Chapter 14

The rest of the school day was relatively uneventful, save for a fight in the boys' locker room. Hanson was relieved that the other students had stopped giving him funny looks, but apparently Alyssa and David had told their friends what had happened at Rocket Dog, and their friends had told their friends . . . Tom wasn't too worried about the rumors, Halloween being as close as it was. He was more worried about the alpha and Mason Folan.

Hanson was currently hanging out in the school parking lot by his Mustang, eyes closed, and concentrating on different clusters of students, listening in on conversations. After "station hopping" from a girl talking to her friend to a group of jocks, he heard a couple of familiar voices.

"Come on, Alyssa. You're not gonna chicken out on me, are you?"

"David, I think you're nuts. There's no way Tom is a werewolf!"

"Hey, you saw the fangs as well as I did. Not to mention the growling. Did that sound like a wolf to you? 'Coz it sure did to me."

"Just drop it, okay? Besides, he's right there. He can probably hear you."

Tom's eyes snapped open. He could see David and Alyssa a couple yards away, the latter looking as if she would be anywhere else, the boy looking somewhat . . . actually, Tom didn't know what word would describe David. He just watched as the dark-haired senior came closer. It was highly doubtful the boy knew anything about the murder, but a fistfight would feel good.

"You need something?" Tom asked casually.

Alyssa jumped and let out a little squeak. The 'wolf could smell the fear on her, and he felt slightly guilty. David, on the other hand, shared no such feelings. He answered, "Yeah. I got a bone to pick with you."

Hanson rolled his eyes. "One: I don't have time for this crap. Two: that sounds like a line from a really bad movie. Back off, okay?"

Of course, the kid decided to take a step forward and swing. Tom ducked it easily and socked David in the stomach. David doubled over, face contorted in pain, then stood and aimed a fist at Tom's abdomen. The cop blocked it and, grabbing a fistful of the senior's shirt, flipped their positions and slammed David down on his Mustang.

"You done?" he snarled in the boy's ear. "Or would you rather I kicked your tail even more?"

"Let me up, man. I'm done. I won't bother you again."

"Good." Hanson released him, watching with cool satisfaction as David and Alyssa stumbled over each other as they booked it across the lot.

Hoffs came up and leaned against the Mustang. "What was that about? Those two look like they saw a ghost."

"It's nothing," Tom answered. "He came at me, so I had to kick his tail. You ready to leave?"

She blinked: her version of complete astonishment. "Uh, sure. I'll follow you."

"Sounds good to me."

...

Captain Jenko was playing his guitar when Tom and Judy walked in. Doug and Harry were upstairs in the locker room, or so Hanson could tell from their scent.

"Hey, you two," Jenk said. "What's up?"

"We're going to a club tonight," Tom blurted without preamble.

"WHAT?" The shout came from Doug and Harry, who slid down the pole. They stared open-mouthed at Tom and Judy. Then Doug pumped his fist into the air. "Oh, yes! I am so there."

"No, you're not!" Judy exclaimed. "This is our case, Penhall!"

"Your point?"

"Mason thinks only Tom and I will be there. If everyone goes, he'll suspect something's up."

"But—"

"She's right," Tom interrupted.

Doug turned on him. "Who asked you?"

Tom felt his lips curl in a snarl. "Who said you could butt in on our case?" He allowed his canines to sharpen enough to make Penhall think he was imagining things, but not enough to give himself away. Judy was the only one he trusted with his secret at the moment.

His best friend's mouth opened for a furious retort, but Jenko cut in with, "Quit it, you three. Have you forgotten you're not actually teenagers?"

There was silence from the squabbling officers, while Harry was trying not to laugh. After surveying Tom, Judy, and Doug, the captain continued, "Sorry, Penhall, but Hoffs and Hanson are going in."

Tom grinned. "Thanks, Captain."

"Just behave yourself. And remember: no bust. We still don't know who the perp is yet."

"Got it, Coach," Tom said, exchanging an excited look with Judy.

Doug saw the look and sighed. "Why didn't I get this assignment?"

No one had an answer for him.

...

For the next two hours, the team just hung out. Penhall had discovered the jukebox in the corner actually worked, and he was blaring rock music. Tom didn't care much for his friend's taste in bands, but he did like Bon Jovi.

He was sitting at the table, scribbling down notes in a notebook, when he felt someone sit down on the table. Even without looking, he knew who it was. "Yeah, Jude?"

