| |
“Alright. So we have a shit ton of silver, guns, gun powder, casings and four Werewolves. Not to be the one asking the obvious here, but do we know how many there are of them?” I ask as Danny and J.D. come back from getting dressed. No one seems to want to talk about what is actually going down all around us. Five or six people even if they are Weres couldn’t do all this damage. Someone isn’t being upfront. I know I am not the only one thinking it, but I seem to be the only one saying it.
“When did they start going berserk?”
“Early fall last year. When Callahan found out about his brother Robert.” Montgomery grunts pulling a box from a cabinet. “Wouldn’t you say that was the right time? Wade?”
Wade looks at his paperwork shuffling through a large pack of files. “Yeah, before that things were pretty normal, disappearances were going up. But not alarmingly high. Patrick was law abiding back then too, did a fair amount of gambling but nothing to call home about criminally.”
“Who’s Patrick?” Danny asks coming back into the room tucking her shirt and adjusting her guns.
“That would be Patrick Callahan. Brother to Robert the Mauler Callahan. Your last big name hunt.” Montgomery chimes back in. “That’s what brought me out here in the first place. I had to notify the next of kin. When I did all hell broke loose here. Patrick went on a bender and then went missing for like a month. When he came back he had Jimmy Straights with him and they started in on the citizens of San Francisco.”
“Right... So what you’re sayin’ is this is all my fuckin’ fault. So ya’ll thinkin’ it’s fittin’ to just throw me to the Werewolves?”