Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf Book 1) (28 page)

I jabbed my finger at the merchant accounts for the transactions. “This is a store located in the mountains.”

“And all of the accounts have records from this merchant?”

“They sure do,” I replied, adjusting the spreadsheet filters to show only transactions associated with the store’s ID. “What I’d like to do is get every record we have from this store and compare them with our other employees. It might give us a clue who might be targeted next.”

“That’s not going to be easy or legal,” Anderson warned.

“Neither was pulling these records to begin with, but we did it anyway. We have a responsibility to our people, Anderson. If it lets us protect our employees, it’s worth it. I don’t care why they’re out visiting West Virginia. That’s their business. However, if their visiting this store is linked to their deaths, it’s worth pursuing. My only concern is to stop more people from being killed.”

“I understand. I’ll call Amelia and see wh—”

“Not Amelia,” I interrupted, shutting my laptop with a thunk. “She’s been hit hard enough, covering this first set of transactions. Contact Natalie, the CEO of Oleran’s branch. She’s straight laced, but as soon as you tell her why we want those records—that we have a chance of finding out who murdered our people and why—she’ll bend enough to help us get them.”

“Amelia has been under a great deal of stress. It doesn’t feel right cutting her out like this, though.”

I shook my head. “Too much stress. We can do this without burdening her. I think it’s time to bring Natalie in on this.”

“You’re marking Natalie to be Amelia’s replacement, aren’t you?”

Twisting around in my chair, I looked up at Anderson, arching a brow. “What makes you say that?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Amelia won’t live forever. None of us will, Elliot. When Amelia’s ready to retire, I want Natalie ready. It’s time to test her mettle. It’s time to see if she understands the difference between staying within the lines of the law and doing what’s right.”

“And violating our employee’s privacy is right?”

“How many funerals do you want to attend, Anderson? How many children do you want to see torn from their mothers or fathers? How many mothers do you want grieving for their sons and daughters?”

Anderson flinched.

I reached up and gave him a solid swat on his shoulder. “Look at it this way. Here’s your chance to be a hero.”

“I’m not sure I’d call this heroic,” he admitted.

“They might never know it, but you’d be a hero to the ones who don’t have to suffer through the loss of their loved ones. Chin up. We might not be doing something completely legal, but at least we’re doing something. If it saves even one life, it’ll be worth it.”

“Even if we spend the rest of our lives in prison?”

“That’s why we try not to get caught, Elliot. Are you going to call Natalie?”

His eyes met mine. He sighed, low and long. “I’ll call.”

~*~

The ringing of my cell woke me. With bleary eyes and a head full of cotton, I swiped my finger across the damaged screen.
“Hello?”

“Ms. Hanover? I’m sorry to wake you. It’s Dr. Engleburg.”

I sat up, and the covers fell off of me and onto Emily. The girl didn’t stir. Anderson’s snores rumbled in his chest. “It’s fine. What time is it?”

“Just after five in the morning,” the doctor replied.

I slipped out of bed and stalked into the bathroom. The tiles were cold beneath my feet. I shut the door. “Okay, what do you have for me?”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get in touch with you, Ms. Hanover. I didn’t want to call until I all of the results were in.”

“That’s fine. That was a good judgment call.” Locking the bathroom door, I put the toilet seat down, sat, and stretched my feet out to rest them on the jacuzzi. “What can you tell me?”

“When I ran the initial autopsy, I didn’t find anything conclusive to indicate that Samantha died of anything other than natural causes. However, what you told me matched with her physical condition. She was in extremely good shape for her age. Her physical health was on par with someone twenty years younger. She shouldn’t have died from a heart attack, Ms. Hanover. So, as you requested, I had a closer look.”

“Find anything?”

“Her blood tests came back with an oddity.”

“An oddity? What sort of oddity?”

“Whatever killed Samantha wasn’t natural, Ms. Hanover. It isn’t something I’ve seen before.” Dr. Engleburg sighed.

“Give it to me in layman’s terms.”

“The official labs on the blood tests were inconclusive, but I ran a series of tests on my own. I ruled out things like anemia early. It was when I started comparing against infectious diseases that I found something interesting.”

“Diseases, Dr. Engleburg?”

“Yes. There are quite a few organisms and diseases which live in the bloodstream. Some are harmless, some aren’t. At first glance, I thought it was just some form of virus. With heart attack victims, the labs don’t look too closely at all of the various things in the bloodstream, you must understand. They won’t usually report things like basic colds unless it was a factor in the cause of death. Some think that’s too much work.” Dr. Engleburg fell quiet.

“Go on.”

“This is going to sound like an insane question, but bear with me a second.”

“Just ask,” I snapped.

“Did Samantha go to any zoos or get in close proximity with any monkeys in the days before her death?”

“No. Why?”

“Because after a close comparison of infectious diseases and the organism in her bloodstream, I found a similar match.” I heard a chair squeak on the other end of the line. “ There are some notable differences in what I found in her bloodstream versus
Zaire ebolavirus
, fortunately for all of us.”

“
Zaire ebolavirus
? You mean ebola? The disease from Congo?”

“The same.”

I felt my eyebrows rise. “Ebola is a pretty nasty disease, isn’t it? How did Samantha get it?”

“Remember,” Dr. Engleberg paused. I waited for him to continue. “It’s not exactly
Zaire ebolavirus,
which is good for us. From what I can tell from the samples I’ve taken and the experimentation I’ve done, it isn’t contagious, for one. It’s non-aggressive compared to the real ebola. They just
look
similar under the microscope. But, here is where it gets interesting. It does seem that this organism had attacked certain parts of Samantha’s body, including her heart. There was no sign of actual hemorrhaging, except for a small spot in her heart. In normal conditions, that’s called a murmur. It was low grade, but on second examination of her heart, there was a high concentration of these ebola-like cells.”

