4. Finn
9 MONTHS LATER
Chapter 4
“Hey, did you see the updates that came out this morning on that murder trial down in Monroe?”
Finn grunted, and didn’t look up from his computer screen. He needed to finalize the security recommendations for a sporting goods store before it was sent for client approval, and he really didn’t want to bullshit about the local news with Silas.
Private Security Solutions, Inc. had been quiet all morning. Their latest hands-on assignment concluded last week—security detail for a politician campaigning for Senator. He’d finally left the Silver Rapids area and another team would be taking over his permanent detail.
Thank God.
The contract paid well, but Finn was happy to see the end of it. He hated the crowds and non-stop travel that came along with jobs like that, even if they were a distraction from the monotony of his life in Silver Rapids.
He preferred the local contracts. Consulting on home and commercial security risk management plans, mostly, and stepping in as additional body security only when needed or if a high profile client came into the area and their whole team was contracted for the job.
Finn had an eye for assessing security threats; sensing the what, when, and where to build effective risk management scenarios, whereas Silas was the best body security guy in the business. A veritable tank, he stood at least a few inches taller than Finn’s 6’1”, and while they were both broad-shouldered and solidly built for two thirty-two year olds, Silas’s thighs looked more like tree trunks than anything human ever did.
Well, human-ish.
Apparently, Silas took his grunt to mean go on, instead of go away. “You know what I’m talking about, right? The wife of that Salt Creek wolf who was killed about a year back? And then they arrested one of the low-ranking Salt Creek shifters for it?”
Finn gave up on his ambitions to have the paperwork done by noon, and looked up at where Silas sat in the desk across from him, feet kicked up.
Yes, Finn did remember that murder. He had never met the woman, but he knew of her. She was the sole heiress to her late father’s development firm and substantial holdings, and it was widely speculated that Jeffrey Dugan, a high-ranking shifter in the Salt Creek pack, had married her for that connection, to benefit himself and Salt Creek’s financial interests.
It was all over the Silver Rapids gossip mill that Jeffrey was good for her murder, not only because ‘it’s always the husband,’ but because her money and voting power for the development firm would absorb into Salt Creek’s assets. But then they had arrested Jackson Bishop, a low-level Salt Creek shifter, and Jeffrey Dugan was still walking around a free man.
Finn knew that Silas kept a close eye on the case because of the Salt Creek connection, but it had also hit the national news cycle and turned into an online sensation overnight.
A beautiful, rich woman married to a slightly less-rich surgeon was killed in her own home under mysterious circumstances, and her husband had a rock-solid alibi.
Toss in how tight-lipped law enforcement was about everything, including the mysterious connection between her and the guy they had finally charged for her murder, and it became the hottest topic in the true crime community for the last year, never-mind that the general public was missing half the paranormally-inclined story.
Finn’s chair creaked in protest as he leaned back, racking his brain for the details he could remember. “There was a witness to the murder, right? But that’s not who’s on trial?”
Silas’s brow creased. “Yeah, that’s the thing. They’ve kept everything so close to the vest with this case, even our contacts in Monroe PD have been tight-lipped about it. They didn’t even release the identity of the witness when they arrested and charged Bishop.”
Finn didn’t have a ton of knowledge on criminal law or the way the trial system worked, but he had been adjacent to a few cases where a client of the security firm was involved. “They didn’t make the witness testify during the preliminary hearing? How?”
Silas shook his head. “There was no preliminary hearing. They indicted Bishop with a grand jury and sealed the proceedings. The witness didn’t even have to testify, they had a law enforcement officer read the witness statement.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “There must be more that the witness saw, then. More than just identifying Bishop as the murderer. Why else would the police protect their identity like that? Do they suspect the husband was involved at all?”
Silas shrugged a shoulder. “No one will tell me for sure, but reading between the lines, they must. There are enough shifters in Monroe PD for them to know of the Salt Creek connection between Bishop and Dugan, even if they have to go about proving it in some other paranormal-free way. But I’m sure the bastards from Salt Creek that are on the force are doing everything they can to bury the connection. My bet is that the witness is the key.”
