Chapter 51
THE PRECINCT IS QUIET THIS time of night. Not much is happening when I stroll the rogue's sedan to a stop in the parking lot opposite the Jasper Falls Police Service station.
It's after one in the morning. Sleep tugs at the corners of my eyes and it's a fight to stay awake but until this mess is sorted, the desire to crawl back into Jace's bed and hold him close will have to sit on the back burner.
A police cruiser pulls into the lot a few spots away. The engine shuts off and two officers in plain clothes step out. As they pass the sedan, I rub my eyes, fighting the sleep away. Leaning into the driver's seat, I watch the plain clothes officers cross the street and enter the precinct.
A yawn bursts free, but I shake it off and pop the trunk open. Getting out of the car, I round to the back and with a glance at the lot, the street, and the precinct building, I push the trunk up, meeting the rogue's hateful glare.
His hands are restrained with ties fashioned from his sweater that I stripped off his back and made quick work of, slashing through with my claws.
Another strip of material – also from his sweater – fashioned into a gag is tied around his mouth to muffle any noise he might make in an attempt to draw attention.
He could free himself easily since there is no wolfsbane in his system but since he's still bound, he most likely came to moments before I popped the trunk.
Easier for me too that I don't have to lug him into the station.
"Let's make this quick, shall we?"
The rogue mutters something. Angry and irate, the insults are muffled by the cloth gag in his mouth. He struggles, thrashing as I yank him out of the trunk by the front of his shirt. He staggers, continuing his onslaught of insults.
"I'd be careful. Don't want you dying of asphyxiation because your dumb ass swallowed a piece of your own sweater."
The rogue glares but goes quiet. It's when I'm momentarily distracted, shutting the trunk, that he makes a run for it, dashing across the parking lot in the opposite direction. I take off after him, grabbing the back of his shirt before he can run into oncoming traffic.
The rogue slams into me. He tilts his head, trying to smash my nose with the back of his head. I avoid the hit and slap the side of his face.
"Try that again, I'll push you into the street myself and enjoy every second of watching you get crushed."
Breathing hard from the initial struggle, the rogue has no choice but to comply. It's a lose-lose situation for him: precinct or death by main road. It's best he take the lesser evil.
I march him back across the parking lot, across the street, and into the precinct. The officer on duty at the front desk is a Marcana Were who looks from his computer, eyebrow raised in question, lingering on the bound and gagged rogue beside me.
"Citizen arrest," I announce, grinning sheepishly. "Call the mayor."
"Not your dad?" the officer replies, a touch of amusement in his words.
"Dad's got a date tonight. Besides, Mayor Hayes already knows about this."
With a shake of his head, the officer points behind him to the entrance into the main office area. "All right. Go find the first officer on duty and file your report. I'll call Mayor Hayes."
"Thanks."
Shoving the rogue forward, I ignore the glare he gives as we walk around the side of the reception desk and slip into the main office where there are multiple desks. Most are vacant of occupants, and my guess is that most officers on duty are out on patrol or it is a slow night.
A phone rings at an unoccupied desk and an officer in plain clothes gets up to answer it.
At another table littered with paperwork, a teen sits in a chair with an angry-looking father towering behind him, arms crossed. His mother sits beside him in another chair, worry etched on her face as she speaks with the officer taking their report. The teen looks straight-up annoyed.
I recognize him. Seen him around school before in the year below mine.
Across the room, there's another officer on duty. Also in plain clothes, his badge hanging around his neck by a lanyard. The officer doesn't take notice of us right away, sifting through paperwork on his desk while talking on his personal cell.
Officer Rourke Peters. I know him since his daughter is in a few of my classes and because he works closely with Beta Chad.
"Let's go," I say, shoving the rogue's shoulder.
He shuffles forward in a silent gait, drawing curious glances from the family and the officer a few tables over.
No doubt, they're curious about his condition and I know embarrassment is eating the rogue alive from the reddening of his ears and face, and the fact that he refuses to look up or make eye contact with Officer Peters who has finally taken notice.
"Hey, Lex, I'll see you when I get home. Look after your brother," Officer Peters says into his cell and hangs up the call. He puts the phone down, gaze following the rogue I push into the empty chair. Then he turns back to me. "What the hell, kid."