"It's seven o'clock. Don't we have to be at the Burnout at eight?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, we have to decide what we're going to wear. Have you ever been to a nightclub, Hanson?" A second later, she said quickly, "Don't answer that. I think I already know the answer."

Tom glanced down at his jeans, black T-shirt, and leather jacket. In a slightly insulted tone, he asked, "What's wrong with this?"

Judy rolled her eyes. "Has Penhall taught you nothing?"

"Hey!" Doug protested indignantly. "That hurt, Judy."

"I'm bleeding with sympathy," she snapped. Judy then returned to Hanson, surveying him with a critical eye. The werewolf felt rather like he was on display in a museum. At last, Judy said, "Well, I suppose the jeans and shirt are okay, but you're going to have to ditch the jacket."

"But Judy—" he whined.

"Just do it, Hanson," Harry said. "If you don't, she'll make your life miserable."

Tom sighed. "Okay. What are you wearing?" he asked his female partner.

She grinned, and he could smell excitement and anticipation coming off her in waves. "You'll see."

With that, Judy vanished upstairs. She was back down ten minutes later. Eyes turned on his partner, Tom gave a low whistle. "You look great, Jude."

He meant it. The female officer was wearing black pantyhose, a black miniskirt, white halter top, and her denim jacket with the gold decorations. It left very little to Tom's imagination.

"Thanks, Hanson," she replied. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck, you two," Harry said.

"Have fun, peaches," Jenko told Judy.

"Oh, we will," Tom said. He slung his arm over Judy's shoulder as they walked outside. "You wanna take the Mustang?" he asked.

"Sure," Judy answered.

...

Mason Folan was waiting for them outside the club when they arrived. He said, "Glad you could make it," but his eyes were on Judy. Tom forced down the growl rising in his throat.

Judy only nodded and linked her arm through Tom's. He knew Mason thought they were dating, so he understood why she did it. It wasn't their original cover, but Tom could work with it.

"So," he began, "are we going in or not?"

"You lead," Mason said, opening the door to the club.

Flashing a quick look at Judy, Tom stepped inside. Mason shut the door behind them.

Tom's first impression was sound and lights. The club was spacious, had fluorescent lights, and was full of dancing teens. Music blared from a hidden sound system, starting a new song. Hanson recognized it as being from an LP released in 1980, seven years ago. He thought, Here we go.

"Come on, Tom," Judy said. "Let's dance." She pulled him through the crowd away from Mason and brought her body close to his as she moved to the hard rock rhythm.

" . . . Lookin' for a teenage
Lookin' for a teenage overdose
Lookin' for a good time
Ready for a bad time
Comin' so close

Lookin' for a teenage
Lookin' for a teenage comatose
If you're lookin' for some rock 'n' roll
Lookin' for some rock 'n' roll
I'll give you a dose

One foot in hell

One foot in hell
And you know the other's got to be
Walkin' with the devil and settin' him free . . ."

Tom glanced around nervously. As he turned his head, he caught a whiff of his dancing partner's scent. It suddenly became hard to concentrate on the case, even with Mason close by. His eyes flitted over her face, the curve of her neck, and then down her body. His tongue flicked out, wetting his dry lips.

". . . You're lookin' for a cover
Don't wanna tell your mother
I know you're out there
You're an underground lover

One foot in hell
And you know the other's gonna go
For you and me at the end of the show
One foot in hell . . ."

The song brought Hanson out of his daze. He also felt someone tapping a finger on his shoulder. Tom turned around and jumped. "How'd you get here?"

John Bryant shrugged his shoulders. "Nice to see you too, Henderson. Hi there, J.J. In answer to your question, my pa—" He broke off, looking uncertainly at Judy.

"It's okay," Tom assured him. "She knows."

John looked like he was going to say something about that, changed his mind, and continued, "My pack leader sprung me."

"Pack leader?" Judy echoed.

"I'll tell you later," Hanson whispered in her ear.

"Oh, okay."

Tom started to turn his head back to focus on John when he saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. He cried, "Hit the deck!" and shoved both Judy and John down to the floor with him. The knife embedded itself to the hilt in a nearby column.

"Hey, dude, I think you can get off me," came John's muffled voice.

"Oh, sorry." Tom scrambled off the dealer, releasing his hold on Judy as well. "Just stay down."

"What just happened?" Judy asked, rubbing her neck.

"I don't know," Tom said, "but we're gonna find out. Hopefully before I end up dead.

". . . Lookin' for a teenage
Lookin' for a teenage overdose
Lookin' for a good time
Ready for a die time
Comin' so close . . ."