Chapter Eleven
Bad Habits, Bold Dog-Nappings and Breakthrough Discoveries
Nick
I have so much work. We just solved a robbery case, and the report is due tomorrow.
Then there’s the murder case that’s still up in the air.
The serial killer is still walking free, killing werewolves around town.
I have lost count of the reports I need to fill out.
Even with the delegating thing Meena’s making me do, I’m drowning in work.
Especially now that I’m trying to embrace the life of a dog dad and spend time at home so my baby doesn’t feel abandoned.
Then why am I parked outside Elliot’s clinic, staring at the closed door?
He's been staying late every day this week because, unlike some careless detectives, he does take his work seriously.
Then there’s the whole thing about the text he still hasn’t responded to. While I have no qualms about double texting, I’m worried it’ll annoy Elliot. The guy does not like meaningless chitter chatter.
Like the text you sent was a thought-provoking intellectual piece, my brain helpfully snides. It sounds suspiciously like Elliot.
So what if I panicked a little and sent him the first thing that came to mind?
It was a nice callback to our conversation the other night.
Not to mention, it was a moderately good way to make him slip again.
You know, the entire reason why I was talking to him in the first place?
That is, if he deemed it worthy of picking up his phone and typing out a response in the first place.
He clearly didn’t. Because here I am, sitting in my car three days later with no reply. It was brutal, like everything Elliot does. I was so secure in the idea that the date wasn’t too horrible and that I could ask for another whenever I wanted, that I forgot this was Elliot.
I’m generally a little cocky about my ability to charm anyone.
But Elliot makes me feel like a child with his first crush.
I was completely off my game that day, and the things that might have landed with other people, mostly women, because that’s all the reference point I have, failed miserably with Elliot.
Is it because he’s a guy? Can’t be. I have so many dude friends who love hanging out with me.
I have a gay brother. His boyfriend is gay too, and he has specifically said that I’m pretty charming a couple of times.
Mostly when he was being snide to Matt or complaining about Matt’s grumpiness, but I’ll still count it.
I can impress men, too. It’s just the special Elliot effect that makes me desperate to impress him with all I’ve got, which ultimately turns me into a moron. I’m interesting, funny, and a catch, damnit. And I deserve replies to texts.
My phone buzzes. I snatch it up, almost dropping it in the process. It’s not a text. Just a call from Matt.
And shit, it’s already nine. I’m late picking up Mickey again. That’s three days in a row. At least, today he’s with Cami and Bree, and they’ve been married for a decade and won’t glare at me if they have to hold off on other activities for a few minutes.
On that note, I pick up Matt’s call because he must be calling to apologize, and I have a big heart.
“Hey, little bro,” Matt greets me.
I scowl at the car speaker and start my car. “Not little,” I grumble.
He laughs like he was expecting that. “So, you’re back home?” he asks suspiciously and without context.
“On the way,” I say vaguely.
“Mm-hmm.”
I narrow my eyes at the road. “Okay, so go on with your apology. I’m waiting,” I prompt.
“What apology?”
“You were so rude to Mickey and me yesterday, just because I was a few minutes late. As if life as a single dad isn’t hard enough,” I complain.
Matt sighs. “You were supposed to pick him up at eight thirty, and you didn’t reach here before ten. And you’re definitely not raising him alone,” Matt says completely unapologetically.
My mouth hangs open.
“And we weren’t rude to you. Oliver was tired after taking Mickey for a run, so he wanted to sleep. Just because he didn’t feed you doesn’t mean we were rude. You know Oliver doesn’t run,” Matt stresses.
Well, that’s true. Oliver hated exercising.
I was amazed by how he’s able to stay fit with all the delicious food he makes, and with the lack of running, climbing, or gymming.
But the guy basically eats nothing and chooses to walk everywhere, like a heroine from a Jane Austen novel.
“Tell him the salad he packed for me was delicious as always,” I say because I have manners.
“You’re so spoiled,” Matt grumbles.
He’s not wrong.
“Do I even want to know where you’re right now?” he asks, hesitant.
“No?”
Matt sighs. “Nick. You said you were dating Elliot, so you wouldn’t have to continue your psychopath stalker routine. Now, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”
“Yeah, yeah. My life is too interesting. And yes, that’s why I’m dating him or was dating him. I don’t know where we are at the moment,” I confess.
“Well, I was surprised that he agreed to the first date, so this checks out,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Hey.”
“C’mon, you were surprised too. You were sure he was going to say no,” he insists.
“I mean, yeah, but you don’t have to be mean about it.”
Matt snorts. “If you think that’s mean, you probably shouldn’t be dating Elliot.”
Fair.
“Well, I’m not.” He made sure of it by not replying to the text. The guy is clearly avoiding me. It does set me back a step in my investigation, but I guess I can fit in a few stalking sessions even with my current schedule.
“Ugh, okay, I hate that I’m offering this, but he’s coming over for dinner Saturday. Maybe I can ask him why he’s not interested. I can’t make any promises, though, the guy scares me,” Matt says.
Wait a minute. Elliot is going to Matt’s?
A place I can run into him accidentally?
Huh. It’s nice of Matt to offer to have a full conversation with Elliot, but from experience, I know it’s impossible, borderline dangerous.
You need a professional interrogator for that.
