At least at the time it did. But I swear, Mr. Marchand, I didn’t know it was you. I had no idea you were there or that… When I figured it out, afterward… When I read the story in the paper and all… I went to my brother right away. Frank, he told me I needed to talk to you, straighten things out.”
“Your brother has more common sense than you do.” Raoul snorted. “Who paid you to do this?”
“I…I’d rather not say.”
“That’s too bad. I think you really
should
say.” Raoul took another step and the man threw up his hands in self-defense.
“I can’t!” he whimpered, visibly cowering before Raoul’s wrath.
“Wait, you knew who I was and where I’d be, you said?”
Alexx interjected, lightly touching Raoul’s arm, stemming his advance.
“Yeah, I did.” The man turned desperate eyes to Alexx, as if realizing he were the calmer of the two men he faced, and the only thing that stood between him and being mauled by an angry werewolf.
“And you were being paid to chase him from Charisma here, to
these
woods in particular?” Raoul picked up the question.
Cramer nodded. Breathing hard, he looked back and forth between them in perplexity.
“That means it was someone who knew I’d be there. And knew what night it was. Remember what I said before?” Ignoring the intruder, Raoul turned his attention to Alexx. “In my office?”
Alexx’s eyes grew big. “Oh yeah. You said that you thought maybe it wasn’t me being set up. That the wolf was supposed to kill this guy.” He jerked a thumb in Cramer’s direction.
“Hey, say what?” A startled Cramer took several steps toward them, away from the tree. At Raoul’s growl, he beat a hasty retreat.
“Kill m-me?” he stammered.
“That makes sense. Or maybe both of you. Then there would be no witness, no one to know who orchestrated everything. Your so-called benefactor hung you out to dry, Cramer. Dead men tell no tales. So what happened afterward? Did you get mad and take it out on that other guy?”
“Louis,” Alexx prompted.
“Louis,” Raoul repeated. “Since you didn’t get your primary targets, did you kill Louis to appease your boss?”
“I told you, I’m no killer. And I never killed that Louis guy.
Never even saw him. I phoned in my report and laid low, so Fo—”
He clapped his hands to his mouth, as if afraid he’d said too much.
“If you didn’t kill Louis, then who did? Don’t be stupid. Give me his name. If you don’t tell me, it’ll only be a matter of time until he gets you, too. He’s not a wolf, is he?” Raoul held his breath and prayed that he’d not been betrayed by one of his own.
He knew if it was one of his own pack, that knowledge would destroy what his father had worked so hard to build over the years, tarnish the image of werewolves and the acceptance they’d
grudgingly garnered. He was under no illusion that he himself had no enemies, but surely not among his own kind. Could he really have sunk so low in their estimation over the past twenty years?
“I don’t know…” Cramer muttered, unconvinced. “This guy’s family has clout in this town. And money.”
“As much as the Marchands?” Alexx injected. “They’re the most important family in Crescent Bay. Who else compares?”
“It’s close enough that I don’t want to be in trouble with them either.”
Raoul began to pace, back and forth, careful to keep himself between Alexx and Cramer. He was holding himself back. His inclination was to force the information from the man, but Alexx’s calming influence held him in check. Besides, as he’d just observed, dead men told no tales and what good would that do? He replayed in his head what Cramer had started to say, trying to make sense of it, match the brief spitting out of the few syllables he’d let slip to people he knew. Trouble was he knew so damn many people in Crescent Bay.
Suddenly he stopped in mid-stride, staring at Cramer with incredulous eyes. “Are you shitting me?”
“What?” The man looked uncertainly between Raoul and Alexx.
“What is it, Raoul?” Alexx echoed.
“Foster Levine,” Raoul breathed out. “It was Foster who sold me out, wasn’t it?” It was a random guess, but the terror he saw reflected in Cramer’s eyes confirmed his suspicions.
Alexx gave a long low whistle. “Holy shit,” he breathed.
