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He let out a huff of rage, like he wanted to start shouting but stopped short of it. “Don’t you dare make me pull rank on you. Don’t do it.” This was the werewolf version of you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

“Give me forty-eight hours. If I haven’t figured it out by then, I’ll come home on my own. I’ll go back to toeing the company line. I promise.”

“And who is going to watch out for you, hmm? Your human playmate?”

I chewed nervously on my thumbnail. “How would you feel about wiring me some money to pay Wilder’s bail?”

Hey, if I was going in, I might as well go all in.

Chapter Twenty

“Who did you have to blow to get me out of here?”

Cash was busy making calls, so he’d loaned me his car to pick up Wilder, though Cash had given me a bit of attitude about it. I think the idea of spending fifteen minutes alone in the car with Wilder made him uneasy. Better me than him, I suppose.

“A lady never tells.”

He was sporting a fresh bruise on one cheek, and when my smile faltered, he said, “Deputy Anderson wasn’t too happy I posted bail.”

“Yeah, well, I think Deputy Anderson is going to be pretty happy with the settlement he ends up being offered.” I rested my arms on the roof of the car.

“I don’t want your uncle buying my way out of this.”

“And we don’t want you spending the next five-to-ten in prison, so we’ll compromise.”

“How is it a compromise if I’m still taking Callum’s money?”

“You’re not taking the money. A fine upstanding officer of the Franklinton Parish is taking Callum’s money. And in turn, you will likely have to agree to attend some anger-management classes. Or something. The finer details are still being negotiated.”

“By Cash?”

“No, Cash is working on Hank. Callum has his people…finessing your agreement.”

“So much for not calling in the big guns.”

We both got into the car, and I turned in my seat towards him. “I told you I would do whatever it took to help bring Hank home. That’s what I’m doing.”

He smiled, though it seemed to hurt him. “I know. I think we might be out of our depth. You did the right thing.”

That went a lot easier than I’d anticipated. “You’re not going to yell at me?”

“Would it make you feel better if I did?”

“Not really.”

“Then no, I don’t plan to.”

One small relief in a mountain of stress and uncertainty. “I told Callum I needed more time to investigate what was happening. He wanted to send Ben to drag me back to St. Francisville, but we settled in the middle. You and I have forty-eight hours to find a way to prove Deerling is the nutjob we know he is.”

“This will go public before then. I’m surprised they haven’t invited the media in yet. This is totally the sort of thing CNN likes to throw Nancy Grace at.”

I snorted. “It does make you wonder, doesn’t it? If their goal was to make werewolves look like villains, why haven’t they acted on this yet? Isn’t that the whole point? I’m worried they might be up to something else.”

“Or maybe they’re waiting until the sheriff has hard evidence on Hank so there’s no room for reasonable doubt.”

I started the car and headed towards the drive thru. I didn’t need to ask if Wilder was hungry. A werewolf living on county jail rations for a day? I’m surprised he wasn’t gnawing on the faux-leather interior.

“Reasonable doubt becomes trickier if Hank actually killed her. I mean, you and I know he wasn’t in his right mind, but I don’t expect a grand jury to grasp the distinction.”


Tags: Sierra Dean Genie McQueen Fantasy