It would be ruled an accidental death, just as the others had been. Jonas Wyatt and the Bureau of Breed Affairs were amazingly efficient, at all times.
It would make the story she was working on more difficult. It was hard to report someone had been murdered by a Breed when a human coroner ruled the death accidental. The pictures she held were next to worthless, but not a total loss.
What the hell was going on? She couldn’t believe the Bureau would turn a killer loose, but she knew Wyatt and his enforcers. If there was a rogue Breed out there threatening the stability of the Breed community, then they would have neutralized that threat as quickly as possible. Which meant they didn’t know any more than she did.
More than likely, they were being led on the same wild-goose chase she was being led on, and refused to admit to it.
“Ms. Hawkins, you do like to live dangerously.”
Cassa came to a hard stop as Dog stepped just far enough from the other side of a tree to allow her to recognize him.
The overcast day lent a brooding, harsh quality to his expression. It cast shadows that did nothing to soften his features or to help him appear less threatening. Though Cassa doubted anything could make the Coyote Breed appear less threatening. And considering the fact that Cabal was likely not far behind her, the situation had turned into one with the potential to become rather dangerous. At least for Dog.
“And you say I like to live dangerously.” She gave a short, sarcastic little laugh. “You must be suicidal.”
“That’s the general opinion.” His lips quirked into a rueful, if not mocking, smile, and his strong white teeth gripped an ever present cigar. “But you’re definitely showing signs of following in my footsteps.”
She gave a false shiver of dread. “Bite your tongue, Coyote. I can’t think of anyone who would want to do anything so foolhardy.”
For a second, something dark and bitter flashed in his gaze, but then it cleared and the familiar icy disdain replaced it.
“Neither can I actually,” he drawled. “Which leads me to wonder exactly why you’re still in Glen Ferris. You should be in Missouri covering H. R. Alonzo’s accidental death.” His lips tilted in a cruel, cold smile. “Poor bastard burned himself to a crisp.”
“So I heard.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as she watched him warily.
“Coroner ruled an accidental death. Did you know his will states a wish to be cremated? Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” His canines flashed warningly.
Alonzo didn’t die in a damned house fire and he knew it. Dog had been in those mountains the night before, most likely for the same reason she had been there. To find proof that the Bureau was hiding a rogue Breed. Unlike Dog though, it wasn’t the killings she wanted to reveal, it was the reason behind them. She wanted a story that wouldn’t destroy the Breeds, while she was certain Dog was more inclined to see the worst possible scenario revealed. He was rumored to be part of whatever was left of the Genetics Council. He was the muscle—no one had quite figured out for certain who held his chain.
“Why are you bothering me today, Dog?” She crossed her arms over her br**sts and faced him suspiciously. “I think we’re both aware Cabal isn’t too far away.”
“Yeah, those Felines have a rather good habit of keeping track of their mates,” he commented with a slow nod of his black-streaked gray head.
The breeze whispered through the dark and light strands of hair as he turned his head against it and stared out at the river once again for long seconds.
The coarse strands rippled over his shoulders and down his neck. Long hair for a Breed, she thought. She much preferred Cabal’s golden blond and black hair. It was soft to the touch; she remembered that suddenly. Feeling his hair against her face as he leaned into her so long ago.
I own you.
“I hope the memory is a pleasant one.”
She was jerked out of her reverie by Dog’s mocking voice. She stared back at him suspiciously, watching the slow, cold grin that shaped his lips.
“You’re picking into things here that you need to stay out of, girl,” he finally drawled warningly, those cloudy gray eyes flashing dangerously. “You need to get the hell out of Dodge, as they say.”
“And you need to get the hell out of my business,” she stated tightly.
His lips tightened around the cigar he still held between his teeth, before he reached up and lifted it free with two fingers.
“Girl, you need to heed a warning now and then,” he snapped back at her. “Let me help you out here. You and your mate. Drag his ass to the nearest bed, get yourself nice and warm and sit this one out. Let it the f**k go.”
“And why would I do that?” She narrowed her eyes back at him.
“Because you don’t want the answers you’re going to find here. And trust me, Jonas doesn’t want you to find them. That could make for a very sticky situation for both you and Cabal.”
“And you care for what reason?”
He stared back at her speculatively before answering. “I’m not really certain. Maybe I’ve found a conscience.”