“Holy shit indeed.” Foster? Really? But why? Having the name of the man who’d set them up still explained nothing. It also didn’t provide any answers as to the death of Louis, either, which didn’t
put him out of the woods. Not if Cramer was telling the truth when he said he had nothing to do with it.
“Oh God, oh God,” Cramer began to moan, almost piteously. “I didn’t tell you, remember? I never said. He won’t believe me, though. He’s going to kill me. I have to get out of town. Like ten minutes ago.”
“No!” Raoul’s voice cracked sharply in the air. “You can’t leave. I need you to stay and testify to what you know.”
“Are you crazy?” Cramer’s voice broke. “Do I look like I have a death wish to you?” He shook his head vehemently, and Raoul was hard put not to slap him into a semblance of rationality, but Alexx’s touch stayed him.
“No to both,” Raoul managed through gritted teeth. “I’ll make sure you stay safe. I just need a chance to figure out what’s going on, and to gather enough evidence to prove my innocence.”
“Can you do that?” Alexx asked.
“The pack has safe houses that are only known to other members. Houses Foster doesn’t know about. He can just disappear until this is all over.”
“I don’t know—” Cramer swallowed the end of his sentence at the glare he received from Raoul.
“Well, I
do
know. It’s either I get you to a safe house or I leave you on the streets where Foster can reach you. If, as I suspect, he’s the one who killed Louis, what do you think he’ll do to you?”
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right.” Raoul pulled his new cell phone from his pocket and made a short call. Less than ten minutes after he’d hung up, a dark sedan appeared. It sped across the parking lot and pulled up with a screech near their cars, the passenger door opening as a short, dark-haired man emerged. He loped across the grass toward
them.
“Hey, Raoul, I came as quickly as I could.”
“I appreciate that, Ervin. This is Patrick. He’s going to be our guest, hopefully not for long. You know what to do.”
“I do.” He turned toward the nervous man, and began to grin, revealing a row of highly-polished teeth. Cramer trembled.
“Um, you don’t… I mean, you won’t…”
Ervin began to laugh. “Dude, that’s so old-school.” He shook his head as he latched onto his arm. “C’mon. Dave’s waiting for us. We have places to go.”
“Take him by wherever he’s staying, see if it looks safe and let him pick up a few things,” Raoul directed. “Then call me when you get to the safe house. And don’t forget to stash his car, too.”
“Will do, boss.” He raised a hand to his forehead, gave Raoul a sharp salute that earned him a playful cuff on the side of his head and a low growl.
“Funny guy.” Raoul grew serious. “Thank you for this. I appreciate it.”
“Does Philippe know?”
“He will. That’s our next stop.”
Ervin gave Alexx a curious stare. Raoul slung a possessive arm about his lover’s waist. “This is Alexx, Ervin. You’ll be seeing a lot of him from now on.”
Ervin’s grin grew even broader. He turned toward Alexx. “Nice to meet you, Alexx. I’d stay and chat, but you see how it is.” Not waiting for a reply, he herded Patrick toward the waiting car.
Once the vehicle had disappeared from the parking lot, Raoul pulled Alexx into his arms, and they stood together, holding one another.
“Why would Foster want to do that to you? I thought you were
friends?”
“Friends? Acquaintances, more like it. We were…more than that, I guess, once. But that was a long time ago. Hell, I don’t even remember it. It was right after… Well, I wasn’t in my right mind or I wouldn’t have.” Raoul shrugged. “But we aren’t what you really call close. I mean, he hints at wanting more, but I…” He fell silent, as a terrible thought reared its ugly head, before he pushed it aside.
“Maybe he’s in love with you?” Alexx suggested. “Maybe he didn’t get over you as much as you got over him?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. And I don’t want to think about it right now. Let’s go see my father and tell him everything we know. I’ll call him and tell him we’re on our way. Maybe he’ll have a suggestion, think of something we’ve overlooked.”
“That sounds like a marvelous idea.”
One good thing, it seemed as though the vendetta was directed toward Raoul, not the pack. Even so, he knew he had to tell his father. It was the sensible thing to do.
