair back and it
swished against his back as he discussed something about their financial holdings with his pack mate.
Fenrir was nowhere to be found, and that made Kevin feel uneasy as he made his way toward them. Anya
spotted him as he approached, stood up and gave Kevin a keen look. “I think I’ll go prepare for the party
tonight and leave you two boys alone.”
When she was gone, Roman indicated the newly vacated seat. “Sit, Golden Eyes. Take tea with me.”
“I’m not here to socialize,” he told the pack alpha. He should be pissed with Roman for letting this
happen, he knew, but just the sight of their gorgeous, debonair leader made his heart thud at a ferocious
rate in his chest and his dick harden in his jeans. His teeth were suddenly much sharper in his mouth. He
clenched his fists at his sides, trying to throw off the sudden desire to get down on his knees and rub
himself against his alpha’s side. He wanted to present himself to Roman, let the man ride him like a trick
circus horse. He put it out of his mind. “I’m here to talk about the murder. I’m pretty sure you know what I
mean.”
At least Roman didn’t pretend to not know what Kevin was talking about. He did indicate the paper in his
hands. “They identified the victim. Apparently, he was a pedophile and known sex offender. I would
hardly say what happened to him was murder…more like garbage pickup.” He wrinkled his nose
disdainfully, baring longer-than-normal canines. “If you ask me, the world is a much better place without
such men in it.”
“I don’t care who he was. I only care where he was killed—which was practically on my doorstep!”
Kevin took a deep breath to keep from losing his temper. “Aren’t you at all concerned that the police
found wolf hairs on the victim?”
Roman, who was wearing a pair of shades, slid them down his nose so he could better observe Kevin
overtop them. They looked more wolf than man. “No.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have humans in high places in the police and government to cover our indiscretions. Even as we
speak, the police are investigating an exotic dog-fighting ring in connection with the murder. By next
week, they’ll have closed the case file.”
Kevin shook his head in fury. “I can’t believe this. So whoever did this just walks, then?”
“You believe my pack is somehow responsible.”
“Wolf hairs were found on the victim,” Kevin said. “That’s not a coincidence, Roman.”
“Orphans frequently pass in and out of my territory. It could be any number of werewolves who are
responsible. I assure you, the matter will be investigated.”
“And then?”