Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Twenty-one questions."

Jacob took a swig of his beer and laughed, "Oh c'mon, Clearwater. What are we in, high school?"

Sometimes, Leah wished she was. High school was high school with all its dramatics, and such, but in retrospect, life had been so much easier. She didn't have to worry about being an adult.

"You're talking to someone who loves UNO," Leah replied, wiggling her eyebrows. She wasn't ashamed of her affinity for so-called childish games. "Yes, twenty-one questions. Anything goes."

Jacob scoffed. "Anything goes? You really wanna go down that road?" he asked between bites of a hamburger slider. They had ordered a dinner's worth of food from the Happy Hour menu. Thankfully, Quill had a friends-only discount (which the detectives knew they would have to make up for his generosity in the future—but they could worry about that when the time arrived).

"That's what the WB's for," Leah lifted her beer. "Lowers your inhibition."

"As I said, you really wanna do that road?" Jacob asked, serious. But not really. He was only messing with her. When Leah nodded, he slapped the table and declared, "Fine. Let's go."

Leah grinned. "You sure? You can back out if you want."

Jacob puffed out his chest. "I ain't a wuss."

"Can't lie."

"Same goes for you."

Leah rolled her eyes at Jacob's snarky reply. "Fine," she said. She folded her hands and stretched them forward. "Wanna take a crack at it?"

Jacob relaxed against the back of his chair and gestured towards Leah. Ladies, first."

"How chivalrous of you—Why did you decide to become a cop?"

"I don't think we've ever talked about this, have we?"

"Shockingly no. Goodness knows we've talked about everything else." Leah grabbed a handful of fries (one of her many food weaknesses) and drenched them with malt vinegar. "Well?"

"I wanted to do something with my life. Preferably without familial intervention."

"You could've chosen another profession."

"With only a high school diploma? Luckily for me, CPD wasn't so particular about degrees back in the day." Jacob shrugged. "So, why not become a cop? The job's stable enough. And I get a pension."

Leah nodded. Cops in the city weren't millionaires (unless they hit the lotto or were trust-fund babies), but it could've been so much. And the way Chicago was, being a major city, it didn't seem like any layoffs were going to happen anytime soon. And then, of course, there was overtime money.

"What did Monica say?"

"No, it's your turn," Jacob pointed out, shaking his head. His easy grin assured Leah that he hadn't been put off by the mention of his ex-wife. Thank goodness. "Why did you decide to become a cop?"

Leah narrowed her eyes. "You can't re-ask my question."

"Re-ask?" Jacob teased, then laughed when Leah gave him in the finger. "You said anything goes, Clearwater. I'm just following the rules."

"Fine," Leah agreed with a wave of the hand, and then answered, "I'm nosy."

"No, a real reason."

"Yeah, I'm nosy," Leah stressed. "I like solving problems, getting to the bottom of things. I used to love those cop shows— Heat of the Night. Law and Order. Columbo, all of that stuff. Thought it was cool... and I wanted to be like my dad."

She used to think her father was so powerful, so cool. Like a superhero. She could remember all those times when Harry used to let her play with his badge, used to teach her detective tricks. How to properly clean a gun. How to read body language like an open book— honestly, Leah couldn't remember a time when she didn't want to be a detective.

Bittersweet memories.

Biting her lip, Leah reached for more fries and the last slider. The conversation stalled into silence until Jacob asked in a voice Leah couldn't pinpoint, "Ask me about Monica."

Leah glanced up from her plate of food, raising an eyebrow. He sounded so vehement about it. Maybe he simply wanted to change topics. "You can't demand a question to be asked," she pointed out, then, "What did Monica say?"

There was a hesitance in Jacob's response, "She said she was down, but I knew she wasn't. Said if I wanted to be in law enforcement, then I should stick to the suburbs. Nothing much goes down out there, at least, not compared to Chicago... I think she was worried about me, but what do I know about the suburbs? Nothing. I was born and raised in this city. Why go anywhere else?"

"I get it," Leah said, sincere. She couldn't imagine being in another city despite the insanity. Her heart belonged in Chicago. "Was that your question for me?"

"No—What did you see in Sam?"