*
Raoul’s mother met them at the door with hugs for both of them. She brushed aside their apologies. “We’ll make it another time. That’s the advantage of having your own restaurant. You can always get a table.” She winked at them playfully. They followed her into the house.
The interior of the beach house was as gracious and warm as Raoul’s mother, not stuffy at all. A house for living in, obviously, being comfortable in. Light and airy, done up in soft blue and beige, with a killer view of the ocean through the many glass doors that lined the back of the house. “Your father’s waiting in the study. Do you drink hot tea, Alexx?”
“Yes, ma’am—” he began but she shook her head.
“Eleanor, please.”
“Yes, ma—Eleanor,” he hastily amended, rewarded with her brilliant smile, so much like Raoul’s.
“I know what you like, of course.” This was to Raoul. “Go on, I’ll bring everything down in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Mother.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek before taking Alexx by the hand, leading him down a hallway that lay off the living area. Pausing at a door on the left hand side, Raoul knocked and was answered with a “Come in” from within.
Alexx was floored at his first sight of Philippe Marchand’s study. Far from hiding the family’s dual nature, this room embraced the Marchand heritage. There were wolves everywhere.
Photographs and paintings graced the walls and sat upon the pecan-colored bookcases, while lifelike sculptures of varying sizes stood in assorted poses about the room. A slightly darker palette prevailed in this space. It was done in tans and ecrus and light gold
filaments that ornamented the pale overstuffed couch and chairs.
More floor-to-ceiling French doors gave access to the ocean just beyond, giving everything a picturesque quality.
Philippe rose at their entrance. He greeted them each with a handshake and waved them toward the couch, taking the chair adjacent. A look passed between father and son, and Alexx knew instinctively what it meant without having to be told. It was obvious to him. Raoul had not been here for twenty years, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. He’d been avoiding it ever since what had happened to Jamie. Guilt, remorse, pain…all of the above kept him away, most likely. Alexx reached for Raoul’s hand and held it tightly, seeking to ease his reentry, if he could. Half expecting Philippe to allude to the past, his suppositions were quickly laid to rest.
“What’s going on?” he asked Raoul, wasting no time in getting to the heart of the matter.
Raoul launched at once into the recital of events, beginning with the phone call he’d received at Charisma and ending with the clandestine meeting in the woods. Philippe listened carefully, making no comment or interrupting the narrative until Raoul had concluded. He leaned forward in his chair, looking between the two men.
“Foster Levine?” he repeated the name, a frown creasing his brow. “Are you sure this man’s telling you the truth? That’s a serious accusation to make, especially if, as you suspect, he’s the one who killed the man you’ve been accused of murdering.”
“I know it is, and I wondered about that myself, but if you’d been able to look into his eyes, to see his fear… Well, I think he was telling the truth. He didn’t have to come to me, and yet he did.”
“But why would Foster do this? You and he have been friends for years. Why would he want to do you harm?”
At that moment, a discreet rap on the door interrupted the conversation. Raoul hastily rose and answered it. Alexx could hear Eleanor’s voice, although she made no move to enter the room, despite Raoul’s entreaties. After a moment, Raoul had closed the door and returned, bearing a tray with a tea service on it. He busied himself in pouring three cups and handed them ’round before resuming his seat beside Alexx.
“Mother says she will talk to us before we go,” he informed him, before turning back to his father’s question. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend, more of an acquaintance.” Raoul hesitated for a moment, his eyes seeking Alexx’s before he continued. “A long time ago… Well, it was just after…Jamie died.” He stumbled on the words, but went on. “I let myself get caught up with Foster. I was…vulnerable. And not thinking clearly. I ended it quickly, but he’s been trying ever since… I’ve never encouraged him, but maybe it’s my fault for not putting him straight years ago. I thought he understood, but I guess I was wrong. I didn’t realize he still wanted what he thought we had, but now…now that’s the only thing that makes sense to me. I had no idea to what lengths he would go, though. I mean, to kill a man…”