The next morning, after two cups of the sheriff’s office chicory-and-coffee brew, Scott cleared his desk of all his work, told his secretary he’d be out of town for a few days, and that she could reach him on his cell.
He’d thought long and hard about whom to leave in charge. In all this confusion, Deputy Billy Trosclair was the one who came to mind. Billy might be young, but he’d kept a level head and showed real promise.
He called Billy and asked him to meet him at the diner for lunch. That would give Scott enough time to go home, change, and pack a bag. He’d leave from there, and if the traffic in Baton Rouge was good, make it to New Orleans before four that afternoon.
At the diner, Scott slid into one of the booths in the back, ordered a cup of coffee and waited for Billy to show.
Right at noon, Billy came through the door. The man was certainly punctual. Scott scanned his deputy’s appearance. Everything in order, neatly pressed, hair cut tight and high. Real officer material if Scott ever saw it.
Billy came up to the booth and waited for Scott to ask him to sit down. Then he slid in and put his hat on the table.
“Yes, sir?” Right to business. Scott liked Billy, and he believed the younger man respected him. It was going to be a shame to lose that, but Scott had to do what he had to do.
“I’m going out of town for a few days, and I want you to have my delegation of authority.” No sense in beating around the bush.
The waitress came up as Billy’s mouth hung open. “Can I get you boys anything?”
“Sure. I’ll have the lunch special, and so will Deputy Trosclair.” Scott raised an eyebrow at Billy, and he just nodded.
“Got it. Anything to drink for you, Deputy?” she asked.
“He’ll have coffee.” Scott chuckled. She left them, and Scott snapped his fingers in front of Billy’s face. “Deputy?”
“Yes, sir? Did I hear you correctly? You’re leaving me in charge?”
“Yes, I am. You’ve proved yourself with me, Deputy. And besides, it’s only a few days.” Scott smiled and took a sip of his coffee.
“But there are other men, men with seniority…” he stammered.
“Men who are going crazy. Sure, if I wanted my force to come completely unglued. But I don’t, so it’s you.”
“Me.” Billy blinked, then nodded.
The waitress returned with his coffee, and he took it from her and downed a big gulp of it.
“Thank you, sir. I won’t forget it.” Billy gave him a nod.
Scott hoped he’d never need to ask Billy for anything because that’s not why he did it. If so, he could have picked several other older men with more influence in the pack than Billy.
“Good. Let’s eat.” The food arrived, and the two chatted about the current issues the force had and what to do if anything else arose.
“Mike and Bobby will keep the pack in line. I just need your clear head on the force, understand?” Scott asked.
“Sure do. Mike and Bobby are the best.” He grinned. “Besides you, sir.”
Scott chuckled. “Right. Here’s my personal cell phone number in case you need to reach me.” He gave it to Billy who programmed it into his cell phone. “Don’t use it unless you really have to.”
“Yes, sir.” Billy saluted.
“At ease, Deputy Trosclair.” Scott was positive he’d made the right choice.
When he said goodbye to Billy and got in his truck, Scott’s resolve to get his mate and return with him hadn’t weakened. If anything, it had grown stronger.
Nothing would stand in his way of claiming his mate.
Not even his mate.
»»•««
Ted stood outside the judge’s offices on Governor Nichols Street. The lights were on. He glanced at his watch. Time to face the big bad wolf.
Funny, that phrase just popped into his mind, but he shook off the weird feeling that came with it.
He pushed the doorbell and waited.
The door opened, but it wasn’t the judge. A large man with a bald head stepped back so he could enter.
“I have an appointment with the judge,” Ted told him.
“Come in. He’s expecting you.” The guy nodded and closed the door, then showed Ted to an office.
“He’s here,” the man announced.
“Send him in.” The judge’s deep voice sent a shiver down Ted’s spine. Seriously, he was letting this werewolf shit get the better of him.
Judge Charbonnet wasn’t a werewolf. No fucking way. He was a man, a powerful man, but just a man.
Ted entered and crossed the room to the desk where the judge sat.
“Take a seat, Canedo.” Charbonnet motioned to a chair in front of the desk.
Ted sat. “I have my report.”
“Good. I want names and details.” He clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward.
“Plain and simple—she’s clean. She met no one, she talked to everyone, she painted, and she had all her meals with the group.” Ted shrugged. “If she’s cheating on you, it wasn’t there.”
Charbonnet frowned. “That’s not possible. I know she’s been with someone else.”
“How?” Ted asked.
The judge looked down at his hands. “I just know.”
“Did you see her with someone?” Ted didn’t know why, but he couldn’t resist pressing for more info.
“No.”
“You heard her speaking on the phone to someone? Found receipts she can’t explain? Read her e-mail?” Ted threw out some of the usual warning signs of unfaithful spouses.
“No, not that.” The judge’s eyes narrowed at Ted, and his face flushed.
“Then what? From what I could see and learn from talking to her, she adores you. I don’t know why, but she does.” Ted shrugged. “I think you’re making a problem out of something that isn’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m doing!” Charbonnet exploded, coming out of his chair. “I know it! I could smell—” He cut himself off.
“You could smell him on her?” Ted cocked an eyebrow. “Is that what you were going to say? That’s some sensitive nose you have there.”
Charbonnet studied him. “Yes. A man’s cologne.” He growled, and something primal in that growl warned Ted he might have gone too far.