“So this disease killed her?”

“So it seems, Ms. Hanover. Unfortunately, without an extensive amount of research into this new organism, I can’t tell you any more than that. I’ll be blunt: What do you want me to do with the samples of this disease? I’ve never seen this before. It could be important. It might not be.”

“Do whatever you feel best, Dr. Engleburg. Research it, if you desire. Please email me with the information for the next charity drive done by your hospital, and I will ensure you get your donation. I’ll provide you with a list of organizations and names the donations will be coming from.”

“Thank you very much, Ms. Hanover. I’ll keep researching this disease and see if I can find out any more information for you. I will email you the complete report from my private email address this afternoon once I’m off shift.”

Dr. Engleburg hung up. I stared at the shattered screen of my phone. It was tempting to throw my cell across the room just for the satisfaction of watching the blasted thing fly apart into a hundred pieces. Instead, I set it on the vanity.

It wasn’t proof of wrongdoing, but I couldn’t imagine how else Samantha would have contracted a disease with similarities to ebola without magical intervention. I turned on the taps to fill the jacuzzi.

If her death and her contraction of the disease hadn’t been natural, how had the Inquisition done it?

Dr. Engleburg’s call left me with many more questions than answers.

The store associated with the charges on the werewolves’ accounts was a tiny gas station where the only road in the area ended. A dirt and gravel trail barely big enough for a car led into the mountains.

“Stay here, all of you,” I ordered. Anderson swallowed and looked like he wanted to protest, but nodded. Both of the kids whined. “Do you want anything?”

“Beef jerky,” Emily announced in her most solemn tone.

“Nothing,” Alex mumbled.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Anderson’s mouth. “Coke, please.”

“Plllleeease,” Emily sang.

Kids. I chuckled and got out of the car.

The store was larger than it looked from the outside, stocked with anything a camper might desire. A gray-haired man sat on a stool near the register, watching a tiny black and white TV.

I could smell the wolf in him from the door.

Bingo.

A sneeze burst out of me. The old man looked up with bloodshot eyes. “Good morning,” he said, his tone as dead as his expression.

“Good morning.” I didn’t fake a smile for him. Some grief couldn’t be cheapened like that. I didn’t want people grinning at me with fake sympathy over Samantha.

I didn’t want to be forced to smile, either.

I grabbed four packs of homemade beef jerky, four Cokes, and a case of bottled water. I thunked the items on the counter.

“That all, ma’am?”

I considered the bank accounts and the similarities in the totals and how the charges were handled. Then, I made a guess. “Twenty-eight in gas, please.”

The old man froze. Pretending I didn’t notice his reaction, I scratched at my nose to hold back another sneeze. “Of course,” he stammered.

As he busied himself behind the register, I let my wolf out for him to catch my scent. He jerked towards me, eyes wide.

“You’re not from around here,” he whispered, his scent souring with fear.

I leashed my beast, reaching in my purse for my allergy meds. Cracking open a can of Coke, I took a double dose. “I’m not. Is all of your pack dead?”

A flinch answered me. I tossed down my credit card, which he took with a trembling hand.

“I got two kids in the car,” I said, taking another sip of the too-sugary soda. “They smell like wolves. Their ma and pa are dead. I’m hunting werewolf hunters, and if you want your pack to keep on living, you’ll give me the info I need. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. Pack’s gone, even our pups. Four of us are left.”

I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. My instincts demanded I safeguard the Submissive wolf and his scattered pack. I was an Alpha. It was my duty.

But I wasn’t
his
Alpha. I didn’t dare risk it.

“Someone has been killing werewolves under my guard. I managed to save two pups, but it’s only a matter of time before they’re hunted, too. I tracked the pack to here. If you’re the last of them, you’ll be next. I need to know what happened to your pack.” I glanced at the front door of the shop. The pumps blocked my view of Anderson’s car.

“Six months ago, several of my pack were killed in car accidents. One was hit by a drunk driver. Another got sideswiped. Then… then the murders started. We thought it was a home robbery gone sour, taking out three of our pack…”

“But it’s not easy to kill a werewolf,” I said, leaning against the counter. I took another guess, entirely based on how excited Emily had been as we approached the mountains. “Then one of your pack was shot outside of her work.”

The old man’s eyes widened even more. “How did you know?”

“Emily and Alex are in the car. I picked them—”

With the speed only a werewolf possessed, he jerked around the counter and swept me up in a hug. I was spun in a full circle before he deposited me on my feet. “They’re
alive?”

He hugged me again.

The tears streaming down his face kept me quiet for a full minute before I couldn’t stand the stench of his wolf all over me. I growled, the sound rising from deep within my throat. He jerked away, face flushing a brilliant scarlet.

“Alpha,” he whispered.

“I’m no such thing,” I snapped. He recoiled back a step. I softened my tone. “Are they werewolves?”

“Emily was changed when she was two. Alex is a true born,” the old man replied, lowering his head and tilting his chin to the side to expose his throat.

My eyes widened. “A Submissive true born?”

True born werewolves, so far as I’d ever heard, were always Alpha.

“No.”

“No? He’s no Alpha, Pops.”

“Omega,” he whispered.

“Omega.” I feared my eyes were about ready to pop out of my skull. “He’s an Omega?” I pinched the bridge of my nose.