Page 26

Chapter twenty-six

T he door to the loft slammed open as Bob rushed in. “Boss, what’s going on?”

“Glad you made it,” Constantine said, as he sat on top of the kitchen island. With his paw he pointed behind him.

“You said it was an emergency.” Bob moved cautiously towards the back.

“We have a situation.” Bartholomew corrected him from his command post.

“My grandson is missing.” Mrs. Ella stood from the kitchen chair and marched over to Bob. “They are blaming him for the death of that idiot Roy.”

“Can we slow down here?” Bob raised his hand. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Mrs. Ella moved in front of the glass wall in the loft, motionless for several seconds. Bob glanced between Constantine and Bartholomew, but they only shook their heads.

“My grandson never made it home from the concert on Tuesday,” Mrs. Ella finally replied.

“Is that normal?” Bob took a seat at the table.

“Not Will,” she replied. “Unlike his wild father, Will is the responsible one in the family.”

Bob raised an eyebrow at that.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” she chastised him. “I’m not blind or na?ve enough to not know what my people do. I can admit their faults and strengths. Will is my hope for the clan. But nobody has seen him since Tuesday night.”

“Then why is he being blamed for the death of who?” Bob asked more calmly.

“Roy,” she repeated. “He was the werewolf that was gunned down last night. It seemed Will and Roy had an altercation over a girl on Tuesday. Roy had put a bounty on Will for taking the girl. Rumor has it Will took action first and had Roy killed.”

“Wow,” said Bartholomew from his post. “That is officially the best theory I have heard all week.”

“But I’m assuming that is not the case?” Constantine jumped in.

“That is not Will’s style.” Ella sat back on the chair next to Bob. “If Will had a problem with another shifter, he would challenge them to a fight. One on one. He wouldn’t be setting up hits on anyone. That’s the stuff you hear about in the big cities. Not in Texarkana.”

“But you still don’t know where he is?” Bob confirmed.

She shook her head.

“That means you do not know what he has done, or what really happened,” he pushed on.

“I’m still the matriarch of this clan.” Ella slapped the table, making it shake. “If anyone is holding something back from me, the punishment would not be pretty. No, Mr. Bob, while I can’t confirm anything, I know my grandson. He didn’t do it.”

“Does anyone know who the girl is?” Bartholomew changed the topic.

“That’s the other mystery,” she confessed. “Nobody from Roy’s crew recognized her. Just a girl with strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes. Gorgeous. They weren’t even sure if she was human or not.”

“Well, that’s not helpful,” Constantine informed them.

Bartholomew shook his head but made a few notes on his laptop.

“What was Will driving Tuesday?” Bob asked.

“His truck,” Ella answered, but quickly raised her hand. “Before you ask, we found his truck and his cell in front of the First Baptist Church on Morris Lane Wednesday morning.”

“Was the truck clean?” Bob leaned in.

“Are you asking if it had any blood?”

“That, too, but I was looking more for fingerprints.” Bob was at the edge of his seat.

“We didn’t inspect for it.” She lowered her face. “I know what you said about a war, Master Constantine, but,” she raised her face and her eyes glistened with tears, “if something happens to Will, the world can burn, but I will hunt everyone responsible for his death.”

“Have you ever considered someone is trying to start a war between the packs?” Bob asked her.

“Well, they are doing a great job.” Ella rose from her chair. “I’m giving you an opportunity to make this right. But if we find who did this first, I’ll make them pay.”

They watched her leave the loft with her head held high. Even in her pain, Mrs. Ella was the perfect picture of grace.

“I have people checking every park for another potential body,” said Bob, after the door closed behind Mrs. Ella. “Nothing has come up.”

“Let’s hope she finds nothing, as well,” Constantine told him, jumping from the counter to the table. “Where were you all morning? I stalled her as much as possible, but she finally came by herself.”

“Setting up extra security all over the parade route,” Bob explained. “Got calls from both the Texas and Arkansas police departments. They were getting bomb threats over the route.”

“Are they planning to cancel the parade?” Constantine asked.

“That would be the smart thing to do.”

“But,” Bartholomew finished for him.

“But we have over five thousand tourists in town for this parade.”

“Why?” Constantine screamed.

“The Arkansas side is closing the entertainment district at one to start the celebration,” Bob continued. “They have street venders all over the route, and tons of food trucks already set up downtown. This is now a full-on festival.”

“It’s a Thursday! Why aren’t people at work?” Constantine complained.

“Are schools closed?” Bartholomew added.

“Seriously? Does it look like I know all that?”

“This is horrible.” Bartholomew stated to everyone.

The door for the loft slammed open again, and this time Eugene busted through the door. “Snake poison!”

“Excuse us? What?” Bob asked, looking at the enraged Eugene.

“We were framed!” Eugene shouted.

“That seems to be the common theme today,” Bartholomew informed him. “Who framed you, and why?”

“The killer.”

Bob covered his eyes with his hands. “Why doesn’t anyone speak in complete sentences and from the beginning?”

“Eugene, we are not following you. What are you talking about?” Constantine asked the young man. “Rewind this whole thing and start over.”

“Who still rewinds things?” Eugene asked instead.

“Focus, Eugene, or Bob might strangle you,” Bartholomew warned him.

“Sorry about that.” Eugene waved his hands in the air. “I took back the three samples Doctor Angela gave me.” Using his hands, Bartholomew encouraged Eugene to speed up. “Yes, there were traces of Ecstasy, but it wasn’t ours. And it wasn’t what killed those men.” Eugene stopped to face the group.

“Eugene, if you don’t spill it, I’m going to use your back as a scratching post,” Constantine threatened.

