Leclair wasn’t going to make them part of the process and let them help figure out what was going on, then they needed to do this themselves. Gage had reluctantly agreed, though he told the Pack to keep it low-key. He didn’t want anything getting back to the chief.
Which was why Diego, Trey, Hale, and Connor were currently sitting in the parking lot of the ME’s office.
“How are we going to play this?” Connor asked as they headed for the entrance to the county’s Southwest Institute of Forensic Sciences—the place where all the magic happened. At least as far as crime-scene techie stuff went. “You know they’re not going to tell us everything they know about the case simply because we ask, right?”
Diego didn’t say anything right away. Bree had talked about being persuasive and poking her nose where it didn’t belong. But she’d been gazing at him with those beautiful, brown eyes at the time, so it was possible he might have missed some important details on how exactly to get what you wanted. Yeah, maybe he and the guys should have come up with a plan on the way over here.
“We’ll be our naturally charming selves and see how far that gets us,” he finally said, realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was probably the dumbest plan in the world.
“That leaves Trey out.” Hale chuckled, giving Trey a good-natured shove. “He might be good at pulling bullets out of werewolves, but he was obviously absent when they were handing out charm.”
Trey snorted but didn’t deny it. He wasn’t a talker, and everyone knew it.
Their SWAT uniforms and badges got them through the security checkpoint and past the main reception desk. After that, they followed the signs to the medical examiner’s. Not pausing to consider whether this was a good idea or not, Diego stopped outside Samantha Mills’s office. He only hoped she didn’t bring up how those guys who’d tried to kill him at the SWAT compound had died. He’d made up some crap about a bullet ricocheting and slicing through the neck of the guy he’d raked his claws across, but no ME worth their degree would buy that.
Taking a deep breath, Diego knocked on the door.
Here goes nothing.
“Come in.”
Samantha Mills was at her desk, white lab coat on, blond hair up in a messy bun, face intense as she wrote something on a notepad. With its light-gray color scheme, the room was sleek and modern like the rest of the building. Shelves with medical journals lined one wall, while another showcased antique medical devices and… Holy crap, was that really a human skull?
Diego was about to clear his throat when she abruptly looked up to regard them with curious blue eyes. Even though he was the one standing directly in front of her, it was Trey who seemed to capture her attention. Her gaze locked on him for a good five seconds. Beside him, Trey’s heart sped up a little.
No surprise there. Trey’d had a thing for the doctor ever since he’d first laid eyes on her.
“Can I help you?” she said, turning her attention to Diego and acting as if Trey wasn’t there at all.
“Chief Leclair sent us over for an update on the delirium case,” he said casually, as if this was something he did all the time.
Dr. Mills lifted a brow, then leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “I really doubt that, since I gave the chief and the delirium task force a status briefing an hour ago. Interestingly enough, none of you were there.”
Crap.
Even though he had no idea what to say to that, Diego opened his mouth, praying something intelligent would come out, but Trey spoke first.
“Chief Leclair has no idea we’re here and would probably be pissed if she knew.”
Okay. Full disclosure. That wasn’t how Diego thought they were going to play this.
“But we didn’t have a choice,” Trey continued. “We’re the ones on the front line with this delirium thing day in and day out, and it’s getting worse. Those men who came to the SWAT compound were there to kill Officer Martinez, and we don’t have a clue why. We have to find a way to stop all of this, but to do that, we need to understand what we’re up against and you’re the only one who can help us.” He stepped closer to her desk. “Please, Dr. Mills.”
Trey’s voice was a low rumble full of anguish.