Avery nodded back. “Sir.”
“Nice day,” Russell said. And it was. Cloudy but near enough to seventy that Avery was comfortable in his thin, peacock-blue T-shirt and chunky brown cardigan. He’d completed the outfit with Wayfarer sunglasses, rolled-up skinny jeans, and copper-colored brogues, no socks. He knew he probably looked unabashedly queer to a man like Russell, who favored flannel jackets, baseball caps, and dirty work boots. Avery was tempted to add a little extra swish to his step as the beta studied him. He refrained.
Russell inclined his head but didn’t say anything else as Avery walked up and let himself into the house. He still had the spare key Mr. Otis had given him, and the old wolf was expecting him. He called out a greeting as he closed the door.
Mr. Otis’s voice floated to him from the rear of the house. “In the kitchen.”
No shock there. It was where they usually talked. He made his way down the hall.
Mr. Otis sat at the table with a newspaper unfolded in front of him. “Hello, Avery.”
“Hi. I saw Mr. Metz outside.” Avery set the bag of food on the counter.
Mr. Otis flipped the newspaper closed. His silver hair was neatly combed, but his eye patch rested on the table. Avery had seen the injury enough times to be inured to the scars and empty socket. “He’s cleaning and repairing the gutters. He does it for me once a year.”
“That’s nice of him.” Avery wondered at the timing, though. It seemed suspicious with how often Russell and Lawrence had shown up at Dylan’s shop lately. “Did you tell him I was coming by?”
“No,” Mr. Otis said. “We don’t speak much. He just swings around to help me whenever a house repair needs doing.”
Avery started unpacking their lunch. “I picked us up some soup and sandwiches. I got you the Philly cheesesteak you like.”
“That sounds good.” Mr. Otis shuffled the newspaper aside and reaffixed his eye patch. “Tell me about your trip to New Orleans.”
Once he’d set Mr. Otis up with his food and a drink, Avery joined him at the table. He filled in Mr. Otis on the wedding and his family drama. Then he shared his information about Lacey’s case—such as it was.
The old wolf’s face was cast in somber lines by the time Avery finished. “You really think that boy killed himself?”
Avery twisted his mouth. “I don’t know. According to Detective Ribeiro, all signs point to suicide. I’ve only spoken to Joel twice outside of a handful of e-mails. I can’t say if it seems out of character for him.” Avery started to shred his napkin, needing something to do with his hands. “Ribeiro also questioned Victor and the guy who calls himself ‘Snowflake.’ Neither of them gave him anything beyond what they’d told me and Dylan. Snowflake claims the info he received about the auctions came from a source he only knows as Drake and that they never met face-to-face. All communications happened through texts or e-mails, and supposedly he hasn’t heard from Drake in months.” Avery sighed. “Just another dead end.”
Mr. Otis drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, rubbing at his wrinkled forehead. “She’s been gone almost nine months.”
He didn’t continue, but Avery could almost hear his thoughts. In most cases, once someone had been missing that long, they were never seen again. At least not alive. Avery couldn’t say why he believed Lacey waited out there somewhere, desperate to be found and brought home. Maybe it was self-delusion. Perhaps he needed to acknowledge that and move on. Mr. Otis had asked to stay informed, yet every passing day and failed lead only added to his sorrow. Avery saw the thread of his hope fraying. Soon it would snap, and there’d be nothing left—no faith to cling to.
But until they had an answer, one way or another, Avery couldn’t let it go.
Avery cleaned the mess from their meal, and with a squeeze to Mr. Otis’s shoulder and a promise to keep him updated, he left the house.
Russell stood next to his truck in the driveway, securing some of his tools in the storage chest on the bed. Avery went to walk past him, but before he could, Russell spoke. “I’m surprised you still come see him.”
Avery stopped. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s my friend.”
Russell nodded and gave him a considering look. “It’s so horrible, his daughter going missing.”
Avery’s stomach clenched. “Yes, it is.” He wanted to throw in some smartass remark about the pack’s complete disregard of Lacey and the entire situation when Avery had brought it to them last fall, but he bit his tongue.
“Worse how people try to use her disappearance to get attention.”
