Chapter Twenty-One

I walked for ages until I finally saw a light in the distance. It wasn't, as I'd hoped, the road so I could've called Kit or someone else to get me. Instead, it was the RV park that held the werewolf enclave. I glanced at the moon, grateful it wasn't full, and walked nervously toward the area.

I'd never actually been inside the enclave. Not that witches weren't allowed, but the wolves had always been a bit funny about their territory. Big Jo told me once that they patrolled the woods—either to hunt or keep out trespassers. It might've been smarter to turn around and head back into the swamp, but I wasn't on the worst footing with the werewolves. Someone might take pity on me and point me toward the road, at least. I walked with my hands up, knowing it was only a matter of time before one of the sharp-nosed creatures scented me.

"Who goes there?"

I froze mid-step. "It's Jo Maelstrom. Uh. The younger. Little Jo. From Witch's Cove."

The voice dripped with condescension. "Seriously? What are you doing here?"

I turned, recognizing the voice now, and gave Carver Briggs a nervous smile as he appeared from the woods, his teeth bared in a wolfish sort of way. I would've rather run into any other wolf, but at least he knew who I was.

"Hi, Carver. Sorry to intrude on your…" Natasha appeared beside him, and it was clear the two had been busy patrolling the perimeter, based on the way her top was haphazardly buttoned. "Evening. I got lost. Just looking for a way back to the road."

"How did you get lost here?" Carver asked, narrowing his gaze as his nostrils flared. "You stink. Have you been walking in the swamp or something?"

"You could say that," I said, hoping I might get out of this conversation without exposing the entirety of my embarrassment.

"Where's your broom?" Natasha asked, a superior smile sliding onto her face. "Oh, that's right. You probably can't ride one, can you?"

Carver seemed emboldened by his girlfriend's cattiness and let out a chuckle. "Or did you try to ride one, and it knocked you off?"

That, at least, was a less embarrassing story than the truth. "Sure."

They shared a look of unadulterated glee.

"Anyway, I need a ride back to the Cove, if someone would be willing to help." Not you two, obviously. "Or you can point me in the right direction, and I'll walk—"

"Nonsense."

Big Dog's voice boomed over the three of us, and it gave me unadulterated glee when Carver wilted like a snow cone in July. The alpha had probably scented me, as the other two had, and now he stood on the front steps of his RV. It was, unsurprisingly, the largest and most expensive of the bunch. There also seemed to be shadows moving around inside, and I didn't want to think about what I'd interrupted him doing.

"Are you all right, Jo? You look like you've seen a ghost," Big Dog said, coming to stand beside me. He sniffed the air near my head. "And you smell like a washed-up fish. Where did you come from?"

There was the mildest hint of accusation in his voice, so I figured I'd better come clean with him or else I might find myself chewed out—literally.

"The swamp," I said.

He quirked a brow. "What were you doing there?"

I let out a sigh, wishing Carver and his too-pretty girlfriend would return to the woods to keep making out or whatever they were doing instead of staring at me.

"I cast a spell," I ground out slowly. "It went wrong."

Natasha snorted in laughter, as did Carver, but they turned their gazes to the ground when Big Dog growled.

"Dear Little Jo," Big Dog said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you should slow down on the magic, eh? You've always had trouble with it. No use trying to fill your grandmother's shoes until you're ready."

"Yeah." I wanted to die at the patronizing tone. "I guess."

His smile was nothing but pity. "Indeed. Carver," he all but barked at his son. "Get your car, pup."

Carver jumped into action and ran into the dark, leaving Natasha, Big Dog, and me waiting awkwardly. Well, Natasha and I were standing around awkwardly, Big Dog didn't seem to have an awkward bone in his body.

"Actually, could I have a word alone with you, Big Dog?" I asked, my voice small compared to his booming one.

"Of course!" He gave Natasha one look, and she scoffed, skulking off the way Carver had gone. When the alpha turned back to me, his voice softened to normal levels. "What is it?"

"This is going to sound a little crazy," I said. "But when I said I was using the wand earlier, I was asking it to bring me something to help exonerate Aimee. Then it transported me to the swamp."

