"What?"
"While the coroner's report couldn't confirm whether sexual penetration had occurred during the attack, the rangers themselves believe none of the women were raped. They believe it's only being made to look like they were."
If that were the case, the murderer was damn good at make believe. "Why would anyone want to do that?"
"You might as well ask me why the murderer is targeting these women," Zeke replied dryly. "When we know why, we'll find our killer."
Duncan glanced down at his drink for a moment. "What do you know about a wolf named Betise?"
His father's lip curled. "She's a dance addict and has been well-used over the years. I've never danced with her, but I believe René and Kane both have. And you." Zeke hesitated, dark eyes glinting with sudden amusement. "But then, you did have a reputation to live up to."
He grimaced. There was no use regretting his past, and there was certainly nothing he could do to change it. "She was claiming tonight that we were an item for nearly a year."
Zeke snorted. "Even at your drunkest, you had more sense than that."
"That's what I figured." He took a drink then said, "She was attacked tonight."
"By the murderer?"
"I don't know. She claimed it was a big silver wolf, and the bite marks on her arms certainly attest to the fact it was a big wolf."
"But you don't believe her?"
"I don't disbelieve her, either. She was attacked."
"But?"
"But if it was the murderer, then he's breaking set patterns. It happened in the pavilion not near the gates. She was waiting for another dancer, not leaving the mansion. And there were no signs of bites on her br**sts or neck. She had scratches on her face, and there were bites on her arms, but neither were very deep. I doubt they'll even scar."
Zeke's expression was thoughtful. "It is always possible the murderer has changed his pattern. There are no set rules governing that sort of thing, you know."
"I know. But he's been so careful up to this moment, so why would he risk attacking a wolf who was obviously waiting for someone? It just doesn't ring true."
"Maybe he thought he had no other chance."
"Maybe." He picked up the bottle and half filled his glass. "I asked Martin to take some saliva and skin samples from her. I thought I could use Dave's contacts to get them tested."
"I'll get them tested. It'll be quicker and easier."
Duncan nodded. The sooner they knew whether Betise's attack was linked to the murderer, the better. "What do you think about Levon Grant?"
Zeke snorted. "Why would I even bother thinking about him?"
"Betise told me tonight that he'd been questioning her about the mansion and the dancers. From what she said, it happened just before the first attack."
His father frowned. "Levon's many things, but I believe he understands the necessity of the dance."
"Neva's his daughter."
"Then he surely doesn't know she's here, because if he did, he'd be here dragging her away by the scruff of the neck. He's not that understanding."
Which is exactly what Duncan had thought. Yet the itchy feeling that Neva was up to something still remained. And if she was here at her father's request, she wasn't going to admit it. He could force the information out of her, of course. But to do so would tell her he was on to her, and if she ran, he doubted it would be back to the person behind her presence here.
He downed the rest of his drink and felt the liquid burn all the way down to his gut. It only fueled the fire already burning in his veins. "Even so, I think it's worth digging around for information on Levon. Maybe his turn-the-other-cheek attitude is little more than a front."
"Maybe." Zeke's expression was doubtful. "What are you going to do about Neva?"
"Keep pushing her. I'm sure she's here for a reason, and I'm just as sure she'll run very soon."