I smile. "I've asked Cal to call Mayor Hayes. We can either wait until he gets here or you can take my report while we do so."
Officer Peters sighs quietly. "Everyone associated with that guy concerns me." He motions to the last available chair in front of his desk. "All right. Let's talk."
NEARLY HALF AN HOUR LATER, the man we're waiting for strolls in through the front doors. I hear him greet Cal and exchange a few words about the night's pace, then his footsteps follow as he enters the main office.
"Rourke," Beta Chad greets, inclining his head. His gaze flicks to me and I give him a guilty smile, actually feeling guilty about dragging him out of his house because he looks like absolute shit.
Though his hair is neatly styled and he's dressed like one of the plain clothes officers in jeans, a jersey, and a black jacket thrown over it, his face says he'd rather be at home, most likely sleeping by the dark circles beneath his eyes. He carries a to-go cup of coffee and it's strong.
Crap. I feel so bad.
"I thought we agreed to call for backup," he says to me, taking a sip of his coffee as he steals a chair from the desk over and drags it so that he's sitting between Officer Peters and me.
"It could've been worse post Tuesday. Besides, I handled it and the only damage he sustained is a bruise and maybe a mild concussion." I jab a thumb at the disgruntled rogue whose name I've learned is Kevin Sommers.
"I suppose," Beta Chad replies. "Still, it's unpleasant to be awakened about an arrest mere seconds after finally falling asleep."
"At least I called."
He tilts the to-go cup in acknowledgement of that fact, shifting his attention to the rogue beside me. Sommers' hands are still bound, this time with handcuffs. The cloth gag and ties were tossed when Officer Peters made the switch before I started giving the report.
Kevin Sommers squirms beneath Beta Chad's condemning stare, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
Rogues – despite enjoying the thrill of staying on the bad side of pack Weres – fear Marcana's heads. All to varying degrees but I think the one they fear most is Chad Hayes. He's a Councilman of Jasper Falls and the town's mayor.
What makes him a danger to these rogues isn't that he's changed or bent laws before – usually to the advantage of serving actual, swift justice – but that he has so much influence throughout Schrattner's County that he could virtually disappear or ruin anyone he wants and get away unscathed.
He's shown time and again that he could – if he wants – and it's that knowledge that makes him so terrifying to criminal rogues.
Chad Hayes is the law of Jasper Falls.
"Let's hear it," he says. "What happened?"
I go through the process once more of relaying the events of the night, starting with the moment I first noticed the sedan parked across the street, one house down from the Conner's.
I tell him about the car still being parked in that spot the second time I walked down the driveway, and what followed after I gave into the sneaking suspicion that something was amiss.
By the time I'm done, Beta Chad knows all that's happened: Sommers in the car when I went out to my SUV after midnight, the decision to exit the Conner's house through the back door and double back nearly four houses down.
I tell him about watching Sommers leave the sedan and peek inside the SUV, and then try the front door of the house, and the windows which is where I confronted him.
"There's more, though," I say. "We talked a little before I knocked him out."
Beta Chad remains silent. His gaze slides back to the rogue. Kevin squirms.
"What'd you talk about?" His tone is so casual it's almost frightening. He's laid back about it too as he takes another sip of his coffee.
"He told me that even if I kill him or send him to the hospital, his boss will just send more people." At the mention of the hospital, Beta Chad meets my gaze. We're thinking the same: It's all linked and most likely, leading right back to Jessop Atkinson.
If only we could establish a solid line of evidence. But he's been sneaky. Smart.
None of the rogues he sends out to target the Conners have actually met him.
They don't know what he looks like.
What they know, is that the person to whom they report, calls him J.
This I know for certain based on what Christopher Weis has said, which coincides with what Officer Peters, and I managed to get out of Sommers.
"And he said something else which I find interesting. I think you'll love this."
Beta Chad is quiet, his gaze expectant.
"He said that his boss, or rather his boss's boss, wants the end of my bloodline."
Beta Chad exhales heavily. He shakes the to-go cup, inside which the remaining coffee swishes around. He looks at me and nods. "It's probably best you didn't call your dad."
That's what I'm thinking. There's no doubt that had Dad heard what Sommers said to me, he might've forgotten that he's also on the Council.