Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Start from the top."

No, not now. It was too early for this crap. 7:15 am. She liked Paul; another brother from another mother, a friend, and a great captain, but she was cursing him to Hell right now.

The past week had been the busiest in months, and Leah could already feel the impending headache as she stood towards the center of the crowd. It was Wednesday, the day dedicated to a unit-wide meeting, where everyone had to be present, had to make a comment. Where Paul would call you out on a whim, and you better have an answer.

Leah glanced around the open-office space until her eyes landed on the row of investigative standing boards, neatly lined up for everyone to see. Six, she counted. Six goddamn boards. All for the same goddamn investigation.

Oh, there was the headache.

But she fought through it because Paul was looking at both her and Jacob, expectantly. Packmate or not, Paul didn't tolerate slackers. She exchanged a look with her partner, and they both silently agreed that she would take the lead this time. After taking a sip of her coffee and placed on it on the desk behind her, she sat and gave her captain what he wanted.

"For the past couple of months, Black and myself, Martinez, St. Pierre, Call, and Cameron have been primarily focusing on the Green Lawn Ditch Murders," she informed the crowd. "After further investigation, we have found that the times had links to the Saint Louis-based MC, The Fangs, all of whom were involved in the Midway Heist—"

"Ain't that the Bureau's problem?" one of the cops commented.

"Yes, and the ATF is involved as well due to the missing items being illegal arms, but the killing happened on our turf. Our turf. Our homicide investigation."

"Joint-investigation," Paul corrected.

Leah gave a tight nod. "Of course."

"So, it was retaliation," Paul concluded, rubbing his chin as he paced around the squad area.

"Yes," Leah confirmed, keeping an eye on her captain's every move. "The stolen goods, well, contraband, belonged to the Volturi."

"How many victims?"

"Eight. We have more or less confirmed seven of them. Actually, one was not a member of the Volturi, rather a member of the Denali clan. We have not confirmed this member was involved in the heist or was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Why would a Denali work with the Fangs?"

"Apparently, both groups considered or is still considering forming some sort of an alliance," Jacob answered for Leah. "They were checking out land near Midway. Prime real-estate in the criminal world due to its proximity to the airport."

"Land that used to belong to Victoria," Martinez added. "The Volturi's also looking into that land."

"But it doesn't stop there," Leah said. "We have reasons to believe that Gianna Castellano was also involved in the heist. For a fee, she practically gave the Fangs to the blueprint—location and time."

"Didn't she die like a year ago?" another detective asked.

"Apparently, these international shipments are arranged well in advance," Aisha explained. "She was the secretary. She would have certainly had access to this information."

"Motive?"

"She wanted to be one of the Big Boys," Jacob said with a shrug. "Had grand aspirations. Thought she had with it takes, especially with his crazy-behind lover, Demetri, by her side."

"Well, that's a wonderful motive for murder," someone remarked behind Leah.

Leah nodded. "Sentiments exactly."

"So, Gianna's case is closed?" Paul asked.

He already knew the answer to that question.

Jacob sighed. "I wouldn't say that…"

"We have reasons to believe that Gianna orchestrated the murder of Jessica Stanley," Leah further explained. "Demetri Karlov was also involved in the conspiracy, but to what extent, we're not entirely sure."

"But wait, there's more," Jacob added. "Demetri most likely killed Gianna directly following Jessica's demise. Most likely on orders from the Volturi."

"Most likely, or is that confirmed?"

"Ninety-five percent sure," Leah said. "We have text messages."

Paul stopped and faced Leah. He had a frown on his face. "That's not a hundred percent," he said. "Sure, that's a very likely sequence of events, but we're dealing with the Volturi and their goddamn lawyers. We need ironclad evidence. I'm talking titanium-strength."

Leah cleared her throat. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. She wanted the evidence they had now to be enough, but she knew her captain was right. "Working on it."

"What about the suspects?" Paul asked. "Those responsible for the Green Lawn Murders."

"Working on it," Leah repeated. She wished she had a better answer. "Due to the lack of forensic evidence, we haven't been able to pin all of the murders on one or more people. However, we are looking into the Sancho Alvarez-angle. He's known for staging dramatic scenes. Green Lawn was dramatic. The Dahlia's was dramatic…"

Paul narrowed his eyes. "Are you insinuating that Sancho was also involved in the Jessica Stanley's murder? Demetri delivered the killer bite. We have video evidence of that."

"Yes, but that video doesn't show the Dahlia's mutilation," Embry pointed out.