Leah tossed her head back and groaned. She knew that man was going to a topic of discussion up tonight, but ultimately, she couldn't be too mad at Jacob; she had no one to blame but herself. But she supposed if she were going to talk about her ex-husband, then the man across from her would be the perfect audience.

"You, bastard."

"What? You said anything goes," Jacob argued with a teasing smile, and then in a moment of panic, "You don't have to—"

Leah put up a hand and spoke before her friend started spewing out the apologies, "Besides being handsome? He was stable," she paused. "Not to say that I've had a history of being with crazy men, I don't. I mean, there was one or two people, here and there. But I'd like to think I don't attract crazy."

Jacob remained silent.

"I don't know, he had this calming presence about him," Leah continued, fiddling with chain bracelet— It had been a while since she had to think about this. Even when she was still married. She just liked him; that was it. "And he was very determined. He knew what he wanted, and he went after it... ain't that a double-edged sword?" She dropped her gaze and mumbled, "He used to make everything feel better, and then, he made everything worse…"

"I see he's making a concerted effort to get into your good graces," Jacob said, voice flat and steady, but tight as a plucked wire. He wasn't fooling anyone. "That's progress."

Leah looked up. "You don't like him, don't you?" She already knew the

answer. "Did you ever? And yes, this question counts."

Jacob sat up, rolling his shoulders. "I never had a problem with him, if that's what you're wondering. Always heard good things about the man, even from Rollins, and he hates everyone." The detectives shared a chuckle, then, "As a public servant, I think he's great. As a person, he's a lying bastard. Three years? God damn."

"I'm over it."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "You are?"

"Yeah," Leah said. "I just don't like being lied to."

Jacob swallowed. "Leah—"

"I'm not talking about that," Leah fiercely maintained. "At least your apology was sincere. Sometimes, I think he just apologized to get me out of his face. If you haven't noticed, I can be overbearing... but it's done. He has his own life and a kid. And a girlfriend... I can't believe they're still together."

"Your turn."

Leah shook her head. "That was a follow-up, doesn't count."

"Yeah, it does," Jacob insisted. "Go ahead."

Leah decided not to fight Jacob on this. "Are you concerned about the Fangs?" she asked. "I know you've been trying to avoid bumping heads with them. Now, I don't think you're gonna have much of a choice."

Especially since it was confirmed that the bodies found in West Lawn were linked to the Fangs. Everyone, including the feds, was holding their breath, waiting for the gang's next move.

"I'm not gonna lie; I'm surprised I've lasted this far. I've been asked numerous times to play on both sides. But I declined every single time. People've been killed for less. Collin, his dad, my dad, they could've seen it as betrayal, but I couldn't do it… I told them to stay out of Chicago. I can't touch them from beyond the city limits. They didn't have to worry about a damn thing; I wouldn't be involved. CPD wouldn't be involved—"

"The feds can."

"Yeah, but I ain't with the feds, am I?" The question was rhetorical. Jacob sighed before downing the rest of his beer. He signaled a bartender over and ordered another, without WB. "They should've stayed out of Chicago," he said when the bartender left. "And now, several of their buddies are dead."

Leah waited for Jacob to finish his transaction with the bartender before saying, "So, you're concerned."

She wouldn't judge him if he were. Fuck, she would be, too.

"Not about me, per se. I can handle them. But with the pack..." Jacob trailed off, then locked eyes with Leah. "And there's you."

Leah had averted her gaze and cleared her throat. No, she wasn't going to go there. Not tonight. Tonight was supposed to light and fun. Nothing too stressful. Nothing too introspective— she tried to push the thought of her mind, but she couldn't help but ask, "They know about…?"

Jacob sighed. "Yeah."

He didn't sound too happy about it.

But it was fine. They had both been through far worse.

Leah finished her beer and ordered another one. "Follow up?" she suggested after paying her drinks (despite Jacob's vehement attempts to shove his own money into the bartender's hands). "Then, you can ask two in the row."

Jacob pocketed his money. "Knock yourself out."

"Did Monica know about the Fangs?"

