I knocked on the tiny window of the door, hoping someone was near enough to hear me. After a few minutes ticked by, a new wave of nerves came over me. Werewolves were not designed for small spaces. I started to feel trapped, and nothing but an open door was going to make me feel any better.
Just as my heart started to beat wildly, a key rattled in the door. I had to resist the urge to make a run for it the second it opened. That was a sure-fire way to ensure I’d be locked in here for another couple days with no sign of sunlight or fresh air.
The door opened, and a young, female deputy stood at the entrance. She was holding a cup of coffee so fresh steam was still rising from it.
“Miss McQueen.”
Since I hadn’t been all that forthcoming with information when they’d brought us in, I supposed they’d found Wilder’s bike and gone through the contents. That’s where I’d left my wallet. Of course they’d fingerprinted us, but I didn’t have a criminal record. I couldn’t speak for Wilder, but something told me the Shaw brothers had a history with the law.
“Where’s my friend?” I asked. “The guy I was brought in with.”
She held the coffee cup out to me, but I shook my head. Taking food from these people was about as smart as Persephone accepting pomegranate seeds from Hades. I wasn’t going to tempt fate with unknown coffee, or anything else. Maybe I was getting paranoid, but if that was the case, it was because a twisted world had given me good reason to be.
“No thank you.” I might not trust them, but I had been raised to be polite.
She sighed as if she’d expected my response, then sipped the coffee herself. Either she actually wanted it, or she was doing it to prove to me they weren’t trying to poison me. I didn’t care which it was, I just wanted to see Wilder.
“Mr. Shaw is being questioned by Sheriff McGraw. You’re up next.”
“Can I see him?”
“He’s being—”
“I don’t mean right now. But before my questioning.”
The deputy—her name tag read Dwyer—rolled her eyes. “We’re a small town, Miss McQueen, but we’re not stupid. No you can’t see your accomplice before questioning.”
“I don’t need to talk to him. I just want to see him.” I was getting frantic now. Between the small room, the fact we’d been arrested on made-up charges, and what we’d witnessed last night, I was worried Wilder was dead and they were hiding it from me for as long as they could.
“Look. Eugenia is it?”
I preferred Miss McQueen, but since she wasn’t part of my pack, she didn’t need to abide by the rules that would apply to subservient wolves. I was accustomed to being treated with some respect, and sometimes it flustered me to have a stranger call me by my given name.
“Genie,” I said. If she was going to be familiar, she might as well call me by a name I liked.
“Okay. Genie. My name is Josie. I know you’re worried about your boyfriend, but he’s fine, I promise.”
I shook my head. “He hit a cop. There’s no way I believe he’s fine.”
“Ah. Yeah. That didn’t help matters. He broke Anderson’s nose. He’s going to face some extra charges, and I won’t lie… They weren’t all that easy on him during booking. But he’s no worse for the wear today.” She shrugged, like I should be relieved Wilder getting beaten by the police hadn’t left any bruises. “We were a little too busy for y’all this morning anyway.”
“Why?”
; She sipped her coffee again, then threw the empty cup into a garbage can near the door. “Waiting on the county coroner to show. Then we arrested an honest-to-God werewolf.” Her eyes went wide. “Been a crazy day.”
My stomach bottomed out. Coroner meant dead body. “The…werewolf. Is that who you needed the coroner for?” My guilt was overwhelming. I’d failed Wilder, but more importantly I’d failed Hank.
Josie stared at me like I’d grown horns. “No. It’s for the woman he killed.” She must have realized she’d said too much because she paused guiltily before speaking again. “I’ll come get you when Sheriff McGraw is ready for you.”
When she left, I went back to the cot and drew my knees up to my chest, staring at the blank wall across from me. She’d given me enough information that, coupled with what Wilder and I had seen happen last night at the church, I formulated a clear idea of what was happening.
I didn’t know if Hank had killed the woman, but I’d seen him lunge at her. Whether he’d finished the job or not, it was the church who had really killed her. They’d driven Hank to the edge of madness and shoved the woman in his path. They might as well have pushed her in front of a speeding train. They’d known what the results would be.
For a second I thought I might be sick, but I couldn’t even get up to go to the toilet. I swallowed the urge and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand, wiping away any tears that dared sneak out.
Even though I knew none of this was my fault, I still felt the blame of it sitting firmly on my shoulders. The entire point of me coming here against Callum’s wishes was to make things better and prove I was a capable leader.