“I’m trying to build the anticipation,” he told them.

“Get it over with,” Bob ordered.

“Fine.” Eugene started pacing around the table. “The Ecstasy was probably used to cover the traces of the Black Mamba venom and the other toxins we found.”

“You were serious. Snake venom killed them.” Bartholomew scrounged up his face in disgust.

“Not really,” Eugene replied rubbing his cheek. “Snake venom consume is non-toxic, but it was the use of it that made us curious.”

“How did we not find it?” Bob questioned him.

“It wasn’t easy. Whoever made this concoction is a pro, and with lots of magic,” Eugene continued. “The traces were almost invisible. It wasn’t until we found it in the most recent victim that we could detect in the others by searching for the venom.”

“That means this poison is rare?” Bartholomew asked.

“Rare and expensive,” Eugene told them. “Whoever your killer is, they are good. With friends in very dangerous places.”

“Eugene, we need to find this person now,” Bob informed him.

“Okay.” Eugene looked around the room. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Can you trace the poison to its source?” Bob asked.

“You have been watching way too much TV,” Eugene told him. “I barely found enough traces of it in their system. I had to get Angela to send me more samples. You want me to trace that to what? A random killer?”

“Yes?” Bob shrugged.

“Do I look like I have a crystal ball somewhere?”

“Don’t you know people?” Constantine jumped in. “You guys run the CDC. I’m sure there are some illegal labs registered you could track down.”

“It doesn’t work like . . .” Eugene stopped talking and pulled out his phone.

“Eugene?” Constantine asked softly.

“I.” Eugene was busy searching his phone. “That is random.”

“What?” Bob was on his feet next to Eugene.

“I actually know someone who specializes in snake venoms and exotic poisons.” Eugene showed them a picture on his phone. “He is expensive and has a very long wait list.”

“That’s perfect,” said Bob. “Call him.”

“Yeah, about that.” Eugene kicked the air with his foot. “I’m kind of blocked.”

“How can you be kind of blocked?” Bartholomew asked.

“I accidentally mentioned his name to the mistress.” Eugene tapped his lips with his finger. “Well, I was more bragging about how good he was with toxins as a free agent. Did I mention the mistress does not like competition?”

“Did she kill him?” Bartholomew asked.

“Worse?”

“What could be worse than death?” Bob jumped in.

“Herpes.”

“I completely understand why you are blocked,” Constantine told him.

“Now what?” Bob asked, shaking his head.

“This can’t be good,” Isis told them as she walked into the room.

“Isis!” Bartholomew rushed his sister. “How was the tea party?”

“Nobody died, so a huge success,” Isis told him. “What are you all plotting?” She went directly to the fridge and pulled out a bowl of cherries.

“We are trying to stop a potential war, and we almost had a lead but lost it,” Bob recapped for her.

“That sounds awful in so many ways,” Isis told them.

“I need to get back to the Station before this parade starts, or the war kicks off,” said Bob. “Bartholomew, I could really use your help on the ground.”

“Absolutely.” Bartholomew saluted.

“I can use the drone to monitor the streets,” Constantine volunteered.

“That would be a great help, boss.”

“Do you think we will need Angela and TJ on standby?” Bartholomew asked.

Bob thought about it for a minute. “Let’s not call them in yet. TJ finally had the evening off, and he was planning on asking Abby to the parade. She was pretty upset after the Order arrived.”

“Is she okay?” Isis asked.

“She hasn’t had the best experience with that group,” Bob explained.

“Who has?” Isis continued. “TJ would be good for her.”

“That’s what I said,” Bartholomew approved.

“Besides, if we end up needing medical support, he would be right there anyway,” Bob told them.

“Maybe if I just showed up at his door,” Eugene muttered to himself.

“Whose door?” Isis asked Eugene as she moved next to him.

“The toxin dealer in New York.” Eugene smiled at his old friend. “I just need to figure out how to get there and back before another werewolf is killed. By the way, you are looking gorgeous, Isis.”

“Thank you. But do you need a ride?” Isis asked him.

“What?”

“To New York City?” she added. “You do remember I can teleport?”

“You can do that!” Eugene shouted.

“I’m pretty good at it. Unless, Bob, you’d rather I help here?”

Everyone turned to face Bob, who realized this was his operation. “Actually, no.” Bob shook his head. “That is a brilliant idea. Isis, you and Eugene head to New York and see if you can find this toxin dealer and get some answers from him. Maybe we get lucky, and he knows the name of our killer.”

“My pleasure,” said Isis. “Let me change out of this dress and I’ll be ready in five.”

“I’ll be right here.” Eugene took a seat by the table and placed his phone down. “Do you think he would still be mad to see me?”

“Considering your boss gave him the gift that keeps on giving, I would say yes,” Constantine informed him. “Hopefully, this is the last time you need his services.”

“I hope so, too,” Eugene leaned back in the chair. “I can make coffee while we wait.”

“Eugene do not touch my kitchen appliances,” Bob warned the scientist. “Grab some juice from the fridge instead. Boss, let me know when you are ready to broadcast with the drone.”

“Will do. Be careful with the shifters.”

Bob saluted the cat and marched out the door.

“Meet you at the Station!” Bartholomew shouted.

“Make sure you are teleporting only in your office,” Bob reminded him. “I do not need any more scared people today.”

Bob took the stairs two at a time, trying to head back. He could have teleported back with Bartholomew, but he needed his vehicle. With all the strange things happening in Haven, the more firepower he could carry, the better he would feel. He really was hoping they didn’t find poor Will dead this evening.