"Going back into the past, are we?" Jacob teased. "I've known her since high school. I couldn't exactly hide that." He sighed. "I know, such BS, especially since I failed to tell her about the wolf until the least inopportune time."

"I didn't say anything."

Jacob gave Leah a knowing look. "Your eyes said it all."

Leah felt a little bad. "No judgment," she said, putting up both hands.

Jacob's wave was dismissive. "Oh, come on, we all do—" He stopped and leaned forward. "What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?"

"Besides getting fake married to you by an Elvis impersonator? Or running after vampires without any backup?"

"Stupid prior to 2018," Jacob clarified.

Leah had to think about an answer. She'd like to think she was a pragmatic person. The kind not to jump into situations without mulling over the possibilities, but positive and negative. She was never truly into surprises; she couldn't prepare for them.

"Stupid…" Leah trailed off, rubbing her hands together as if doing so would unclog her memory. "Oh, there was this one time when Emily and I had to babysit Seth. It was years ago I think we were freshmen in high school? My old neighbors were involved in so much relationship drama, and it made mine seem boring. I'm telling you; they needed a damn reality show…"

Jacob interrupted with a deep chuckle.

Leah smiled. "I'm telling you, they had everything: cheating spouses, baby mama-drama, in-law drama, lawyers, insane arguments. There was this one time when the wife lit her husband's clothes on fire."

"Did they get a divorce?"

"No, wait—So that night, my mom was away. I think she was having dinner with her friends or something like that. And usually, we're not allowed to eavesdrop on neighbor drama, but mom wasn't home, so we did what was expected—"

"You eavesdropped."

Leah smirked. "We filmed the entire incident. So, the wife was also messing around with the divorce lawyer. Her husband's divorce lawyer who was also, I think, his cousin—" she shook her head. "It was all messed up."

"So, you filmed them hooking up?"

"Yeah. So, we have this video, damning video and thought: hey, we can use this to advantage and came up with the wonderful idea to inform the wife—"

Jacob snorted. "You tried to extort her."

"You said, stupid, right?" Leah said and then added, "Extort was a strong word," and then, "Okay, so maybe, we did. So, we have this entire plan, even looked into laws just in case we get busted. But then, as we looked at the footage, we realized that the damn branches were blocking the view. So, being an avid tree climber, decided to climb the tree that separated the homes to get a better view—"

"You fell."

"Right on my ass. And of course, I screamed so loudly that the wife, who was in a room with an open window, rushed out of the house to check up on me. She was really sweet about it, even alled the ambulance and my mom because, of course, I broke my arm."

Jacob was thoroughly amused. "And I'm guessing she found out about the camera."

Leah dropped her head, ashamed. "Yeah, she did. So, to ensure that the wife not to call our mothers and the cops, we had to clean her house and yard for a month. We had to tell my mom that we only did the cleaning to make some money." She shook her head. "Never doing that again."

Jacob laughed, then asked, "Did the neighbors ended up getting a divorce?"

"Nope, still married." Leah laughed at the thought. Couldn't make this up. "They're now swingers, and I'm pretty sure the lawyer-boyfriend's involved in that little arrangement, as well… like I said, all messed up."

"Wife still mad at you?"

"We've made up," Leah said, remembering that she and her family were having dinner at their neighbor's tomorrow night. "I was, what? Fourteen? Fourteen-year-olds are dumb."

"Ain't that the truth." Jacob nodded. "Did Sue ever find out?"

"Nope, and she never will."

"What do you have for us, Bella?" Leah asked the following morning as she handed the medical examiner a cup of coffee while Jacob did the same for Eric. It was a small token of their appreciation.

"Thank you for this," Bella said, lifting her cup before setting it aside. She washed her hands, slapped on a pair of latex gloves, walked towards the set of bones on the examination table, and pulled back the sheet. She took one glance and recovered the bones. "Believe it or not, our friends at the lab got lucky."

"Very lucky," Eric said with a triumphant grin. He opened a metal drawer and pulled out a plastic bag. "The perps did a good decent cleaning up the scene, but they didn't get to everything." He held up a bag containing a couple of strands of hair. "Found lodged in an opening of a skull. Forensics did their thing and found a match. Robert James. Age 43 from St. Louis."