"Seems like that wand isn't doing you too many favors," he said.

"Yeah, except that I overheard a conversation between Cal Reaves and Duke Pinfish," I said.

His expression shifted. "What does that bloodsucker want with that mermaid?"

"Cal is trying to get Duke Pinfish to honor the deal he was trying to make with Maria," I said.

A low growl rumbled from the werewolf's throat. "And is the fish going for it?"

"Not yet," I said. "But there was something Pinfish said that I hadn't heard before. He said some witches had offered Maria a million dollars to sell to them instead of the vamp. Now, I know my grandmother took out a mortgage for half a million, and my hunch is that's what the money was to be used for."

"Probably a good hunch," he said.

"But what I don't know is who else contributed funds." I tilted my head in his direction. "That wasn't…you, was it?"

"No." He shook his head. "I sent Carver with our own offer."

"So this million-dollar offer only came from witches?" I asked. "If that was the case, why get involved at all?"

"I wasn't planning on it," he said. "But when your grandmother died, I assumed the deal would fall apart. After all, I heard she was the one spearheading it. I didn't want Maria to succumb to the vampire's plans, so I sent Carver to discuss another offer with her. But as we've discussed, he was unsuccessful."

It seemed to me the alpha should've teamed up with my grandmother to avoid that scenario prior to Big Jo's death, but something told me the alpha didn't like working with others he couldn't dominate.

"Did the vampire say what he wanted with the swamp?" Big Dog asked.

I nodded. "He wants to build a bridge from the Beach to the Hollow."

"A bridge? Over my lands?" The dog let out a growl that was almost feral, then a long string of filthy curses that would've made a sailor blush.

"It all hinges on Duke Pinfish now," I said. "And the only way Pinfish will sell to Cal is if I sell the Cove to the vamp. Pinfish wants it demolished."

"You aren't thinking about doing that, are you?" he asked. "Because if you are, I'd be happy to take it off your hands."

For the first time, when I said no, I meant it. "I have no intention of selling it. The night Maria died, she was finalizing a deal to sell the land. If it wasn't the vampire, and it wasn't you, then it had to have been Big Jo's business partner," I said. "So who could that be?"

"I haven't a clue," he said. "You witches have all manner of secrets." He paused. "Surely, there's some kind of paper trail? A link to an account or something like that?"

"The bank won't tell me if there is," I said. "I'm waiting on Big Jo's death certificate to come in. Apparently, everyone knowing my name only gets me so far."

"That lawyer. Daniel. He's helping you, isn't he?"

I nodded. "He says his hands are tied too."

"Hm. We'll see about that."

Carver drove up in his very expensive car, looking chastened as he got out and opened the passenger side for me, not meeting the gaze of his alpha.

"Take her wherever she wants to go," Big Dog said. "And if I hear you saying another disparaging word about her, I'll take it out of your hide. Understand, son?"

Carver's face turned the color of a tomato. It didn't escape my notice that Natasha seemed immune to the alpha's criticisms, as she inspected her nails off to the side.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Big Dog barked.

"Yes, sir," Carver enunciated, his gaze still on the ground.

"Best of luck," Big Dog said to me, his face softening. "And if the police don't want to help, then you come back here, and we'll make sure to press the issue until it's resolved."

I smiled at him, feeling like I finally had someone in my corner. "Thank you. And I'm really sorry for showing up unannounced."

"Yours is always a face I don't mind seeing," he said, and based on the smile, I was sure he meant it. "But you need to be careful. Someone out there isn't above hurting people to get what they want. I would hate to see you end up like Maria."

~~

Carver didn't say a word to me during the short drive, which was, in my opinion, an improvement. For a man who lived in an RV, his car was impossibly nice, all leather and an engine that more than announced its presence. And practically doused in his expensive cologne—so much so that I'd probably reek of the stuff for days. But he was giving me a ride, and I was sure I probably smelled of swamp water, so it was a fair trade.

The police station was on the edge of town, another small, two-story place that probably held an apartment or more offices upstairs. Carver pulled his car into the empty spot in front of the station, and I got out.