He leaned forward, dropping his feet from the desk and flipping his phone around, and indicated to an article he had pulled up. “Which brings me back to what just happened this morning.”
Finn raised his eyebrows at Silas again, and glanced down. His breath caught, heart stopping. He snatched the phone out of Silas’s hand, everything else falling away at the name he saw in the article byline—the face that was staring back at him from just underneath.
Eye witness in gripping Monroe murder trial uncovered: Jaime Lamont saw everything!
Finn tried to read the rest of the article, but his eyes kept circling back to the name. The picture. Jaime’s goddamn picture—beautiful freckled cheeks and pink smile and mossy green eyes on full display.
It had been his profile picture before the account went dark.
One year ago, Jaime stood Finn up in his favorite restaurant, stomping all over the fragile hope that had bloomed in his chest at the possibility of something real between them. One year ago, Finn had sent several embarrassingly frantic messages asking Jaime if he was ok, if he was hurt, or stuck on the side of the road somewhere.
It turned out that Jaime just hadn’t been interested in him.
Finn had received confirmation of that the next day, when Jaime sent him a single short, pointed text replying to the several from the night before.
Don’t contact me again.
It had hit him like a punch to the gut, making it difficult to take a full breath. No explanations or apologies, no hint as to how they could go from late night video calls and flirty texts and plans to… nothing.
One fucking year ago. Right around the time of the murder.
Oh God.
Finn tried to focus on the article, and not the yawning pit of guilt that threatened to swallow him. He leaned onto his elbows, head in his hands, and read:
Sources say Lamont, known in public filings only as ‘JL’, is the prosecution’s key witness set to testify in the upcoming trial of Jackson Bishop, who has been charged for the murder of Vera Novikova-Dugan, heiress of the Novikov Corporation and wife of Jeffrey Dugan. Until now, the prosecution has kept Lamont’s identity secret, our sources say, “…to protect his safety and the integrity of the case.” Novikova-Dugan was found murdered in her home on April 9th of last year, after a previously-unidentified witness (Lamont) called emergency services…
All thought of risk management plans forgotten, he sat in stunned silence for a few minutes, passing back Silas’s phone without really hearing what he was saying.
April 9th. The day they were meant to have their first date. Jaime had texted that he was running into Monroe to drop something off for work before heading out to Silver Rapids, and then he went silent.
While Finn had sat in that booth, hot with embarrassment and anger and so hurt, his wolf whining and pacing in his mind, restless like it had never been before, Jaime had witnessed a brutal murder.
Jaime had been in danger.
What if he didn’t just see it? What if he was also hurt?
Fuck. Fuck. Growling, he pulled the article back up on his own phone and scanned every word, but they only ever referred to him as a “witness.” He wasn’t identified as a victim.
Still… Jaime had, at minimum, witnessed and would testify to the brutal murder of a woman allegedly committed by a Salt Creek shifter, landing him right in the crosshairs of one of the most violent packs in the state. In the country, even.
Certainly that was why his identity had been kept a secret for so long. The other paranormals in Monroe PD would know the track record of who Jaime was about to testify against and tried their best to protect him, maybe hoping the Salt Creek shifters on the force wouldn’t be able to make a move without outing their involvement when only a select number of people knew who Jaime was.
But now, the world knew his name. He had no protection at all.
Fuck.
He wasn’t safe. Not from the general public, and not from the bigger players in all of this. Ones he probably knew nothing about.
Finn needed to find him. To tell him—something. Somehow, he needed to help Jaime without revealing too much about himself. He just needed to find him first, and then?—
“Finn. Finn!” Silas was waving his hand in front of Finn’s face, trying to catch his attention. “Are you alright? You zoned out there for a bit.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, just tired.” He gave a half smile, one he knew Silas saw right through, but thankfully he didn’t push.