Leah glanced at Jacob, based on the look on his face, might have heard of the man. "We'll do a name check," she told the doctors. Not even a second later, Jacob pulled out his phone and asked Martinez at the station to run James' name."

"That's not all," Bella said. "We all figured that the victims weren't killed in the ditch. Their bones were deposited off after the fact. Good news, though: one the CSI folks reached out to us about a bunch of wood shavings found. Definitely not native to the area." She directed Eric to show the detectives the evidence. "My guess— the shards were gathered up with the bones. Probably in a plastic bag."

"African Blackwood," Eric said. "AKA Mozambique Ebony AKA as the most expensive work in the world. Native to Eastern Africa. Primarily used in the making of woodwind instruments."

"We reached out to a friend who specializes in dendrology," Bella continued. "He said the wood is dated, roughly over a hundred years old."

"We could be looking for an old instrument factory," Leah suggested, earning a nod from Jacob, who was still on the phone. "This city used to be famous for manufacturing musical instruments. I know there's one near the Stock Yards. Hasn't been operating in decades."

"Any news on James?" Leah asked Jacob as they walked out of the Office of the Medical Examiner. The doctors' evidence wasn't groundbreaking, but compared to what they had before this morning, it was one of their most significant leads yet. They might have an actual scene of a crime.

"I knew I've heard of him," Jacob said, playing with his phone as they descended the stairs. He quickly dialed a number. "I think he was Eric's bodyguard or something. He's been arrested a couple of times on petty crimes and assault. Served six months in Cook County for it. Got off probation a couple of years back and then moved to Saint Louis."

"So, this is more or less a confirmation that the bones belonged to the Fangs."

Jacob nodded, then over the phone, "Hey Martinez, you got anything on this guy, Robert James… Yeah, Bella and her people got a match for him… Yeah, I know he was with Eric… Oh, he did own some property in Chicago. A couple of places." He exchanged a glance with Leah, who grinned. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We're gonna check out this factory near the Stocks…Keep us posted."

Leah fished the keys out of her pocket and unlocked the car. "River North. That's not a cheap place to live. James must have been raking in some serious cash. Compared to the rest of the Fangs." She entered the car, followed by Jacob. "Martinez heading there by himself?"

"He's taking Jared along," Jacob said. He tapped his nose and smirked. "For the nose."

"Ah, yes." Leah turned on the engine. "One of our many powers." She checked her mirrors and put the gear into drive. "So, off to the creepy factory number one?"

"Off to the creepy factory number one."

"Something definitely went down in here. I think we seriously lucked out. The first factory we stopped at, and we may have hit a gold mine."

At first glance, Leah couldn't see what her partner was seeing. To her, the building she was standing inside was just another standard, abandoned factory. Cracked windows, doors hanging from the hinges, rusted over machines, and rotting wood. Brick walls with fading paint. Cracked concrete and wooden floors with grasses and weeds growing in between gaps.

Leah withdrew the phone from her pocket and turned on the flashlight. The sun rays seeping through the wall openings, and doorways only did so much to light up the interior.

"You sound very sure of yourself," she replied with a low snort. Not that she doubted her partner, but they had only entered the building a minute ago, and he was making such a bold claim? They couldn't be this lucky.

"The nose doesn't lie," Jacob said. "Here. Close your eyes, and breathed in. What do you have?"

Leah did so. Nothing much was out of the ordinary. Just rotting wood, metal. Rust, obviously rust. And must... there was definitely some standing water towards the back, beyond the wall in front of them. Everything her nose caught was consistent with being inside an abandoned warehouse. And of course, there were animal feces. "I don't—"

"C'mon, concentrate," Jacob implored. "Tell me when you notice it."

"We're inside a factory," Leah grumbled with her eyes remaining shut. She didn't know what Jacob wanted her to see, er, smell, or hear. "I doubt anyone's been here for a while..."

It wasn't the answer Jacob wanted. He let out a soft yet frustrated sigh and pressed on, "What else?"

It was then when she noticed it. The smells or something… organic, she supposed. Like belonging to an animal. No, people. She was definitely picking up scents belonging to people. She didn't know how she could tell the difference, but she was positive. "I can pick up..." she stalled, taking another whiff. "I don't know, seven?"

