House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,29

moving the flashlight a few inches with each sweep, like a TV crime scene unit. And just like in a forensic television show, I didn’t hit pay dirt until the end, when a bit of something on the floor caught my eye.

“Catcher,” I called, freezing the beam on the spot. There in the dust and grime was a small sliver of wood.

Now that I knew what I was looking for, I scanned the area . . . and found more of them. Two, then a dozen, then a hundred scattered in a triangle about ten feet across at its base.

“What did you find?” Catcher asked.

I picked one up—no larger than a toothpick, but much more jagged—and extended it in the palm of my hand. “Wood slivers. And I’ll bet they’re aspen.”

“McKetrick?” Catcher asked.

“It could be shrapnel from one of his aspen bullets,” I reluctantly agreed. McKetrick had invented a gun that shot bullets of aspen intended to quickly dispense of vampires by turning them to ash. He’d tried to shoot me with it. Fortunately, the gun had backfired. He’d caught the worst of the resulting explosion of metal and wood shrapnel, and I hadn’t seen him in person since. I also hadn’t assumed we’d seen the last of McKetrick, but nor was I thrilled about the possibility he was making a move again. Unfortunately, this evidence pointed that way.

Catcher knelt on the ground and picked up another sliver. “Oliver and Eve were decapitated. If he had a gun, why didn’t he use it to kill them? Was he trying to scare them first?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was his first stage of attack, his warning weapon. Maybe that’s what got them into the room. If he did this . . .” I murmured, my anger beginning to rise at the possibility McKetrick was involved and that he’d taken the lives of two innocent vampires.

“We don’t know McKetrick killed them,” Catcher said. “Maybe he used the weapon; then someone else finished the job. There’s no direct evidence he’s involved.”

But I had a hunch. “This is exactly the kind of thing McKetrick would do. Taking out vampires attempting to register? Proving that we’re damned even if we try to abide by human rules?”

“You’re absolutely right,” Catcher said. “But that’s not good enough.”

And I knew he was right, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

* * *

We thanked Horace for his help and drove back to my grandfather’s house. Noah, Rose, and Elena were gone. They’d helped Jeff garner what information he could before taking Rose, who was overwhelmed with grief, home again.

Jeff was at the computer when we walked inside. I offered up the wood sliver.

He knew of McKetrick’s penchant for aspen, and he whistled at the sight. “Is that what I think it is?”

“That’s what I need you to find out. Can you get it tested?”

“I’m on it.”

Catcher sat down at his desk and kicked up his feet, then rubbed his hands over his face. Since his day had started with an evidentiary pickup hours and hours ago, he was probably exhausted.

“The property?” he asked. Catcher was evidently too tired to spare a verb.

“As you saw,” Jeff said, “the building is a former warehouse. But I haven’t been able to find anything about who actually owns it.”

I leaned against the opposite desk. “Any other ideas?”

“Not until the labs come back,” Catcher said. “That’ll take a little while, but we’ll let you know.”

I nodded and stood up. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it. I need to update Ethan and Luc. Can you dig into Oliver’s and Eve’s backgrounds a little more? Maybe this isn’t a random attack. Maybe they’ve been somewhere or done something that really pissed someone off and completely explains this.”

I knew that was unlikely, but I needed to believe there was some reason, some logic to what I’d seen.

Jeff nodded. “Safe driving. And let us know if you find anything interesting.”

I was hoping to find anything at all.

* * *

I drove back with the car’s window cracked. I needed the bracing chill to wipe clean the scents of blood and dilapidation.

I parked the car and jogged into the House, then headed immediately to Ethan’s office. The door was open, and he stood in front of the conference table, perusing documents piled there.

He looked up when I entered, a line of worry between his eyes as he looked me over. “Merit?”

I walked inside. “Oliver and Eve are dead.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “How?”

I moved closer