"Thanks for the ride," I said.

He didn't respond, putting the car in park and turning up the radio, as if to wait for me.

I had to smile, feeling quite the spoiled witch at having a werewolf chauffeur all of a sudden, but it dropped off my face as soon as I walked through the front door.

There was one person at work at the police station, reading the latest edition of the Holl-Call. Aimee's face was plastered over it, the headline screaming that she was the cause of all the problems in the water now. I made a mental note to stop by Lewis's shop and wring his neck.

"Can I help you?" Vinnie's voice came from behind the paper.

I half-smiled. "There's been a burglary."

"Jo?" He lowered the corner of the newspaper. "What's going on? A burglary?"

"No, but I can see you're hard at work trying to clear Aimee's name," I replied.

He looked down at the paper before folding it and putting it aside. "We have proof she did it."

"A vial. Circumstantial at best."

"A vial and motive," he said, sounding a little exasperated. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to tell you that the night Maria died, she was meeting with someone to finalize a deal for the sale of her swampland near the Cove," I said. "Someone in business with my grandmother."

"Yes." The paper went back up. "Aimee."

"Aimee doesn't have access to that kind of money," I said through gritted teeth. "Someone in town was working with my grandmother to raise funds to buy the land from Maria. They'd managed to get over a million dollars. If we find who that other person is, we find Maria's killer."

"Then why not bring this to the bank?" He turned the page. "They'll probably be able to tell you who she was in business with."

"I would love to do that, but until I get her death certificate in, they aren't really talking to me," I said. "I was hoping the police might be able to make headway where I couldn't. Considering you're, you know, the police."

"Sorry." He pulled the paper up. "It's out of my hands now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I got word from the Justice Council in New Orleans that the fishes have taken jurisdiction of this case. They've assigned their own people, have their own justice system down there. Aimee's going to be arrested any day now and taken to their place."

"And you don't care," I almost spat. "You're going to sit here and not do your job."

"I did my job. I investigated. Found a suspect. Handed it over to our justice department." He threw down the paper. "It's up to them to prove whether she's guilty or innocent. And if she's as innocent as you say, she'll be back home in no time."

I didn't trust the mermaids to be so fair to her. "Vinnie, you've got to help me out here."

"No, what I've got to do is finish reading this interesting article on the proposed new restaurant coming to Eldred's Beach," he said, pointing to the paper. "If you have a complaint, come back in the morning and tell my boss. Otherwise, beat it."

~~

I was so angry I barely acknowledged Carver. He didn't say anything, except to ask where I wanted to go, and I barely managed "Home" before losing myself in my own furious thoughts. I'd been half joking that the police were on Cal's payroll, but based on Vinnie's response, it seemed more and more likely.

"Turn down—"

"I know where you live."

As my anger dissipated, awkwardness replaced it as I adjusted myself on the fine leather seat. It wasn't as if there were thousands of houses and people in Eldred's Hollow, and the werewolf enclave was up the road from Big Jo's property. But it still seemed weird that he knew where I lived.

He stopped at the green mailbox and gingerly took the dirt road. His car slowed in front of the first house on the property, the log cabin, and a chill swept through me.

"Keep driving," I said.

"But this is—"

"Not my house anymore," I said, nodding toward The Shack on the other end of the property.

"You'd live there instead of a whole house?" he asked, pressing the gas.

"You wouldn't understand," I replied as the log cabin faded from view.

Carver pulled up in front of The Shack, and the whole thing creaked and moaned with excitement as I stepped out of the car.

"That place gives me the creeps," Carver said, eyeing it from the driver's seat. "You sure you want to be here?"

"Fewer ghosts here," I said, lingering on the car door. "Thanks for the ride. Appreciate it."

"What do you want me to tell Big Dog?" he asked. "Doesn't seem like you were too happy with the police. Do you need him to intervene?"

"Unless he has a way of getting me what I need from the bank, then no," I said.

"What do you need?"

"Access to Big Jo's accounts," I said. I doubted the alpha could help, but it couldn't hurt.

"I see." A pause. "I'll let him know."