Mace wanted to growl, seeing Clark swagger into the lineup room, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. It was lighting a fire in Mace’s gut.
“Okay Roan,” Trent said, bustling in, and closing the viewing room door. “They can’t see or hear you. All you have to do is study each person carefully, and let us know if you recognize the guy you saw that night. The men will be standing side-by-side facing forward and then in profile. If you want to hear their voices, we can get them to say something too.”
Mace could see that Roan was studying each man carefully, paying attention to the faces more than anything else. When Roan hadn’t said anything after a full minute, he stepped forward, tapping Roan on the shoulder. “Would it be easier if the men were standing in profile?”
“Oh, I know who I think it is,” Roan said. “I just don’t want to make a mistake. I know how important this is to all of you. It would help if I could hear them say something just to be sure. Or sniff them, but I’m guessing that’s not allowed.”
“Yeah, might seem a bit weird, but we can fix the voice side of things.” Trent went over to the intercom system and instructed each man to step forward, turn to their left side and say, “The lady wears a red dress.”
“Really?” Mace looked shocked.
“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Trent said with a grin. “Now hush.”
Mace supposed he should be watching the men go through the instructions they were given, but he was too busy watching Roan, who seemed fascinated that grown men would follow Trent’s instructions. Although his eyes shot back to the window when Clark took his turn. The man was too damn cocky for his own good and Mace’s gut tightened. Clark was hiding something, and Mace assumed it was he’d killed his wife and thought he’d got away with it. But now he wasn’t so sure.
“It’s number four.” Yes. Roan had picked out Clark, just as Mace knew he would.
“Great stuff,” Trent said. Mace hadn’t been allowed to have anything to do with the recording of Roan’s statement in case Clark’s lawyer caught wind of the fact that Roan and he were a couple. “I just need your signature, here, and then here.” Roan signed the documents.
“Now,” Trent continued. “I want you to stay in this room for at least five minutes, then Mace is going to take you back to the pack house. That will lessen the chances of you being seen. Mace, I’ll see you back here once you’ve dropped Roan off?”
“You can count on it.” Mace wanted nothing more than to have Clark squirming in the interview room. He’d see that guy go down for the murders if it was the last thing he did.
/~/~/~/~/
Roan had never been so thankful to see the front doors of the precinct as he was when Mace was ready to take him home. The walk through the offices was worse than before. Mace had been stopped more times than he could count by people wanting to meet their colleague’s new “life partner”. Everyone seemed more curious than anything, and Roan hoped that meant his mate wouldn’t get a hard time simply because of him. More than one person asked how they’d met, and Roan had been shocked when Mace said that he’d been Roan’s arresting officer. But his friends thought it was a joke.
Now though, standing on the steps outside the precinct, the hairs on the back of Roan’s neck stood up and his wolf growled a warning in his head. He stopped walking, and turned slowly scanning the cars, traffic, people on the street. There. Roan’s eyes widened in shock.
“Roan. Roan, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Over there, in the blue car across the street,” Roan said in a rush because the man in the car started it up and was slowly cruising past the station. When the car came level to where Roan was standing the man pointed two fingers, and even Roan with his lack of social nuances knew what that meant.
“Fucking hell,” Mace said sharply, pulling out his phone and grabbing Roan by the arm, dragging him to the safety of his car.
“Dimitri, we’ve got a fucking problem,” he snapped into the phone.
“We’ve got a bigger problem than anything you might come up with. Aaron Clark doesn’t have the right scent. He’s not our man.” Roan could hear Dimitri’s anger through the phone.
“Get Trent to check Clark’s family background – parents, siblings anything you can get. And check out the following plate number to see if you can get an address.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Clark isn’t our man. Somehow Roan got it wrong.”
“I’m heading to the pack-house now. Roan spotted a guy watching us from the other side of the street. I’d swear by all that’s holy, the man is Clark’s twin. Vehicle registration number one, Lima, Foxtrot, Alpha, seven, five, nine. He knows Roan’s the witness.”
“We’ll meet you at the pack house.” Dimitri hung up and Mace kept driving, weaving in and out of traffic with ease. Roan was still sitting in shock. He’d seen Clark in the lineup room; this man was dressed differently. But in appearance he was almost identical right down to the straggly hairs on his moustache. The only thought buzzing around his head was that he’d failed. He’d failed Mace; He’d let down Dimitri and Shane. And the women who’d died. Roan was crushed. He’d been so sure that what he’d seen would have some value; would be able to help his mate and his friends put the man away for murder. But he’d been wrong.
“Roan, this wasn’t your fault.” Mace’s deep rumble cut through Roan’s thoughts. “You thought it was Clark because that’s who I told you it would be. It was my hunch that led you in that direction, nothing else. Don’t go blaming yourself. If anyone’s at fault, it was me for failing to look into Clark’s background.”
“Your gut told you there was something going on with Clark.” Roan’s defense of his mate was automatic. “And you don’t know, maybe Clark did kill his wife. There was no scent on the first murder; Shane told me it’d faded by the time Dimitri went to look at her. And there was alcohol at the second scene, so that’s not your fault either.”
“I don’t sniff out my crime scenes,” Mace said. “I do my detecting the old fashioned way – following leads and clues.”
That’s right. His mate wasn’t a shifter, but sometimes, especially when Mace was all growly and protective like he’d been in the precinct, it was hard to remember that. Roan blushed. “I just meant that if your gut was telling you something was off about Clark then you should listen to it. Humans don’t listen to their sixth sense very often, but it’s just as reliable as any animal spirit.”
“You believe that?” Roan wondered why Mace seemed surprised.
“Of course. And now that we’re mated all of your other senses will be enhanced as well. It doesn’t pay to ignore them.”
Mace nodded and grimaced. “I could certainly smell Sheryl drenched herself with perfume this morning. I thought I was going to gag. I’ve never noticed it that bad before. And freaking George clearly had garlic for dinner the night before, and the smell of Andy’s body odor almost made my eyes water.”
“It’ll probably get worse. I notice the same things, but as a shifter we’re trained to block it out unless the smells are super strong.” Roan looked out of the window. They were almost at the pack house. He turned back to Mace. “Do you regret mating me?”
Roan had to give Mace credit that the man didn’t answer right away. It meant he was taking the question seriously and was thinking about his answer.
Mace parked the car in front of the pack house and turned in his seat. Ronan could see the curtain twitching and knew that Kalel was probably watching them, but he wanted to hear what Mace had to say.
“I’ll never regret you claiming me,” Mace said, catching Roan’s hands in his and holding them tight. “I might regret that I haven’t been a good mate until now. But regret you being in my life? Never.” He leaned over and Roan closed his eyes as Mace’s lips touched his. Light, gentle, but that tiny action said so much.
“Besides,” Mace said when he pulled back. “I never thanked you for arranging vacation time for me. I haven’t had a holiday in years.”
“You weren’t mad about that?”
Mace opened his door and stepped out, leaning back inside to flash Roan a grin. “It’s just another way you’re looking after me, and if you had a selfish motive for it, then I’m sure I’m not going to mind.”
That was something else Roan was going to have to ponder, or talk to Kalel about because the little cat shifter seemed to know so much more about social interactions than he did. He heard Dimitri and Shane’s SUV pull up behind Mace and seconds later, Trent’s car as well. He scrambled out of the car, and joined his mate on the porch, pleased that Mace immediately took his hand. From the serious faces of the others, Roan had a feeling he was going to be in for a long afternoon. Maybe Kalel would like help preparing lunch.