The bottom dropped out of Blair’s stomach, and her startled inner animal gave a quick shake of the head.
“I take it you’ve never seen a picture of her before,” said River.
“No,” Blair confirmed.
He slowly moved his phone from side to side, giving everyone a look at the photo on the screen … which was right about when Luke stopped pacing and burst out, “Son of a bitch.”
Bailey looked from Blair to the phone. “That is one freaky resemblance.”
Yeah, she’d have to agree. Shit, she needed to sit down. But then Luke turned to her, pinning her in place with his intense gaze.
“No one mentioned that you look so much like her?” he asked.
“No,” replied Blair. “But they might not have known. Donal never talked about her.” Curious, she had once come close to asking him about the woman and what went wrong between them, but she’d worried it would be too sore a subject.
“If it’s him who’s stalking you, his obsession with you is likely to be more about her,” Aspen said to Blair. “He’d probably see you as his second chance at getting everything he wants.”
Blair wiped a hand down her face, unable to even consider that the male would think of her in a sexual sense. Not merely because he was twenty-five years her senior, but because … well, because she didn’t want to. She’d always thought of him as sweet and uncle-y. “It doesn’t make sense that it would be him. He’s always been supportive of us being mates,” she told Luke.
“Just because he seems supportive doesn’t mean he truly is,” Aspen gently pointed out.
River pocketed his phone. “I also did some digging on Gabriel. The guy is squeaky clean. No arrests, no fines, not even a single speeding ticket. He has little to no contact with shifters. His friends are human, his ex-girlfriends are human, his lifestyle is that of a human.”
“You said little to no contact with shifters,” Blair noted.
“Ah, yes, I discovered something that surprised me.” River paused. “He co-owns Enigma.”
Blair felt her brow furrow. “The shifter club?”
“Yes. He’s a silent partner.” River leaned back in his seat. “I had a long talk with one of the bartenders. Apparently Gabriel goes there occasionally. He selects a female from the crowd—always a leggy, submissive redhead—and fucks her in the club. He never takes a woman home. Never hangs around to talk to her. It’s said that he doesn’t even ask for names.”
“His animal isn’t satisfied with humans, so Gabriel occasionally gives him what he needs,” mused Isaiah.
“That would be my guess,” said River.
Blair rocked forward on the balls of her feet. “He clearly has a type. I’m not submissive. I’m also no redhead.”
“That doesn’t have to mean anything,” Aspen told her. “Camden slept with guys before me—some of whom were submissive.”
“There was one time that Gabriel deviated from his usual ‘fuck them without talking to them’ routine,” said River. “It was another submissive, leggy redhead. Someone the bartender knew well. A fox shifter.” He looked at Blair. “Macy Corbitt. The woman you found dead on your porch.”
Everything inside Blair went still, including her female. Hell to the no.
Luke swore long and loud. “When did Gabriel sleep with her?”
“Two months before she ventured to Sylvan territory to lie that she’d recently shared your bed,” replied River.
“Gabriel could have put her up to it,” said Deke. “He might have hoped it would come between Luke and Blair. Did the bartender hear what they talked about?”
River shook his head. “No.”
Blair puffed out a breath, utterly stunned. She met Luke’s gaze, finding it focused on her.
“We need to speak with Donal, Antoine, and Gabriel,” he said.
Tate poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “We could interrogate Gabriel without anyone attempting to interfere. But Embry isn’t going to consent to you questioning any of his pack mates. Not even if they don’t have an alibi for earlier today when you were hit by the car.”
“He might be cooperative when he realizes that we know he’s been keeping important info from us,” clipped Luke.
“True,” allowed Tate with an incline of his head. “But if the culprit is either Donal or Antoine, you’ll tip their hand by questioning them. Right now, they have no clue that we have all this information about them. It might be better to keep it that way. They’re more likely to slip up if they don’t think we’re focused on them.”
Havana raked her teeth over her lower lip. “I’d have to agree with Tate. What do you think, Blair?”
Rubbing the back of her neck, Blair replied, “I think whoever’s harassing me isn’t going to hold their hands up and admit to it.” She cut her gaze to her mate. “Especially not to you, who they seemingly hate enough to want dead. I’m not certain anything productive would come of you questioning them.”