Avery blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Just last week Alpha Odell got a call from someone saying they’d spotted her. We investigated, but we found nothing to substantiate the claim. Probably just some prank, though it was in mighty poor taste, if you ask me.”
Avery quickly tried to mask his shock. He couldn’t reconcile Russell’s sudden interest with the attitude Russell had displayed when Avery had spoken to him and the other pack leaders about Lacey last fall. Had they changed their minds about her and her wild-girl reputation? Or was this an attempt to trick him into confessing something? Avery cleared his throat and responded before Russell started to question his silence. “It’s a shame someone would do that, but you never know. Every lead should be investigated, though I’m surprised you didn’t turn it over to Detective Ribeiro. Based on our last meeting, I hadn’t thought Alpha Odell would waste pack resources on a runaway.”
Russell grinned widely, though his eyes were hard. The expression made the hair on the back of Avery’s neck stand on end. “I understand how you’d get that impression, but rest assured, we’re concerned about all our pack members. The fact that Lacey hasn’t returned by now is troubling. Of course, it has nothing to do with you anymore, since the alpha told you to stay away from the case.”
Avery forced a smile to his lips. “Of course, sir.”
Russell clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make Avery stagger. “Good of you to visit the old wolf.” He turned away and got into his truck.
Avery watched him pull away before getting into the Camry. Well, that was… fucking bizarre. Russell even deigning to speak to him was unexpected. Avery had always sensed the beta’s dislike whenever they crossed paths in the past. What was with the sudden cordiality? Then again, it made sense. Alpha Odell had ordered Avery to stay away from Lacey’s case, and Avery had blatantly disregarded that command. Maybe they suspected. It would explain why Lawrence and Russell had taken to popping in at Green’s, and why Russell had mentioned Lacey.
Dylan was right. The betas were up to something. Maybe not Broderick, but definitely Lawrence and Russell. Avery would have to be more discreet. He didn’t want to put either himself or Dylan in the alpha’s sights. Alpha Odell might be a fair man, and Avery might be his son’s best friend, but there were limits to his mercy. He wouldn’t pardon Avery again.
Avery swallowed hard and clutched the steering wheel, his skin prickling with unease. This was Dylan’s home, his pack. He would die before being the reason Dylan lost his place here. But he couldn’t give up on Lacey’s case, not until he had a solid answer for Mr. Otis. He was in too deep to just give up.
What could he do? How could he forgive himself if he got Dylan in trouble? The answers eluded him.
Avery sucked in a shaky breath. Well, he wasn’t getting anywhere sitting in front of Mr. Otis’s house. Reid was waiting for him to come back to the office. He had work to do. At the very least, he could make himself useful for a few hours.
After starting the car, Avery checked his mirrors and pulled away from the curb.
“OKAY. THANK
you, sir. We’ll be waiting for that security footage.” Avery set the phone back on its cradle and slumped into his chair with a sigh.
“Let’s wrap things up.”
Avery turned to see Reid in the doorway to his office. As always he seemed poised and still, his sable hair falling feather-sleek to his collar. He hadn’t cut it since Avery started working for him, but the layers had grown out well, flattering his aquiline features. Avery held his dark brown stare for a moment before returning his attention to his computer. He started shutting down the programs he’d been using.
Reid moved to stand next to his desk. “So he’s mailing the tape?”
“Yeah. He said he’d send it priority tomorrow.”
“Good.”
They were investigating yet another missing persons’ case—a girl who’d run away from home a year ago. According to the anonymous letter and grainy picture they’d received, she’d been spotted in a convenience store in Idaho last month. Reid had requested the security tapes to see if they could collect more images or find out the make and license plate number of her vehicle. It wouldn’t do to contact her family until they were sure they had the right person and not some doppelganger. But there was hope she was alive, if not necessarily well. Who knew what circumstances she might be living under?
“What’s wrong?” Reid asked.
Of course he would’ve noticed Avery’s frustrated mood. He was too perceptive by far.
Avery shook his head. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Avery turned his chair so he could look up into Reid’s face. “A part of me hates working on this case, and it makes me feel like an asshole. I should be glad, right? I should be happy we might’ve found her, that we’ll probably have good news to share with her family soon.”
Reid propped a hip against the edge of the desk. “But you’re not?”
