Don’t start crying in the middle of the sidewalk. You’re stronger than that.
He stopped and moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from most of the prying eyes of the people walking by. “No, you don’t. Not anymore. I’m not asking you on a date, Phoebe. We need to talk.”
No. She couldn’t afford to have any werewolves around her right now or ever. She couldn’t in good conscience put anyone else in danger, and just knowing her put others in danger. Maybe not now, but she had no way of really knowing that no matter how much she wanted it to be true.
“Phoebe.”
She placed her hands on his chest. “Please stop.”
He looked down at her hands and she looked at him. Blushing, she let her hands drop and looked away.
“Phoebe.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to wipe away her tears.
She took the handkerchief from him and licked her lips. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? You really, really don’t.”
“Why is that?”
She took a few deep breaths, wondering if she could do it. This secret had been safely kept for so long. Only one other person knew. Everyone else was dead. To tell Aidan, to not cut ties with him, could endanger him and his entire pack.
“I want to tell you.”
“Then tell me.”
The foot traffic had died down. No one would hear her if she spoke quietly. If not now, then never.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Because I’m a werewolf.”
When he didn’t speak, she opened her eyes and found him studying her face so intently she blushed again. Slowly, he reached up and touched her face. For the life of her she wished she could read his mind. For all she knew, he could be wondering how best to run her out of town.
She lowered her eyes. “I’ve been a werewolf for a long time. Before I came to Echo Falls.”
She kept her eyes locked on his chest, her stomach flipping at his continued silence. I should say something. Her heart beat faster, but her mind remained willfully blank.
He took a deep breath. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
CHAPTER TEN
Thomas waved goodbye to the last officer leaving the station and then looked back down at the pile of papers on his desk. The top paper came from forensics. He’d known the moment he saw the return address that the news wouldn’t be good; that department just didn’t work that fast. The letter had confirmed his fears: a personal note from a pathologist he’d dated a few months back telling him to not get his hopes up.
He cursed.
He only needed one tiny bit of evidence, evidence that the rest of the police didn’t have to recognize, to prove that they had a traitor amongst the pack. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility any more than anyone else, but his gut told him he was right. Only a traitor would be able to direct the killer to non-pack werewolves.
“And go back to pick up his clothes.”
He frowned at that. Had the killer picked up his Were partner’s clothes, or had the partner picked up the killer’s clothes? The former didn’t make sense because Aidan had fought the werewolf off and hadn’t recognized the scent. Aidan knew every scent of every werewolf who lived in Echo Falls, so the Were he fought had to be a drifter. That brought everything back to the killer having pack help to know who to kill.
He cursed again and rubbed his temples. He’d been over all this before, the same details and conclusions circling his mind in different ways. If he could just think of it in the right way with the right words, everything would fall into place.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and brought out a folder from underneath the pile. If Aidan knew he had this folder, he would be furious.
Since the second murder, Thomas had been carefully collecting every pack member’s alibis for the murder times. He’d done it as smoothly as he could so suspicions and accusations wouldn’t start flying, but that only meant his list still had little to no use to them.
He stopped and moved to stand in front of her, shielding her from most of the prying eyes of the people walking by. “No, you don’t. Not anymore. I’m not asking you on a date, Phoebe. We need to talk.”
No. She couldn’t afford to have any werewolves around her right now or ever. She couldn’t in good conscience put anyone else in danger, and just knowing her put others in danger. Maybe not now, but she had no way of really knowing that no matter how much she wanted it to be true.
“Phoebe.”
She placed her hands on his chest. “Please stop.”
He looked down at her hands and she looked at him. Blushing, she let her hands drop and looked away.
“Phoebe.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to wipe away her tears.
She took the handkerchief from him and licked her lips. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? You really, really don’t.”
“Why is that?”
She took a few deep breaths, wondering if she could do it. This secret had been safely kept for so long. Only one other person knew. Everyone else was dead. To tell Aidan, to not cut ties with him, could endanger him and his entire pack.
“I want to tell you.”
“Then tell me.”
The foot traffic had died down. No one would hear her if she spoke quietly. If not now, then never.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Because I’m a werewolf.”
When he didn’t speak, she opened her eyes and found him studying her face so intently she blushed again. Slowly, he reached up and touched her face. For the life of her she wished she could read his mind. For all she knew, he could be wondering how best to run her out of town.
She lowered her eyes. “I’ve been a werewolf for a long time. Before I came to Echo Falls.”
She kept her eyes locked on his chest, her stomach flipping at his continued silence. I should say something. Her heart beat faster, but her mind remained willfully blank.
He took a deep breath. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
CHAPTER TEN
Thomas waved goodbye to the last officer leaving the station and then looked back down at the pile of papers on his desk. The top paper came from forensics. He’d known the moment he saw the return address that the news wouldn’t be good; that department just didn’t work that fast. The letter had confirmed his fears: a personal note from a pathologist he’d dated a few months back telling him to not get his hopes up.
He cursed.
He only needed one tiny bit of evidence, evidence that the rest of the police didn’t have to recognize, to prove that they had a traitor amongst the pack. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility any more than anyone else, but his gut told him he was right. Only a traitor would be able to direct the killer to non-pack werewolves.
“And go back to pick up his clothes.”
He frowned at that. Had the killer picked up his Were partner’s clothes, or had the partner picked up the killer’s clothes? The former didn’t make sense because Aidan had fought the werewolf off and hadn’t recognized the scent. Aidan knew every scent of every werewolf who lived in Echo Falls, so the Were he fought had to be a drifter. That brought everything back to the killer having pack help to know who to kill.
He cursed again and rubbed his temples. He’d been over all this before, the same details and conclusions circling his mind in different ways. If he could just think of it in the right way with the right words, everything would fall into place.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and brought out a folder from underneath the pile. If Aidan knew he had this folder, he would be furious.
Since the second murder, Thomas had been carefully collecting every pack member’s alibis for the murder times. He’d done it as smoothly as he could so suspicions and accusations wouldn’t start flying, but that only meant his list still had little to no use to them.
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