"And that's for the best, I assure you," I said. "There can't ever be a you and me, Tony. Not ever."
"Lissa, I'm not going to trace your phones. Not officially. But that doesn't mean I might not call you now and then."
"Then try not to call when my fiancé is around. That could get me pounded."
"Now I'm worried about you."
"Don't be. I'm a lot tougher than I look. And tell those schmucks who were with you tonight to stop wearing sunglasses inside a bookstore, for cripe's sake. That's not a giveaway or anything."
"More than likely they were blinded by the printed word. I don't think they read at all."
"Go out and hire somebody who reads, then. Are you the boss or not?"
"Lissa, you should know those aren't the questions we ask in interviews."
"Yeah? I can hear it now. When's the last time you maimed somebody? Yesterday? Good. How about breaking bones? What's the best way to crack a skull or bust a kneecap? The one who revealed his shoulder holster tonight? That was just showing off."
Tony laughed. "I haven't asked those questions yet but I'll consider it next time."
"See that you do. Otherwise you may get an inferior knee-cap buster."
"You still like me, admit it," Tony teased.
"Tony, part of me will always like you. I'll always have fond memories of those three dates. You made me laugh when I desperately needed to laugh. That's why I sent Winkler to you in the first place. I thought you'd be the one to take his software and treat him fairly over it. I thought you were a good guy, Tony. Don't make me revise that opinion."
"Lissa, I will work hard to keep that good opinion you have of me. I won't have your phones traced for the department. But like I said, that won't prevent me from trying to call you from time to time. You could call me, too, baby. And not just when you need help."
"Tony, no offense, but I hope I don't need your help again. Ever."
"Now, is that any way to be?"
"You weren't the one who had the gun in your face when the police came to make arrests."
"Someday, you're going to have to tell me how you got out of that."
"Fat chance. Go to bed, Tony. If you're lucky, you might still get a couple hours sleep."
"What if I have cracker crumbs in my bed?"
"Then you deserve to wake up with salty crumbs stuck to your skin," I huffed. "Didn't anybody teach you not to do that?"
"No, I was raised by wolves," he said. That hit me like a slap in the face. Why hadn't I thought of that before? Why? Werewolves had human mates at times and they produced human children. That didn't keep those human children from knowing what their werewolf parent was.
"You could have saved me a lot of worry if you'd mentioned that early on," I muttered.
"See, Lissa, we're not so far-fetched," he said. "That's how I knew about all those things. That's how I convinced the FBI to create an entire department for those races. We need them, Lissa. They can do things the other guys can't."
"That still doesn't mean we could have anything close to a relationship. I wish I could explain all this to you, Tony, but I can't. Suffice it to say I have a fiancé, and he's not going to let me go. That's that. Good night, Tony."
"Lissa, I really won't have your phone traced."
"I'll think about keeping it, then."
"Good," he sighed. "Should I say pleasant dreams?"
"You'd be wasting your breath," I said and hung up.
Chapter 11
The note I left for Winkler said not to bother with a new phone. He got me one anyway. "How was the sojourn in the pokey?" I asked, ruffling his hair a little after I woke. I handed over the second key to the cooler of blood as I sipped my dinner. I was heading into the bathroom to clean up when Winkler answered.
"It smelled awful," he said. "Too bad Kelvin's dead; I'd kill him all over again." That was all the local news was talking about—how the police had a standoff with the shooter and killed him.
"Kevin. Kevin Miller," I stuck my head out the bathroom door to remind him. "And this isn't over yet, I don't think." I wanted to call Merrill—ask him who Saxom was and why his children were going to be a problem. Merrill was as unhappy with that information as I'd ever known him to be. "Did Weldon get a copy of the names that Tony got from the kid?"
"We got it but it's pretty much the same list that Davis and Glen put together." That statement had me marching right back out of the bathroom.
"William Wayne Winkler, do you mean to sit there and tell me you guys were already suspecting this idiot and you didn't think to mention it to me?" I was shaking my toothbrush at him.
"We didn't know what he was doing," Winkler tried to pull me into his arms. He was sitting on the end of his bed, a sad puppy look on his face. "We knew his credentials were bogus but we were waiting to see what the reason was. Besides, you knew he was collecting fingerprints and you didn't tell us."
"If you'd let me know to begin with I would have, rather than waiting to see what the f**k his problem was." I tossed a hand in the air and headed back toward the bathroom.
"Lissa, baby, don't be upset." Winkler was in the bathroom right behind me and he managed to get his arms around me and kiss me on the shoulder before I could get away.
"Winkler, go put two socks on that match," I pointed to his feet. The white tile in the bathroom floor played up the one navy blue sock and one black sock.
"Well, will you look at that," Winkler grinned at me.
"Out," I pointed toward the door. "I have to clean up." He went reluctantly.
The confirmation later was uneventful. Weldon interviewed most of the Wichita Pack and all of them expressed dissatisfaction with Bart Orford; he'd had a heavy hand and didn't like it if anyone expressed an opinion that disagreed with his. He'd killed two Seconds who challenged him because they didn't like his beliefs. The new Packmaster seemed competent and he was nice on top of that. He had a human wife who really was excited to meet me. "I just never met somebody like you before," she gushed. "Don't worry; I know how to keep a secret."
I desperately hoped she could keep a secret, but I didn't tell her that. We just talked about this or that. She was the one who let it slip that werewolves were possessive in bed. Like I wanted to hear that. "They just wrap you up and if you move, they nip a little," she giggled. As information goes, that was something I could have done without.