Chapter 14
“The wolves prey upon the lambs in the darkness of the night, but the blood stains remain upon the stones in the valley until the dawn comes, and the sun reveals the crime to all.” ~Kahlil Gibran
Gwen
Honey-chil’, you are in trouble. Sometimes, I wish shoulder Beyoncé would shut the fuck up.
The hurt on Axel’s face would make one think I cheated on him. “You’re my wife, Gwen. My friggin’ wife.”
The irony of the situation would be laughable if not for the dire circumstances. Taking a deep, calming breath, I pace in front of his knees and explain my point of view. “Babe, the link disappeared after I viewed it. For all I know, the images could’ve been generated by AI. It wasn’t that important. You were in jail, and I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
Jaw muscles pulsing, he shakes his head. “First you didn’t trust me with Britt and now this.”
I don’t understand why he’s so pissed off. “I was trying to protect you.”
The bitter laugh he spits out holds no mirth. “I’ve never talked about my parents. Want to know why?”
“Okaaay…” Wondering where the conversation is headed, I pull out a chair and sit. “Shoot.”
His frown deepens as he stares into space. “Because they were liars. They lied from the moment the sun rose until it set. They lied about the weather, the time of day, and whether the heater in the car worked. My dad was the king of fibs, and my mother’s job was to reinforce his bullshit.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. One of the reasons I was so attracted to you is because I thought you understood. The way your ex gaslit you, I was so sure-”
“Stop right there!” My shout startles me. I never raise my voice, especially to people I care about.
In my defense, any talk of Farid-the-Terrible makes me ballistic. “After your release, you came home, and we made love. Then, the infamous Brittany showed up. When did I have time to discuss the damn video?”
Girrlll, you should’ve told him.
Of course, my guilty conscience sides with Axel. I know I’ve done wrong, but it’s the principle of the thing. He doesn’t always get to be the boss. I’m intelligent and capable. I think sometimes heshouldlisten to me.
Using a more conciliatory approach, I sit in his lap and kiss him. “If you’re finished being angry, let’s talk about how we can use the intel. Perhaps we can scare Brittany into confessing the truth.”
“She committed murder. No way will she change course now.” Sounding more petulant than mad, my wolfman meets my gaze.
Dropping a breadcrumb, I pray he buys into my project plan. “We have the advantage. We know it’s me Ledbetter wants. What if I agree to his demands so you can capture him? You’ll have the evidence to clear your name and one of the FBI’s most wanted finally put away.”
“Are you out of your damn mind?” He stands which causes me to slide off his lap onto the floor.
Since I have three doctorates, I can’t help being offended as I stand and brush off. “No, I am not. I will explain every step we must take to make this work.”
He rolls his eyes. “You may be a genius, but when it comes to things like this, you’re, you’re… na?ve.”
Certain he was going to say something way worse, my ears ring, and my fists clench at my side. “Even though your DNA was found inside Joanne, I have not doubted you for one second. I’m nowhere near as inexperienced as you would like to believe. Any other wife would’ve filed for divorce.”
A sudden insight makes my head spin. “Oh. My. God. Is it possible Brittany saved your sperm, froze it, and turkey-basted it into Joanne?”
His eyes widen, and it takes a moment for his gaping jaw to close. “If so, she’s been planning my demise for years… apparently before we stopped seeing each other.”
Racing into the bedroom, I find my tablet and plop on the couch. “So, we agree. We need a new project plan.”
“What, no.” Ignoring his scowl, I open my favorite application and type.
“Okay. Let’s discuss success criteria. Umm… We want all charges dropped against you and Brittany arrested. Does that work?”
Wulf tilts the box of joe over his mug and empties the last drop. “Sure, whatever.”
“Lose the negativity, babe.” While he grunts, I add some action items I don’t want him to know about.
Sighing, he walks to the couch, lowers himself, and lifts his feet onto the ottoman. “Gwen, catching a murderer is nothing like project management.”
“Yes, it is. If you write down your goals and all the steps to achieve them, studies show you cannot fail.”
“Fucking horse shit.” He mutters this under his breath, but I hear it.
“Let’s agree to disagree.” Refusing to let him discourage me, I open a Gant chart and work our timeline. “We know law enforcement will continue their investigation. What evidence will convince them Brittany framed you?”
Wulf purses his lips. “If we could demonstrate how she planted my swimmers, it would go a long way toward setting me free.”
My fingers tap the keyboard. “Well, it’s not like she could stick your sperm in the freezer. Clinics use nitroglycerin. We could place some calls and-”
“Viability wouldn’t matter. Knowing Britt, she researched the science thoroughly.”
To make sure I understand, I rephrase and repeat. “What I’m hearing is, you think it may be next to impossible to prove Brittany stuck your expired manblast inside Joanne. So, without the video, there is little evidence Babcock killed her, especially if your lying ex says she witnessed you do it.”
“Yeah. Even with more forensics, any juror would find the turkey baster explanation far-fetched.” His defeatist attitude alarms me.
So, despite the ungodly hour, I ring Callie. “Can you put Lochlan on?”
“I wondered when you two would call.” At my boss’ agitated tone, I worry something has happened to Abbie and guilt overwhelms me.
What kind of mother leaves her five-year-old for a weeklong honeymoon? “How’s my daughter doing?”
My friend reads my mind. “She’s having a grand ol’ time playing with my kids. She’s better off here than…”
“Watching her stepdad get arrested. I hear you. Tell her I love her and will Facetime when she wakes up.” Determined to resolve this matter quickly, I wait while she calls her husband to the phone.
“Oi? Whassup?” As always, hearing his Australian accent puts me in a brighter mood.
Before I can answer, Axel grabs my cell and presses the speaker button. “Hey, pal, I assume Andy Quinn spoke to you?”
“Yeah, mate. No worries. Slate put a team roight on it. Patten Securities won’t let you down. I must say though, your ex is a nasty piece of work.”
My hubby holds my hand and gives me a reassuring wink. “There’s more. Danbury sent my wife a clip of Brittany and Joanne arguing before I arrived. He says he’ll swap it for Gwen.”
“Not happening.” Lucky snaps back and my alpha responds in kind.
“Agreed.”
When the two discuss a completely different approach from mine, I snort out my nose.
Nuh-uh. They are not leaving me out.
Beyoncé slaps me a high-five because she knows my idea is far superior. With it, we can trap the damn informant, download the video, and arrest Ledbetter. Once the dust settles, I am sure my wolfy will forgive me.
While the men talk over their next steps, I put mine on paper. After he hangs up, he sighs and holsters his weapon.
“Grab Bear. I don’t care what your plan says, we’re heading back to the hotel.”