The Keepers Story 01 - The Gatekeeper

“Take care, buddy.”
    “Will do. Thanks,” Saxon said.
    McMurtree drove away, and Saxon stood there for a long moment, considering the state of his investigation.
    So...it wasn’t the stripper and it wasn’t the tough new wolf in town—who wasn’t so tough, anyway. And he’d never thought it was a shifter in wolf’s clothing, much less some human nutcase. Given everything he knew about the man and everything he’d learned today from Calleigh and Taylor, there was only one person—one werewolf—it could be.
    Carl Bailey.
    But that bastard was too clever by half. No way was he doing his own dirty work. Nope, Carl was definitely not working alone.
    Saxon glanced at his watch. It was time to head out to ranch country.
    He would keep his meeting with Calleigh brief, just long enough to tell her that he had what looked like a decent lead, and if she stayed home and played it safe, he had a chance of finding her sister.
    But when he got to the address she had given him, Calleigh wasn’t there.
    He knocked, and the door was opened by an awkward young man with a baby face and the look of a dreamer in his eyes.
    It had to be Dirk, human owner of the house.
    “You the cop?” Dirk asked anxiously. When Saxon nodded, the other man rushed on. “Calleigh’s been telling me about you. She said you sounded as if you really care. You have to help. I don’t know what to do. Like now. I don’t get it.”
    “What don’t you get?” Saxon demanded. He grasped the younger man’s shoulder, steadying him, looking into his eyes, demanding silently that he get a grip.
    “I don’t know what happened. She was here, right here. I was just out back, feeding the horses, and I heard her say someone was coming. I thought she was talking about you, but when I came back in she—”
    “Dirk, where’s Calleigh?” Saxon interrupted.
    “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! She’s gone, and I don’t know where!”

Chapter 5
    G one? Calleigh was gone? Saxon could barely wrap his mind around it. Was this revenge because he’d arrested Jimmy Taylor? Or had Calleigh’s amateur investigation made her too noticeable—and too dangerous—in the eyes of Carl Bailey?
    And did any of that matter in light of the possibility that she might have fought back against her kidnappers and gotten hurt, or been dragged away half dead?
    “How long ago?”
    “Ten minutes.”
    “Did you hear a car? Were the horses acting up?”
    “Um, yeah.” Dirk stared at him blankly. “Yeah, sure, the horses were going crazy.”
    Saxon turned and hurried back toward his car. Dirk ran after him. “Hey, what do you want me to do? Should I call more cops?”
    Saxon swung around. “Don’t do anything or call anyone. Get back in the house and stay there.”
    Saxon waited long enough to make sure Dirk did as instructed, then got in his car and drove away. He didn’t go far, though: just down the road. Then he parked, got out and headed back toward Dirk’s place, making sure to stay out of sight as he carefully approached the house.
    He heard one whinny from out back, but that was it. Horses had a tendency to like Elven.
    They were fearful around werewolves.
    And Dirk had been dating an Elven, so he knew about the other races, which meant not only that he could have known what the horses’ behavior meant, but that he had known it. So he’d neglected to offer the key piece of information: the horses had been acting up....
    Saxon slipped close to the rear of the house, where French doors leading out to the back had been left slightly ajar.
    He moved in closer, listening. He could hear Dirk talking to someone on the phone.
    “Yes, I know for sure he headed out. He left five minutes ago, at least. If Jimmy told him what he was supposed to, he’ll be heading straight out to the lair—alone. He even told me not to call any other cops.”
    Dirk never heard Saxon enter, never heard him move. All he felt was the cold steel of Saxon’s semiautomatic as he pressed the muzzle next to his ear.
    “Ask him about your reward,” Saxon whispered.
    He was afraid that Dirk was going to fall down, his terror was so great.
    “Man up and ask, or you’ll be eating bullets for your last supper,” Saxon warned.
    “Hey, um, when do I get what you promised?” Dirk managed. His voice wasn’t entirely steady, but it would pass muster.
    Saxon heard the angry words coming from the other end. “You’ll get your payment soon enough. You gave us the one girl, we’ll