“Well, there’s lots of explanations for that, aren’t there?” Ted tried to soothe the man.
“Sure there are. Just my jealousy rearing its ugly head.” The judge smiled at him, and Ted thought of a crocodile, all teeth and bad intentions. “Thanks for the report.”
“Sure.” Something about the guy’s 360-degree turnaround bothered him.
“Now, about your fee.” The judge pulled open the drawer. Ted held his breath, thinking this could be his last if there was a gun in there.
Charbonnet pulled out a checkbook. “You’ll take another check, right?”
“Of course. You’re good for it.” Ted nodded. He watched as the judge wrote the check, ripped it off, and handed it to him.
Before Ted could take it, the judge pulled it away. “What else did you learn, Canedo?” His eyes narrowed.
“About what?” Ted shifted in his chair as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
“About me. About my wife.”
“Nothing. Like I told you, she adores you. She’s happy to be married to you.”
“Do you find that odd?” The judge caught Ted in his gaze.
“Honestly, yeah. You’re older, she’s young and gorgeous.” He shrugged. “But hey, there’s no telling what makes one person fall for another.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Could be a love spell, soul mates, who knows.”
The judge’s face changed, his eyes became cold and hard. “Exactly. Who knows.”
Ted waited. Better to keep his mouth shut right now.
“What do you know, Canedo?”
“You asked me that before. I told you what I know. That’s it.”
“Something makes me not believe that.” The judge tapped the check on his desk as if deciding something.
Ted’s gaze rested on the check. Five grand. His instincts told him to get up and leave. Just go and forget about the check, but he needed that money.
“Here. Take it.” Charbonnet handed him the check.
Ted took it, folded it, and shoved it into his shirt pocket. Then he stood, ready to get the hell out of there.
“Thanks, Judge. Have a good evening.” Ted nodded and backed out of the room.
In the hall, the big goon leaned against the wall, waiting. Ted didn’t look at him, just beelined for the door to get away.
He was halfway down the block before he exhaled. He touched the pocket, confirming the check was still there and kept walking.
At the corner, two men stepped out of the shadows and faced him. In the dim streetlights, Ted recognized the man from the judge’s office.
So he wouldn’t be getting away after all.
»»•««
Scott rang the buzzer on the alleyway door. He had the correct address, he was sure of that. Perhaps Ted was at dinner. He’d tried calling on his way there, but it went to voicemail. He decided to not leave a message. No sense in talking to Ted, at least until he could see him face to face.
He rang the doorbell again, leaning on the button far longer than he should. A pissed-off Ted would be better than no Ted at all.
But it looked like he’d struck out. At least, with the normal ways of finding someone.
Scott glanced up and down the street. A few people walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the street, but no one was anywhere near him.
He squatted, leaned toward the handle of the door, and sniffed. Ted’s scent filled his nostrils, and his cock rose to it. His mate. He growled low in his throat.
Now that he had it, he could track Ted if he hadn’t been gone too long. He inhaled and caught a whiff of his mate.
Scott stood and followed his trail through the Quarter. He reached a corner and stepped into a bar. It was early, almost nine, and the bar held only a few patrons and a bartender.
Ted’s scent got lost in the odor of stale beer and something else…sex maybe. Scott looked around at the people. They stared at him, trying to figure out who he was and what he wanted.
Scott headed to the bartender and called him over.
“I’m looking for Ted Canedo.”
“What for?” The bartender gave him the once-over. “You a cop?”
Scott ignored him. “I have a job for him. Was he in earlier?”
“Yeah, grabbed a shot and headed out.”
“Did he say where?” Scott pulled a ten out of his pocket and placed it on the bar.
“No. Ted keeps to himself, except when he doesn’t.” The bartender smirked at him as he slid the money into his hand.
“What does that mean?”
“Just that Ted doesn’t just come in here for a little twink action. He’s got other places he goes to get what he needs.”
Scott looked around again with fresh eyes. So the young men sitting against the walls were “twinks” and as such, available for sex. Probably for a price.
The thought of Ted being with any of them brought up a growl from his chest.
“Anyone here tonight?”
“Nope. Had his drink and left.”
Scott exhaled. “How did he seem?”
“What do you mean? Like happy, sad, worried?”
“Yeah.”
He shrugged. “Like he had something to do and didn’t like it.”
“Thanks.” Scott nodded and moved off. “Hey, which way did he go?”
The bartender pointed out another door that opened onto the side street. “Toward the back of the quarter.”
Scott left the bar, but not without seeing the frowns on some of the younger guys’ faces. He hated to disappoint them, but the only man he wanted was Ted Canedo.
In the street, he moved away from the bar, inhaled, and caught Ted’s scent. Between that and his cell number, Scott was certain he’d find Ted.
He brought up Ted’s name and hit the number, leaned against a building, and listened to it ring.
It went to voicemail again. “Hi, it’s Ted. Leave your name and number. I’ll get back to you.” Then the beep.
Scott’s mouth went dry. This time, he’d leave a message. “Listen, Ted. It’s Scott. I need to talk to you. I need to see you. I need…” He licked his lips, but nothing else came to him, not without sounding like a lovesick puppy.
The message beeped and disconnected.
Scott shoved his phone back in the pocket of his jeans and kept walking.