Wolves of Haven: Lone (8 page)

Pierre wasn’t amused, not in the
least, and as much as he hated to admit it, the medical examiner
was right: the Royal Canadian Mounted Police had already inquired
as to the status of the case and warned that they would send
someone to oversee the Inspector’s progress if none was made. The
last time the RCMP put their noses in Pierre’s one and only high
profile case, it got him a one way ticket to the Island in a small
town called Haven.

The overly proud man knew he had to
swallow his pride otherwise his career would be over.

“Lieutenant, your expertise in the
matter would be appreciated,” he spit through clenched
teeth.

“Yes, I know,” Akia agreed. “The
weight of the badge forces those carrying it to help whenever a
case is in front of them, even if they are on vacation,” she said,
offering a concession in order to hide the truth of her visit. “The
fourth victim was different,” she said when he didn’t say anything.
She took it as his white flag of surrender, and returned to the
case. “He is starting to show finesse, but he’s still refining his
skill.”

Pierre scoffed. “You call this
finesse? Look at her!”

She gave him a look. “I am looking
at her, closely if you must know. He took his time with her… To
have that type of patience when torturing someone, reviving them
just so you can do it all over again, that takes great patience to
develop, thus resulting in finesse.”

Connell nodded; he was thinking the
same, and entertaining the idea was even more terrifying than the
thought of a killer running loose on the Island.

“To see it pre-autopsy would have
been most helpful,” Akia commented under her breath, irritated that
the first report was so poorly documented, and the second wasn’t
much better. Back in Boston, the M.E. knew that Akia liked to be
present for the autopsies; hearing that perspective of the case
from the experienced and knowledgeable lips of the M.E. always
helped her with the case in front of her. Seeing the result of
shoddy police work, which she would have to try to translate and
put together with limited resources, would prove to be irritating
and the risk of Eve making an appearance wasn’t something she was
willing to risk, especially in Haven.

“Funny you should mention that,”
Connell said, as if he could read her mind, and pushed the third
victim back into the locker then repeated with the fourth, getting
a dirty look from Pierre. “If the fourth was special, the fifth was
the prom queen,” he said, pulling out another drawer, and Akia’s
eyes widened; there was no report on a fifth victim. He unzipped
the body bag, and Pierre covered his nose with his
sleeve.

Inside was a darker skinned young
woman that was covered in blood; hair was matted to her head,
gashes and tears littered every inch of her body, and it looked as
if she had already been gruesomely autopsied with a steak knife on
the beach by a blind Wendigo with the shakes.

Father will have to wait in
holding a little longer,
Akia silently
huffed. She slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the back of
Connell’s desk chair then grabbed a disposable gown from the table
in the corner. “Permission to observe the autopsy, Sir,” she said,
looking over at Pierre.

He was taken aback because she
called him sir and was asking permission. “Of course,” he said,
motioning towards the body.

Officer Paquette scoffed. “You
cannot be serious. You’re just going to let someone that walked in
off the streets in on an active investigation?!” he asked in
disbelief. “For all we know she’s one of them, one of those cult
members from Verulfr Manor and is only here to get their leader
out! We have a suspect in custody, Sir, and that is where we should
be focusing our efforts, not on the bodies since one of their
cult,” he sneered eying Connell, and he smiled wide, “is most
likely withholding evidence already.”

Pierre gave the vociferous Officer
a warning look. “de Wolfe, I want the full report on my desk by the
end of the week.”

“Expect it tomorrow,” Akia said,
pulling on a pair of latex gloves once her hair was pulled back and
her gown was secured. “Doctor, let’s begin,” she said, turning to
Connell.

Seff shook his head as he read over
the charges they were holding his oldest friend on. “They’ll never
stand, we both know that,” he commented under his breath, much too
low for the irritable Inspector watching from the bullpen to
hear.

Beowulf chuckled. “I am well aware
of that, my old friend. They are simply reaching, though I have to
admit it was rather ingenious to leave the bodies just outside our
property where they knew I would be walking. Have I become a
creature of habit?” he mused.

Seff wasn’t amused in the least.
“This is bullshit, and we both know it. A Stray has broken the
cardinal rules and is now trying to pin these heinous crimes on the
family. I will not simply sit here and permit him to do
it.”

“Tell me, my old friend, what is it
that you would have us do?” Beowulf countered with a warm smile.
“Without evidentiary proof, as you lawyers say, they cannot pin
this on me-”

“And the Covenant?” he interrupted.
“What will the leaders say when the media starts stirring up
trouble in Haven of all places?”

Beowulf simply shrugged as if it
wasn’t a concern in the least. The man had seen witch hunts by the
media and church, those with overly active imaginations create
nothing but trouble with their teen-based books and movies, the
advancement of social media and electronics making what was once an
easy existence anything but. “The world is ever changing, and if
the Covenant cannot look past what some asshole wearing a badge
thinks and believes to be true, simply to persecute the stunningly
handsome target of this unseen threat, then I am afraid that there
is nothing that either of us can do, my old friend.”

Seff wasn’t amused with Beowulf’s
jovial attitude, but bit his tongue and continued to flip through
the finding-less report that was so graciously provided by
Inspector Pierre. “She came,” he said under his breath.