Resting his elbows on his desk, Finn leaned his head back into his hands and sighed. He couldn’t just track the man down and barge into his life, uninvited. In fact, Jaime had specifically told him to leave him alone. And yes, even if Finn assumed the circumstances around witnessing a horrific murder were the instigating factors of Jaime dropping all contact with him, it had still been his choice to do so, and he hadn’t reached out since. He didn’t want Finn back in his life.
He’s not safe. Find him.
Go.
Go.
His wolf clearly wasn’t on the same page. And the truth was, Jaime wasn’t safe, with his name and face splashed all over the internet as every national news outlet covered the newest breaking story in Vera Novikova-Dugan’s murder trial. Especially if Finn and Silas’s suspicions regarding Monroe PD’s reasons for hiding his identity were correct, and Jaime would be able to testify to more than just Bishop’s identity, possibly having information on a connection between Bishop and Salt Creek.
The Salt Creek bastards in the police department were probably the ones responsible for the leak to begin with. What better way to cover up their interest in a key witness linking Bishop with Jeffrey Dugan, than to splash his face all over the news for the world to see?
Finn shook his head. He was making some dangerous assumptions. He couldn’t go publicly accusing the Salt Creek pack of anything without strong, non-paranormal friendly evidence to support the connection between Bishop and Dugan.
What the hell am I thinking?
A year of silence from Jaime, a year of hurt feelings and anger at himself for daring to hope, followed by resignation and the slow settle back into moving through the motions of his life, and not even ten minutes after hearing Jaime’s name again, Finn was already planning how he could protect him from the wolves at his door.
Literally.
Fuck, that was another thing to consider. Had Jaime actually seen Bishop shifted? Did he know that he was neck deep in shit with one of the most violent and dangerous wolf shifter packs in the country? Did he know about wolf shifters at all?
Finn needed to slow down, and take a deep breath. He didn’t know what Jaime knew. He didn’t know who leaked Jaime’s identity to the media, and he didn’t know why.
All he knew was that Jaime was vulnerable. Media trucks would be swarming his home within hours, if they weren’t already there, like vultures flocking to a fresh kill until something newer and juicier came along.
The thought of Jaime unprotected, at the whim of the media and every other intrusive weirdo out there had another involuntary growl rumbling from his chest.
If I sought him out, just to make sure he had even the most basic security protocols in place, would that make me one of those intrusive weirdos, too?
He could do it. It would be easy.
With just a few clicks of his mouse, he would know everything there was to know about Jaime Lamont. He had chosen not to do that a year ago—chosen to respect Jaime’s boundaries. He didn’t want to invade Jaime’s privacy; he wanted Jaime to invite him into his world with open arms, not to burst through the door uninvited.
That’s what the weirdos will be doing in a few hours, you fool. Go!
He’d been in this job long enough to know how people behaved when they thought they had access to a person’s private life. Half of his job was to make sure those people weren’t successful in invading the personal space of their clients. Could he really sit back and do nothing, knowing how much danger Jaime was in?
No, he fucking couldn’t.
Jaime might hate him for it, might call him a creep and want nothing to do with him, but he couldn’t let him fend for himself. Not now that Finn knew he needed help. He’d look Jaime up, take the day off of work claiming he didn’t feel well, and go find him. After that, well.
He’d figure that out in the truck on the way there.
His inner wolf was less agitated now that Finn had made a decision—the right one—his wolf growled, but just as he was about to pull Jaime’s name up in their database, Sheppard’s voice hollered out from his office. He’d been on the phone all morning, and Finn prayed they didn’t have a new client to go deal with. It would make lying about being sick more difficult.
Cameron Sheppard, the owner of Private Security Solutions and Silas and Finn’s boss, started their team eight years ago after they were all discharged from the service together. When Finn and Silas graduated high school, they were contacted by a shifter representative from the military and recruited into an experimental, covert unit that specialized in ‘elimination of threats to national security using shifter assets.’
