Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

sneaking.
     I saw you sometimes, you know, and—”
    “You thought I was a neighbor.”
    “Yeah, but aren’t you supposed to—hey!”
    He’d stopped so abruptly she almost smacked into him. “Back!”
    “What?”
    “Go back up. Quick.”
    But he didn’t wait for her to obey, grabbing her and turning her physically, which
     pissed her off and got her heart scared. He shoved. Her feet obeyed him even as her
     heartbeat went crazy. “What is it? What’s happening?”
    “Patrick sounded the alert. Move faster.”
    Patrick? Who was Patrick? What alert? She hadn’t heard anything—but she didn’t have
     lupi hearing, and his hand was urging her to move, move faster, and she took the stairs
     as fast as she could so that all she heard were her own feet, her own breath coming
     hard and rough.
    She reached the third-floor landing. His hand left her back for her shoulder, and
     he pushed down and gave a piercing whistle. She went to her knees, dazed and frightened
     and wondering what—
    “Get flat!” he ordered, but he didn’t pause to see if she obeyed. He spun back around
     and leaped. Leaped down the stairs, his arms spread so that one brushed the wall,
     as if he wanted to make himself the biggest target possible. Leaped right at the man
     racing up the stairs with a gun pointed up at him.
    The sound of the shots was deafeningly loud in the closed-in space.

TWENTY-THREE

    C ARRIE Ann Rucker was fifty-nine, a placid woman with graying blond hair and a crooked front
     tooth that lent a certain charm to her smile. She owned a small handcrafted jewelry
     store and was wearing a sample of her merchandise with her neatly pressed jeans and
     white blouse—a pretty pair of chandelier earrings.
    She also worked as a mule for a drug cartel. Her only arrest had never made it to
     the grand jury, thanks to some clumsiness on the part of the arresting officer and
     a very expensive lawyer. One who also worked for said cartel.
    “And you never looked inside the bag,” Lily said.
    “He asked me not to, and I agreed. I do believe in keeping my word, don’t you?”
    One of the interesting things about Carrie Ann was the way her attention stayed with
     Lily. Sure, Rule wasn’t saying much, but people always noticed him. Especially women.
     Even if Carrie Ann was wired for women, Lily would expect her to take more interest
     in a guy who occasionally turns into a wolf. “That seems like an odd thing to ask.
     Even odder that you agreed.”
    Carrie Ann smiled comfortably. “I’m not a very curious person.”
    “Remarkably incurious, considering you’ve been arrested for transporting illegal substances
     in the past. Substances you had no idea someone had planted in your car,” Lily said
     dryly. “Hard to believe you wouldn’t want to make sure this man you’d never met before
     wasn’t taking advantage of your helpful nature.”
    “He had such a good vibe. I’m sure it was all perfectly innocent.”
    “Are you, now? And yet the FBI takes very little interest in scavenger hunts.”
    Carrie Ann just smiled.
    Lily looked down at her notes, wondering how much longer to push. Carrie Ann was a
     pro. She knew what to say and when to shut up, and she was enjoying herself way too
     much. She knew damn well Lily didn’t have a lever to pry loose any actual facts. Sure,
     she’d given them a description of the “nice older man” she met at the park, but that
     only meant that whoever really had her make the drop looked nothing like the guy she’d
     described.
    Lily looked up from her notes. “That’s what he said he was doing, right? Setting up
     a scavenger hunt for the grandkids. He asked you to leave a Macy’s shopping bag at
     the base of the Dutch windmill. He specifically asked you not to look inside.”
    “That’s right.”
    “He was a white male, about seventy. He had white hair, thick for a man his age. You
     don’t remember what he was wearing, but you’re sure you would have noticed if he’d
     been in a suit.”
    “No one wears suits on Saturday at the park, do they?”
    “You think he may have been wearing glasses, but you aren’t sure about that, either.
     And you don’t know his name.”
    “He must have told me,” she said apologetically, “but I don’t remember it. And I think
     the bag was from Macy’s,but it might have been Nordstrom’s. I shop at both places, and I’m sure it was from
     one of them.”
    Rule touched Lily’s arm lightly and stood. She glanced up.