"Fourteen."

Leah opened her eyes and looked at the man beside her, incredulous. "How did you—"

"How many vampires and how many wolves?"

Leah's gaze hardened. They were at a possible crime scene; it wasn't the time to take a test. "This isn't a game, Jacob."

"No, it is not. We're doing detective-work." Jacob took a step closer and asked, voice low and gravelly, "How many?"

Leah cleared her throat. How could one exactly tell the difference between a shapeshifter and a vampire scent, especially if she didn't know the person? Never seen them. Never heard of them.

She breathed in, attempting to differentiate between the seven—no, fourteen—scents. Oh, she saw it now. Thirteen, another extremely faint, closer to the exit. Her nostrils flared as Leah squeezed her eyes even tighter, trying her best to reach Jacob's seven. Seconds passed and nothing. Then she opened her eyes wide. She got it. Seven shapeshifters. The rest vampires. She couldn't explain it, didn't think there was an explanation.

Jacob's face broke into a proud grin.

Leah blinked a couple of times. "But…how?"

"Instinct is a wonderful, but undervalued thing," Jacob explained, then, "Eric was here." He wrinkled his nose and frowned. "I don't recognize any of the vampires, though."

Leah nodded. She supposed that would make sense. If the Volturi had a hand in the killings, they didn't use the usual crew (they were in Moldova). They would have relied on associates left behind; those who had been working under the radar for quite some time. Competent enough to be expected to carry on the Volturi's mission.

She breathed in again, but not for any particular reason. "Gunpowder," she announced. "I'm smelling traces of gunpowder. Faint, but it's here."

"Didn't I tell you something happened around here?"

"There's not much here."

"Where's your faith, Clearwater?"

"We need evidence."

"I know that," Jacob said, walking a few steps ahead of Leah. He checked out his surroundings, slightly frowning, then let out a sigh. "Can't do this like this."

"What are you talking—" Leah dropped her question, raising an eyebrow, taken aback, as she watched Jacob unbutton his shift. After blinking a couple of times, she asked, "What are you… doing?"

"I'm better at this when I'm on all fours. It clears my mind," Jacob explained like it was nothing. He looked down at Leah, who was looking at him, confused. He chuckled at his expression. "C'mon, no one's coming around here. Just follow my lead."

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, not believing what she was hearing. But then again, she supposed she might understand. Like everyone said, being a wolf was simpler than being a person. Wolves rely on instinct. There wasn't any overthinking, overanalyzing. What it saw, smelled, and heard was what it got. But still. "This is crazy."

"Why? It's not like this is the first time," Jacob said, lifting his shoulder in a half shrug. He smirked. "I got this."

Leah dropped her arm and gave her partner a look. From her experience, every time Jacob said he got this, shift generally hit the fan. "What if—"

Jacob wasn't concerned. "Got an extra set in the car," he insisted as he removed his badge from belt and gun holster. "Don't have an extra set of those, though."

Still thinking the man was out of mind, Leah pocketed the badge and phone before placing the extra gun in the waistband of her pants. "Hurry up."

Jacob gave her a lopsided grin. "It'll only take me seconds."

Leah averted her gaze as Jacob stripped down (she didn't think she would ever get used to that for reasons she would most certainly not delve into). Once he was done, she set his clothes aside on a metal, cleaned-enough table. She closed her eyes and when she opened them a second later, Jacob, the wolf, stood before her, nose aimed straight up, deeply breathing in the air.

Holding her breath, Leah stared at him not due to shock (she had been there, done that), but to concern. What if someone popped out of nowhere and caught her partner? What if Jacob accidentally attracted something? She cleared her throat and set Jacob's belongings.

Leah shook her head, eventually relaxed. Jacob could get away this, she assured herself. The factory was hidden behind a row of high trees. No sign of intelligent life (or camera) was within a half a mile radius. And from the sound of it, no one was heading to this area. It was a perfect location to roam around as a wolf.

A perfect location to execute someone.

She should let Jacob do this thing. After all, he was a grown man (wolf). He knew what he was doing (she hoped).