Whatever vague bullshit that meant.
They were assigned to Sheppard’s unit and joined by only one other shifter on the team—Joe Renner. Sheppard and Renner were three or four years older than Finn and Silas, but after training as a pack, they were soon thick as thieves.
Their shared history and friendship wouldn’t stop him from lying about needing to leave to find Jaime, but he would feel guilty about it.
“Winters! Granger! Come in here.”
Finn and Silas glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, before they stood and made their way over to Sheppard’s door. Finn leaned against the frame while Silas stood just inside, arms crossed and feet planted wide, always ready for assignment.
Finn just hoped this would be quick.
“Sir?” Silas asked.
Sheppard motioned them inside and told them to sit. “We’ve got a referral from Monroe PD. It’s a unique situation, and I want to discuss it with you both before you commit to the contract.”
Finn’s ears perked up at that. Monroe was not that big, surely there couldn’t be more than one unique situation happening today? Shooting each other wary glances, Finn and Silas sat in the chairs across from Sheppard.
“When was the last time you ‘consulted’ us before taking a case?” Silas asked, using his fingers to make air quotes around the word.
Sheppard shot him a flat look. “I assume that you’re aware of the murder trial down in Monroe? The one the Salt Creek pack is so wrapped up in?”
Finn and Silas both tensed and nodded, predatory focus honed on Sheppard’s next words.
“One of the detectives on the case, Logan Sutton, gave me a call this morning.” At Silas and Finn’s raised eyebrows, Sheppard shrugged. “She’s an old friend.”
Right. Cameron Sheppard was a tomb when it came to his personal life.
“She’s not in-the-know about our world, but she does suspect a connection between their guy Bishop and Jeffrey Dugan. She thinks he is somehow involved in his wife’s murder, but she’s run up against some roadblocks in the investigation.”
“What kind of roadblocks?—”
“What does this have to do with the referral?” Silas and Finn asked at the same time.
Finn’s head was spinning. Were they being brought in on the case somehow? Would that mean he would have a chance to see Jaime without having to track him down on his own like a stalker?
Sheppard answered Silas’s question first, tipping his chin in his direction. “The kind of roadblocks that would put us on Salt Creek’s radar if we take this case.”
Silas tensed, and Sheppard gave him an understanding look. “I can’t share any more details unless I know that you both are officially on board. It’s a tense situation, and Sutton wasn’t going to tell me shit unless I took the contract and signed an NDA. You’ll have to sign them too, before we can move forward. But I wanted you to know what you were getting into, before you made that decision.”
So that’s why he’d wanted to consult them first; he didn’t want to force Silas’s involvement with the case in respect of the tension between him and the Salt Creek pack. Really, tension was putting it mildly—they were going to butcher him as a kid before his parents snuck him away in the dead of night.
Finn knew this would be a tough call for his friend. Silas’s parents had sacrificed everything to get him as far off Salt Creek’s radar as they could, and as far as Finn knew, Silas never knew why they wanted him dead to begin with. Finn didn’t want his brother to be put in danger—didn’t want him anywhere near those Salt Creek bastards.
But there was absolutely no way he would pass up the opportunity to be involved in this case. Not if there was a chance to see Jaime. A chance to get him some kind of message to stay safe, even if he couldn’t tell him everything.
“I’m in,” he said to Sheppard, and turned to Silas. “You should stay out of it, though. Sheppard and I can handle this.”
Silas considered for a beat longer. “No, I’m in too. I’ll stay on the periphery as much as possible, but I’m not leaving you two to go into this on your own. If Salt Creek is as far up Monroe PD’s ass as we think they are, you’ll need someone watching your back.”
Finn knew better than to ask if he was sure. Silas would never put his family in danger on a whim, and he was right. They’d need each other. They always had.
He clapped Silas on the shoulder, and turned to Sheppard, who nodded. “Good. Right. Well, sign these NDAs and get ready to head out while I brief you on our new client, Jaime Lamont.”