"Thought Sancho was in Mexico?" someone asked from the edge of the crowd. Many others vocalized the same belief.

"Allegedly," Martinez said.

Paul wasn't too pleased with the answer. Or maybe his grumble was purely out of frustration. Nothing in this investigation was easy. "Allegedly," he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and faced everyone. "Find that sonuvabitch. I don't care how, but find him so we can finally put something to bed for once in our goddamn lives."

Sometime later, Paul stopped by Leah's desk while Jacob was on a bathroom break. He appeared more on edge, she supposed, than usual, but that probably had everything to do with the phone call he had just had with his immediate supervisor. The brass could be a pain in the ass sometimes, especially the politically-aspired ones. "We're doing this tonight?"

Leah looked up at her boss and nodded. "Nothing's changed," she said, returning her attention to her computer screen as she typed up the last words of her latest report. She turned closed everything out and swiveled in her chair until she faced Paul. "Same place. Same time… What did the boss say?"

Paul let out an exasperated sigh. "What the hell do you think?"

Leah nodded once more. Yeah, so the conversation turned out exactly how she had expected. At least, no one was pulling the plug; small victories. "We'll find him, Captain," she vowed. "Many people know or at least, have heard of Sancho. He can't hide from us forever."

"Are you positive that this is a good idea?"

Leah was almost hurt by Aisha's doubts although she had to admit that they were valid. The decision to visit the federal prison was a last-minute one, but something was telling her that she had made the right decision.

She locked the unmarked car, and along with Aisha, headed to the visitor's entrance. "You heard what the boss said yesterday: he doesn't care how we do it, just find Sancho Alvarez."

"By working with the enemy," Aisha remarked, flashing one of the guards her badge before walking through the metal detectors.

Leah followed suit. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," she said. "Or at least, a source of knowledge." When Aisha gave her a skeptical look, she insisted that "We're going to ask, and then move along."

"What if she's never heard of the man?"

Leah wasn't too worried. "Given her former line of work, I find that hard to believe," she said before thanking the guards for her belongings and surrendering her service weapon.

Nothing else was said as the pair headed to the receptionist's desk.

"Good morning," Leah later greeted the woman sitting behind the bullet-proof window. "I'm Detective Leah Clearwater from CPD along with Detective Aisha St. Pierre. We have a three o'clock appointment with Sonja Helena DuPont."

"I don't think this is going to work," Aisha whispered into her friend's ear as they waited for their escort to lead them to one of the interview rooms. "Knowing her, she'd want a big incentive." She snorted. "It's not like Barba's gonna fight for a shorter sentence."

Oh, the federal prosecutor definitely was not. Hence why Leah had decided to go with plan B. She lifted the tumbler high and smirked. "We have all of the incentives we need. Have some faith in me."

Aisha eyed the container, still skeptical, but eventually relented. "Fine."

"I have to admit, I was not expecting to see the both of you," Heidi said as she watched the guard led Leah and Aisha into the interview room. The socialite was sitting at the metal table with both ankles and wrists chained the bolted-down chair. "Nor am I glad, but I suppose I don't have any choice."

"I have to admit, I was not expecting to see the both of you," Heidi said as she watched the guard led Leah and Aisha into the interview room. The socialite was sitting at the metal table with both ankles and wrists chained the bolted-down chair. "Nor am I glad, but I suppose I don't have any choice."

"You're under the custody of the federal government, Mrs. DuPont," Leah told the woman as she and Aisha sat down. "So, no, you don't."

Heidi let out a sigh. She wasn't her usual defiant self; spending all this time in prison must've terribly worn her down. "What the hell do you want?"

Leah fought a smile. Yes, that the Heidi she remembered. "Sancho Alvarez."

Heidi didn't even have to say anything. Her eyes and her frown had said it all. She had heard of the man, just as Leah had expected. The prisoner didn't respond immediately, probably trying to gather the right words that wouldn't incriminate her even more. Not that it would help her fate; she was condemned for life.

"Hadn't heard that name in a while… I hear he's in Mexico."

Heidi shrugged. "Rumor has it."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

Heidi rolled her eyes at Leah's observation. "How would I know where's he been lately?" she grumbled as she threw up her hands. "As you can see, I'm stuck here."

If the disgraced socialite expected to receive any pity from the detectives, she was sadly mistaken.

"When do you head out west?" Aisha asked.

"If you must know, next month," Heidi replied, understandably not too happy about her fate. She then finally noticed the large bottle next to Leah and snorted. "Oh, come on, do you think you were going to entice me with blood? Seriously? I'll have you know that the guards' been supplying me with ample amounts. Something about the laws against cruel and unusual punishment?"