Avery sighed. “I am, in a way. I mean, she’s been missing even longer than Lacey. But it’s like the closer we get, the more I’m reminded how much I’ve failed her. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help it.”
Reid regarded him for a long moment. “Anger is rarely rational. Your feelings are valid.”
“I know. I still feel guilty.”
“Some cases are harder to deal with than others. Some will never stop haunting you.”
Avery hunched in on himself, his animal’s protective instinct shining through. “Lacey will be that way for me if I don’t find her. Or if I do and she’s….”
Reid reached out and clasped his shoulder. Like Avery, he didn’t often initiate physical contact. Birds and hedgehogs weren’t like wolves. They didn’t crave constant touch. But Reid and Avery had been working together for three months. A certain measure of ease had come into their relationship, enough for Reid to try to offer comfort. “Maybe things will change now that the detective is involved. Joel’s death… it could be a sign you’re getting close.”
“There’s no proof he didn’t kill himself,” Avery muttered.
“But your instincts say otherwise, don’t they?”
Avery hesitated. “Yes. I think so.”
Reid nodded. “Sometimes you have to trust those feelings, with or without proof.” He stepped back. “Let’s lock up. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Normally Avery would protest. He’d gotten used to riding MAX and practicing his observation skills, but he didn’t feel up to it right then. He gathered his belongings, shoved them into his leather messenger bag, and together they left the office.
“By the way,” Reid said once they were in his truck. “Remember Muriel and the missing money from that church in Beaverton?”
Avery looked at him curiously. He’d assumed the cops had been called and the manager arrested, but he hadn’t thought of the case since they left the office that day. There were too many other things on his mind. “Yeah. Why?”
“Turns out it was good old Muriel skimming from the tithes all along. One of the police bureau’s forensic accountants figured it out. She was casting suspicion on Louis Abbott to cover her own tracks. Pastor Johnson called me this morning.” Reid chuckled and shook his head. “It’s unusual, though. I hadn’t scented any deception from her. People rarely surprise me.”
Avery snorted. “You’re lucky, then. They usually surprise the hell out of me.”
“ARE YOU
sure you have to go to work?” Dylan breathed the words into Avery’s ear and smiled when he felt his mate shiver beneath him.
“I… um… client’s wife is only…. Saturday…,” Avery mumbled and cut off with a groan when Dylan closed his teeth over his mating bite. Dylan rumbled his pleasure at the soft drag of Avery’s fingers splayed on his bare chest.
Dylan chuckled into Avery’s neck. “Mmm, sure you can’t make time?”
Saturday mornings were for sleeping in and hot, sweaty playtime in the sheets and more sleeping. Dylan had given his guys the day off, and he’d been looking forward to spending the entire day with his mate. Then Avery had muttered something about following a cheating housewife. Dylan was pulling out all the stops to keep him there for a little while longer. He loved the feel of Avery’s firm, compact body quivering beneath him, loved the sounds he made. He’d envisioned cuddling Avery into the late morning hours to separate the hot, sweaty, sexy times he was ready to bring down onto his lover. But those plans were apparently not happening, so he wasn’t above doing what he had to in order to get a bit of extra time.
Which was why he raked his thumb over Avery’s nipple and watched it pebble in response to his touch. Avery gasped. Licking and nipping his way across Avery’s collarbone then chest, Dylan finally drew the stiff peak between his lips, reveling in Avery’s moaning whimpers until Avery rolled out from under him.
“What?” Surprised, Dylan fell to his side and caught his mate’s flushed expression of want. He reached for Avery to draw him back and had his hand slapped away.
“No.” Avery inhaled a visibly shaky breath, then sat up. “I know what you’re doing, and I have to go. I told you that.” Standing, he looked back, his eyes devouring Dylan’s nude form, and then he turned on his heel and walked away with a wistful sigh. Dylan didn’t miss the regret in his eyes. “What are you doing today?” Avery’s voice echoed off the tiles in the bathroom.
“Not you apparently,” Dylan grumbled. He looked down at his hard cock. “What good is having a mate if I’m not getting off in the morning?” He dropped to the bed.
Avery peeked his head through the doorway and stared pointedly at Dylan’s still exposed hard-on, then arched a brow at him. “That’s what you’re going with?”