Blood Trail

the people who might suspect on the other. Get the input of everyone in the family."

    "We can do that, no problem." Peter heaved a sigh of relief and bounded to his feet.
    Apparently the fact that she and Henry operated as a team had come as no surprise to him.
    Vicki wondered what Henry had told them before she arrived. "First thing tomorrow," she buried the slug in tissues and sealed it into one of the small freezer bags she always carried in her purse, "I'll drop this off at ballistics and see if they can tell me anything about the rifle it came from."

    "But Colin said ..." Rose began.

    Vicki cut her off. "Colin said it would lead to awkward questions. Well, it would in London and, considering your family's situation, it's not the sort of thing you want talked about. Good cops remember the damnedest bits of information and Colin handing around silver bullets could lead to your exposure later on. However," she pitched her voice for maximum reassurance, "this is Toronto. We have a much broader crime base, God forbid, and the fact that I was handing around a silver bullet won't mean squat even if someone does remember it."

    She paused for breath and tucked the small plastic bag containing the tissues and the slug down into a secure corner of her purse. "Don't expect anything though, this thing is a mess."

    "We won't. And we'll tell Aunt Nadine to expect you on Friday night." Peter smiled at her with such complete and utter gratitude that Vicki felt like a heel for even considering refusing to help. "Thanks, Ms. Nelson."

    "Yes, thank you." Rose stood as well and added her quieter smile to the brilliance of her brother's. "We really appreciate this. Henry was right."

    What Henry was right about this time got a little lost with Peter shucking off his shorts. Vicki supposed she'd have to get used to it but at the moment all that naked young man left her a little distracted. The reappearance of Storm came as a distinct relief.

    He shook himself briskly and bounded toward the door.

    "Why ..." Vicki began.

    Rose understood and grinned. "Because he likes to ride with his head out the car window."
    She sighed as she stuffed the discarded shorts back into her bag. "He's such lousy company in a car."

    "Well, he certainly seems anxious to get going."

    "We don't like the city much," Rose explained, her nose wrinkling. "It stinks. Thanks again, Ms. Nelson. We'll see you Friday."

    "You're welcome." She watched Henry walk Rose to the door, warn them to be careful, and return to the living room. The look on his face rerouted the accusation of high-handedness she was about to make. "What's wrong?"

    Both red-gold brows rose. "My friends are being killed," he reminded her quietly.

    Vicki felt herself flush. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's hard to hang onto that amidst all the," she waved a hand as she groped for the word, "strangeness."

    "It is, however, the important thing to be hung onto."

    "I know. I know." She forced herself not to sound sullen. She shouldn't have had to be reminded of that. "You never thought for a moment that I might say no, did you?"

    "I've come to know you over these last few months." His expression softened. "You need to be needed and they need you, Vicki. There aren't too many private investigators they can trust with this."

    That was easy to believe. As to her needing to be needed, it was a facetious observation that could easily be ignored. "Are all the wer so," she searched for the right word and settled on,
    "self-contained? If my family were going through what theirs is, I'd be an emotional wreck."

    Somehow he doubted that, but it was still a question that deserved answering. "From the time they're very young, the wer are taught to hide what they are, and not only physically; for the good of the pack you never show vulnerability to strangers. You should consider yourself honored that you got as much as you did. Also, the wer tend to live much more in the present than humans do. They mourn their dead, then they get on with life. They don't carry the burden of yesterday, they don't anticipate tomorrow."

    Vicki snorted. "Very poetic. But it makes it nearly impossible for them to deal with this sort of situation, doesn't it?"

    "That's why they've come to you."

    "And if I wasn't around?"

    "Then they'd die."

    She frowned. "And why couldn't you save them?"

    He moved to his usual place by the window, leaning back against the glass. "Because they won't let me."

    "Because you're a