Page 42 of Dark
“With her foster family for the afternoon. We thought it might be too much stress with so many people here.” Hooking an elbow through Ellie’s, Hayden dragged her towards the house. “Look. We brought pictures.”
Wrong answer. Ellie slowed, scrolling. “Shepherd mix?”
“Mm…hmm?”
“She’s big.”
“Especially when she’s standing on your—”
Hayden shot me the finger.
“Why aren’t there any pictures with you?” Her sister squinted at the phone. “And are those… Cocoa Puffs?”
Forget the Council. We’d be lucky if Ellie didn’t report us to animal control.
I headed out to the back patio. Hot-pink bougainvillea and lavender wisteria swirled up corner posts of a wide arbor, creating a brilliant overhead canopy. Black wrought-iron chairs surrounded a table long enough to seat ten, where Jason Aldean and my oldest brother were currently performing an exorcism on all the stray cats in Lindley County. Don’t get me wrong, Brody could sing. Could, being the operative word. But he knew damn well everyone in this family hated country music except him. And in typical Brody fashion, didn’t care.
The second the screen door slammed, Mr. CMA-wannabee saluted me with his beer. “Bring your chainsaw?”
I flipped him off. Yeah, it had been a week since I shaved. Add that to skinny jeans, Doc Martens, and a plaid flannel and you got what Brody called my lumbersexual look. Never mind that Cal had a beard straight out of Fargo and was so skinny he lived in flannel five months out of the year to keep from freezing to death even though we were in the middle of Texas. No one gave Cal shit.
Brody jerked his chin towards the house. “What are they up to?”
“You haven’t seen #EthanCaldwellMustDie trending? Talk to me about the phone.”
Brody glanced towards the house and lowered his voice. “It’s a burner. Activated at a Walmart in South Austin three months ago.”
“You think someone from down there is involved?”
Most of the urban areas had multiple packs. Between the logistics of hundreds of weres trying to move around without being noticed and the inevitable infighting that occurred in any pack, having everyone report to the same headquarters posed too much risk of discovery. Not that most Alphas wouldn’t have given their right arm to hold a territory the size of Dallas or Houston, which was why the cities were plagued by constant turf wars.
The Austin metro area had two packs. One hated us. The other would have sold us out for the fun of it.
Good to have friends.
“Hard to say. With the interstate corridor, it could just as easily be a drifter moving south to where the weather’s warmer. Might have spotted her walking back to her car one night after a show.”
I stared out at the last yellow squash and tomatoes of the fall swaying on their stakes. We’d all taken turns this past year cutting the grass and weeding because hell if Ben was going to come home to find his garden full of crabgrass. “Your guy get anything else?”
“My guy?”
Cal grinned. “That would be River.”
“You gotta be kidding,” I muttered.
“Don’t start with me. We needed someone fast and he’s a freaking savant when it comes to this stuff.” Brody glanced over as the lid to the smoker screeched shut, sparks scattering across the flagstones.
Tossing a BBQ fork onto the table, Dallas picked up his beer.
Brody and Cal exchanged a look, the latter subtly shaking his head. I picked at the label on my Sprite.
“Wasn’t much else. Pinged a cell tower in Austin, so we know he was downtown last night when he called, but that ain’t gonna help us narrow things down.” Brody drummed on the picnic table. “So you and Hayden, huh? That officially a thing now?”
“Working on it.”
“She still planning on playing the gig down in Austin next weekend?” Cal dangled a nacho dripping with tomatoes, cheese and sour cream off the arm of his iron patio chair to where a golden retriever sat motionless as a statue, eyes tracking his every movement. He clucked his tongue and Major snatched it from his hand.
“Quit feeding my dog that crap. Vet says he needs to drop five pounds by Christmas.”