Matt needs saving, and I’ll never shrug off my responsibility.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Matt warns.
“What? I was just thanking the universe for giving me such a wonderful brother. That’s it,” I say.
Matt sighs again. He does that a lot, doesn’t he? “You’re going to do something crazy again, aren’t you?”
“What? Me? No.”
“You’re going to do something crazy,” Matt decides. What a drama queen. “What is it? Wait, no, don’t tell me. With your history, I’m going to want to be able to claim plausible deniability.”
I laugh. “You’re learning,” I say with approval. “See you Saturday, Matt.”
“Wha—”
I hang up before he can argue. He had to know where this was going, and now he wouldn't be in danger of getting his neck wrung for showing interest in Elliot’s life. A win-win for everybody.
***
“We’re not giving him back,” Bree announces as soon as she opens the door.
Then she crouches in front of Mickey and gives him scratches.
“No, we won’t, we absolutely won’t,” she coos at him.
Mickey is so invested in the attention that he doesn’t even acknowledge my presence other than a cursory look that basically says, ‘you really should have bought that fifty-seventh toy I picked out, sucker.’
See, people appreciated more time with Mickey, Matt.
But I still need my giant goofball back.
Despite all my hesitation and worries about the added responsibility, Mickey has proven to be just what my life needed.
My morning runs have become more regular.
I’ve been taking more breaks from work and my side projects.
And I’ve been feeling lighter. It’s been easier to breathe since he came into my life.
All in all, I’ve finally embraced the concept of work-life balance, which had been unequivocally missing from my life.
But first, I’ll need to convince my friends to let us leave this place unharmed. Maybe I can convince them Mickey’s cuddles and smiles are not worth the effort it’ll take to raise him to be a nice and polite dog.
Mickey chooses this time to play dead, a trick I taught him last week, and Bree claps.
Yeah, that’s not going to work. Maybe I’ll tell them how much I spend just on his food. That’ll definitely raise some doubt. But then they’ll realize how much of it is not a necessity. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of judgment yet.
I sidestep them and walk inside the house to find Cami, who’s the only person capable of talking sense into Bree.
You’d think things like ‘you can’t steal someone’s dog’ and ‘you shouldn’t threaten a law enforcement officer’ wouldn’t require a formal lecture from your wife on appropriate behavior.
You’d be wrong. And it’s kind of concerning that I’m well aware of it.
I sniff, and my nose carries me to the kitchen, where I can smell something delicious. I find Camilla ladling something on the stove. She turns and sighs. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry,” she assures.
I smile and look at the food longingly.
She rolls her eyes. “I made extra for you.”
My smile widens.
When we sit down for dinner, Mickey finally relents, pads over, and settles under my chair, fixing me with those puppy-dog eyes. I sneak some bread down to him that he happily finishes off.
“Do you have anything on Nate yet?” Cami asks after a while.
“I wish. We’re mostly focusing on finding a connection between the first victim and him, but there’s still nothing,” I tell her.
She nods. “Izzy is so devastated. I hate seeing her like this. I keep thinking maybe knowing more will get her some closure.”
“We’ll find something soon, Cami. I promise you,” I say, knowing full well I can’t promise shit and that Cami already knows it.
Bree sighs. “This is so horrible. What is happening to this city? As if werewolves dying left and right wasn’t enough, now the humans around them are dying too.”
Wait. That constant nudge in my brain that’s been bugging me for so long suddenly snaps into focus. I could have kissed Bree if she hadn’t been planning to kidnap my dog, and it wouldn’t be objectively gross. “Did Nate know about us?” I ask Cami, hurriedly.
“No, Izzy didn’t tell him yet.” Cami tilts her head, thinking it over. “Yeah, the last time we talked about him, she was confused about it. But she had her doubts about how he would react.”
Makes sense because we're all well aware how badly humans can react to the werewolf thing. Matt’s foster parents are the perfect example of how unpredictable their reactions can be.
I nod.
“He wasn’t… how do I put it nicely?” Cami continues. “He wasn’t the best person.”
“He was an asshole,” Bree corrects.
“He was?”
Cami sighs. “I’ve been convincing Izzy to break it off with him since she introduced us. He was so horrible to her.”
That’s new, because with everything I’ve heard about him until now, you’d think he rescued little kittens from massive trees every week. Maybe I need to question his colleagues again. “Is there a way he could have known?”
Cami shakes her head. “No, I would have known if he did. Why do you think he’d know, though?”
“Because Bree might be right,” I say.
“Of course I am,” Bree preens. “What am I right about?”
“That the connection between the victims can be their proximity to werewolves. Different ones, who don’t hang out in the same circles either. But it’s the only thing that has made sense until now,” I nod.
Cami’s eyebrows go up. “Hmm, I’ll need to have another conversation with Izzy then,” she says.
“I do too. I’ll call Laura and ask her if Tyler was aware of us, too.”
“You hate working with a team that much, huh?” Bree asks.
I frown. “What? Why?” I mean, I don’t love it.
“You just made your LAPD case a solo mission by bringing in the werewolf angle,” she explains.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about the solo thing. He’s gonna have to bring us in on it. He just brought another case for the Bureau,” Cami scoffs.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Fuck, Meena is going to hate me so much.”