Leah smirked. It was about time Heidi noticed the blood. "I hear it's synthetic," she said. "What we have here is human."

Heidi was pleasantly surprised and then skeptical. "I thought human blood was illegal?"

"We're the law. We can bend the rules a bit to make things happen," Leah returned with a nonchalant shrug. She obviously wasn't going to divulge how she and Aisha pulled it off… it was within the legal gray area, but Paul knew about It. The Office of the Medical Examiner knew about it. Jenks unofficially did as well. "So?"

"Hernán Lozada Portillo," Heidi said, holding her head up high. "You should ask your friend federal agent friends about that name, considering that they've confiscated all of my business documents."

Leah and Aisha shared a glance before Aisha vowed, "We will."

"You know it goes around here—money talks. Money makes you turn the other cheek. No matter how you are. Fugitive or not."

"So, he's been in this country," Leah said, jotting down Heidi's words. She looked up. "Portillo... an alias?"

Heidi tensed in her seat with her eyes still locked on the container of blood. She licked her lips. "With accurate social security number and everything," she breathed, licking her lips. Her eyes flashed red, but thankfully, her limbs were secured enough to the bolted chair that the detectives and the guard didn't have to worry about Heidi breaking free.

Leah glanced at the bargaining chip and fought hard to suppress her smirk. Obviously, it had been a long time since Heidi had last been adequately fed.

Aisha folded her hands on the desk and leaned forward, eyeing the woman across from her through narrowed eyes. She thought Heidi was playing her for a fool; Leah didn't blame her for thinking so, but her friend had seemed to have forgotten the power of human blood. "How do you know this?"

Heidi took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. Her eyes returned to solid amber. "My business was lucrative. I offered something that many people cannot: anonymity," she said, completely in control of herself and her cravings. "But it is always a good idea to keep a profile on your biggest clients. He liked Russians, so I offered him Russians."

Aisha leaned back against her seat and frowned.

Leah didn't know if she wanted to gag or strangle the woman. The way Heidi had said it… so flippantly without any remorse for what she had put her "employees" through. Thankfully, Aisha took over the questioning, "To fuck or to feed?"

The other detective grimaced.

Heidi gave Aisha a sharp look and clenched her fists. Seconds passed, and she relaxed. "Does it honestly matter in the end?" she replied. She then quickly faced the guard. "I am ready to return to my cell," she declared, effectively ending the conversation. "So, about my gift...?"

Leah figured she had gotten enough valuable information from the prisoner. She slid the bottle in Heidi's direction. "I suppose you deserve it," she said, not bothering to hide her disdain. She watched as Heidi put her nose to the top of the container and breathed in the faint bloody aroma. "And your fate. I hope you have a horrible time at Alcatraz. After the shit you pulled, you deserve it."

Heidi sharply looked up. Her glare was harsh, but she didn't say a word.

"But why the landfill?" Jacob mused the following morning as he studied the Green Lawn crime scene photos. For the umpteenth time. "They could've packed her into a garbage bag and dump her in the hotel's dumpster. That place had several of them. Why go through all this effort of hiring a so-called disposal company that's affiliated with someone you're not the best friends with and disposed of her like twenty miles away?"

Leah glanced up from her copy of Gianna's file and shrugged. "Sancho, or rather, Hernán Lozada Portillo, is one creative guy?"

Heidi's intel was currently being reviewed by the Voldemort Unit and the feds. So far, they had gotten multiple hits, including numerous border crossings from Mexico and Canada. Border Control was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Especially since the man was still on the run.

"He only did what he's told…" Jacob pointed out. "And why a ditch inside an abandoned lot at Green Lawn? What is the significance? Is it the proximity to the airport? I mean, yeah, it's ten minutes away, but the lot ain't Midway property. Why move the bodies from an abandoned warehouse fifteen away to there? Out in the open?"

Leah turned the page. "Bella confirmed that the victims' bodies were… dissolved into bones at the site," she said, closing the file. Gianna could wait. "Forensics found traces of the chemical used. But no new DNA evidence. How's that possible? I have no idea."

Jacob slowly nodded. "But only bones? Why not go all the way?" The moment he finished his question, he gasped, slapped his forehead, and leaped out of his seat. "I'm a fucking idiot."

Leah blinked, puzzled. "Jacob—"

"I'm a goddamn, motherfucking idiot," Jacob grumbled as he grabbed a notepad and a pen. "I'll be back. If you need anything, reach me on the phone." He turned around and called out, "Martinez, we gotta go!"