Beowulf smiled. “I know, and she
isn’t happy with me.”

“I wouldn’t be either if I hadn’t
been home in a decade then come home to find my father in jail, and
that it was a Stray that put him there.”

He sighed. “Yes, I suppose you have
point. Varg called her, didn’t he?”

“To my knowledge,” Seff admitted.
“Though, I didn’t commission him with the task. Connell drew the
short straw, and of course the first place she went was here
instead of home.”

“Trying to prevent the inevitable,”
he said.

“Or trying to secure your freedom,”
Seff countered. “She truly is dedicated to you, and I have to
respect her for that, as well as being dedicated to her chosen
career.”

A smile filled Beowulf’s tan face
and his chocolate brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I am
beyond proud of her,” he admitted. “From the scared creature she
was to the fearless, analytical minded woman that she is today
floods me with pride. I thought for sure that she might have been
lost to me forever, but she has succeeded where so many others have
failed.”

Seff nodded his agreement but
didn’t say anything.

When they returned from the Far
East with a skittish, tiny girl, Seff thought his oldest friend was
insane. The way Beowulf doted on the girl, the patience that he
showed her, and the love that was so clearly visible in his gaze
when he looked upon the tiny creature, irritated Seff. As Akia got
older, he didn’t particularly care for her because she didn’t stand
on her own two feet, in essence. Varg was her strength and sense of
protection; Connell her voice when she had none; Faelan the smile
that she was too timid to share; Rafe was her sense of camaraderie;
Louvel was the acceptance of her outlook even though she had never
expressed it aloud; and Beowulf saw her as the embodiment of
perfection.

Being the overly protective of the
family and the paranoid one, Seff couldn’t grasp how so many strong
creatures could undermine themselves in order to accommodate the
single creature that would bring ruin to the family. Akia wasn’t
much; she was small and rail thin, weak and had no sense of
confidence or self-worth, and didn’t even make eye contact with
people. Very rarely did she speak, and she buried her nose in
books, in the past, in order to not deal with the present or
future. When Akia ran away a decade ago, Seff thought it was a
blessing, but it quickly became apparent that when she left, a part
of those that loved her left with her and those he called brother,
friend, nephew and cousin were only a mere reflection of the men
they once were, and he hated Akia for it.

Over the years, her absence was
still felt by those that called her sister, niece and daughter, but
as reports of Akia’s accomplishments in her new life in Boston made
their way back to Haven, the loss of her absence wasn’t as severe.
They still felt abandoned by her, especially after everything they
had done for weak creature, but they eventually found acceptance in
her absence. As much as Seff wanted to dislike her, the woman she
had grown and matured into was one that he could respect, and that
was more than he ever thought she could be.

“How long before I can go home?”
Beowulf asked with a chuckle; he wanted to see Akia before she
headed back to Boston.

“With the latest body found less
than a kilometer from the estate,” Seff said, rubbing a hand over
his polished bald head, “it’s hard to say. They’ll want to search
the manor, but there isn’t enough evidence to warrant that yet.
Voluntarily permitting them to search might give us some ground
with the Inspector, however there is the obvious problem with that.
The boys have done the needful, and Kid has been kept offline since
that brat goes out of his way to find trouble… His hacking skills
are as criminal as they are impressive.”

He chuckled. “As strange as that
blue hair child is, he truly is impressive and coming along well.
Lou has done a wonderful job with him.”

“You two and your Strays,” Seff
grumbled under his breath.

“
My old friend, you were once a
Stray,” Beowulf reminded him with a smile and reassuring pat of the
hand. “Haven is just that, a haven for Strays that deserve one, and
that is why we must address this problem proactively and
aggressively. Discretion might not be an option any longer, but we
must try.”

Seff nodded his understanding;
discretion meant hiding a body and securing proof of death for the
Covenant.

There was a knock at the door of
the interrogation room Beowulf and Seff were sitting in before
Connell popped his head inside. “Has the defense rested?” he
mused.

“Is the M.E. done with the report
on the latest body?” Seff asked, not amused in the
least.

“Yes, and the ball breaking
Lieutenant that crawled up my ass for the entire autopsy is
brokering the terms of the suspect’s release as we speak. It might
be house arrest with a babysitter from Boston, but it’s better than
the cinderblock and metal cot the Inspector was ready to offer,” he
explained.

Seff softly growled under his
breath. “Findings?”

Connell cocked a black eyebrow.
“Later,” he said, and they nodded their understanding.

Pierre and Akia joined them.
“Pending the most recent findings,” Pierre started, glaring at
Beowulf, “and our limited resources, you will be released with
conditions.”

“And those are?” Seff asked, acting
as legal representation.

“House arrest,” Akia said, giving
him a look. “Your client will be required to check in three times a
day at set times from a landline phone, if a check in is missed it
will revoke the terms of the release agreement. Also, due to the
medical conditions of your client a home monitoring device will not
be an option, thus your client will be required to have onsite
supervision. I have no allegiance or ties to your client or the
Haven Police Department, thus I will be an impartial receiver, of
sorts, and Dr. Dreary has assured me that the amenities would be
accommodating for an officer of the law, regardless of my badge
being State issued. Does your client agree to the conditions of the
release?” she asked in a cold, detached tone.