Jacob's eyes roamed around the room until,, with his ears pulled back, he zeroed onto a spot several feet away. He rushed towards it, sniffling the ground along the way as Leah followed close behind. The further they went, the darker it became.

Leah resisted the urge to return to her phone flashlight. She wanted her eyes to adjust to the darkness; she wanted them to get used to it. Her night vision was significantly better than it had been before the bite—sometimes, she forgot about that.

"Where are you leading me to?" Leah asked sometime later as she surveyed her surroundings. Nothing of note stuck out save for some recently-deceased rodents. Her nose flared at the smell of blood and meat; her stomach growled, and she tried her darndest to subdued the urge to chase after it. She was hungry, starving even, but hell would have to freeze over before she consumed rats.

Jacob stopped, bark a couple of times, and darted towards the wall ahead of him. Inches from it, he lowered his nose and began sniffling along to seam connecting the ceiling to the wall.

He must've found something, Leah concluded, finally turning on her flashlight. When she looked up from her phone, she noticed Jacob pawing at the corner of the room, barking loudly. Leah went to his side and bent down, interested to see what had caught the wolf's interest—Look at that, gleaming in between two wooden planks. A bullet casing with minute tracings of ultraviolet. She looked at Jacob and patted his cheek, grinning. "Good boy," she praised, then chuckled at the wolf's bashful expression.

She retrieved an evidence bag from her back pocket, placed the crushed bullet casing inside, and stood up.

If the bullet had some connection to the executions, then the event had to have happened close to where Leah and Jacob were standing. After all, it was determined that the victims had been killed at close-range.

Leah scanned the area until her sights stopped at the wall in front of her. She took a couple of steps closer. Jacob's eyes were on her as she scrutinized the plastered structure. There wasn't much to see, so she carefully smoothed the palms of her hands along the wall, searching for any bumps and dips.

She stopped midway. Swallowing with anticipation, she observed the indentations with her fingertips. The marks weren't pronounced but were consistent with being made by bullets. She didn't know how she could have missed this area.

"Bullets?" she suggested, glancing at Jacob.

Jacob growled.

Nodding, Leah took a step back and gleamed the wall with her phone flashlight. Her eyes widened with awe. There it was. A line of bullet indentations. "They were all shot here," she hypothesized. "Lined up, forced on their knees, facing the wall and shot in succession. One shot. That's all it took." She cleared her throat. "It wasn't a surprise attack."

Jacob barked in agreement.

She took a couple more steps back. "The perps stood here," she said and pointed a finger gun at the wall in front of her. "Bang." She took a couple of steps to the right, lining up with another mark on the wall. "Bang." She continued her actions until she reached the last bullet hole. "Bang." She looked at Jacob. "Firing squad..." She turned her attention to the wall and squinted. "But there's only seven. There were eight bodies found in the ditch."

Of course, this was all a theory.

But Leah was started to believe it.

Growling deep in his throat, the wolf stood up straight on all hours, shoulders squared, eyes darting to the left. His lips drew back in a snarl before Jacob scrambled to another area of interest. As Leah loomed closer, she started to notice the distinct scent of blood. It wasn't considerably small or newly drawn, but it was blood alright.

She looked down at her partner, whose snout was glued to an area about two feet away from the wall adjacent to the wall of execution (as she called it). She patted his head, prompting him to stop. He didn't need to investigate more. she knew what time of blood it was, or wasn't. "Must've belonged to a vampire. Victim Number Eight."

Garrett.

Leah glanced at the wall of execution and nodded, now picturing in her mind what could have happened:

The perps separated the group. The wolves in one area. The vampire in another. Just like how it was supposed to be in nature, Leah supposed. They were probably questioning Garrett, wondering how the hell would he work with dogs. They were going to kill him either way, but maybe Garrett had assumed they would let him off the hook. Why? He probably offered some information.

They killed the wolves first, just to get it out of the way, and then Garrett. A UV right through the temple, but a little farther away. Garrett's temple wound was consistent with a further away shot. A different gun had been used.

My goodness.

Leah quickly dialed her station's main number, and as soon as the dispatcher picked up, "You may want to get some folks here."