Leah still had no idea what was going on. "You don't want me to come with?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, that'd make things more complicated," he quickly replied. He snatched his keys from his desk. "It's not you. I swear, it's not you, but…" He sighed. "It's complicated." He looked in Martinez's direction and frowned. "Yo, Martinez, speed it up!"

"Hold your fucking horses, Black!" The detective shouted from his desk. He was trying to finish a pastry and a can of pop as quickly as he could. With his mouth full, he picked up his belongings from his desk. "Can I get my shit, first?"

Eventually, Martinez got his "shit" together, and both men rushed out of the station, almost knocking down a couple of people and garbage cans along the way. As Leah stared into the entrance, bewildered beyond belief, she was approached by Aisha, who had witnessed the entire scene.

"What was that about?" Aisha asked when she reached her friend's desk.

Leah blinked and looked up at her friend. She shook her head. "I have no idea."

Jacob and Martinez would eventually return to the station.

Leah didn't bother looking up from her phone when Jacob came around, dropped a bag on his desk, and sat on the edge of the table. "Thank you finally gracing me with your presence," she said in a flat voice. She wasn't fooling anyone. She was still a bit peeved from earlier.

But could anyone blame her? Radio silence for three hours. Three hours. He and Martinez could've been in a ditch off the Dan Ryan, and she wouldn't have known until the dispatcher requested backup.

Jacob sighed as he dug into the plastic bag and handed Leah a bundle of beef jerky (her newly-founded guilty pleasure). Perhaps as a peace-offering of some sort. "It wasn't personal," he maintained. "I promise."

Leah frowned— What the hell was that supposed to mean? Wordlessly, she took the jerky and placed them aside. She was going to grill her partner more, which had been her intentions until Martinez made an appearance. Instead, she opened one of a pack of the snack and swiveled in her chair so that she was facing both men. She took a bite out of the jerky before asking, "Who did you see?"

The question was more directed at Jacob, and he was the one who responded first. "My cousin."

"His cousin," Martinez confirmed. He put on an amused smile but dropped it when he caught sight of Leah's less than amused expression. "Collin."

"I know," Leah said. "And I couldn't tag along?" She gave Jacob a sharp look. "I've met the man, you know."

At least, Jacob looked somewhat apologetic. "I know, but I didn't want you to be a distraction."

Leah took another bite of her snack. "Now, why would I be…" She stopped, blinked, and then frowned. There was something about Jacob's expression that unnerved her. "You said it wasn't a big deal."

Jacob ran a hand down his face. "It's not—"

Martinez loudly cleared his throat. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but let's save the arguments for couple counseling, yeah?" he said. It was clearly meant as a joke. Or maybe it wasn't. He put up a hand when Jacob opened his mouth. "I don't wanna know."

Leah and Jacob shared a look, and both silently agreed to drop the matter altogether.

After tossing aside the plastic jerky wrapper, Leah leaned back against her seat with her arms crossed. "Well, did you two get anything out of your little incursion?"

Jacob dropped his arms and his exasperated expression. He was quickly back to his old self. "The location of the bones was what bothered me," he said without providing context or an answer to Leah's question. "Why there, of all places? Why not the warehouse?" He shrugged. "If we're sticking to the Velasquez-hitmen angle, then that place had to have some significance, right?"

Leah slowly nodded. "Make sense."

Martinez nodded as well before adding, "The Velasquez, when they're given a job, don't like to be told how to execute it. They'll get it done but on their terms. I'm sure the Volturi knows that… They were giving free-reign when it came to the robbers, just as long as they died… This area, Green Lawn, used to be controlled by the Velasquez until James and his crew rolled in."

"And now it's unclaimed," Jacob said. "Sort of."

Leah blinked. She was felt like she was missing something. "What the hell does this have to do with Fangs?"

"The Fangs want that area because of its proximity to Midway," Jacob explained. "By roaming around there, with Garrett, the underground real-estate agent, apparently, they were sending a message that Green Lawn was still there's. Technically. Come Hell or high water."

"So, they had double-motives to kill those guys?"

"Knock off the competition while getting still paid." Martinez shrugged. "Hell, why not?"

Leah massaged her temples. "My head fucking hurts already," she complained. After a couple of deep breaths, she asked, "So, why did you see Collin?"

"To confirm my suspicions," Jacob said. "That the bastard saw it all coming."

Leah drew in a sharp breath. Her gaze shifted from one man to the detective; they both wore grave expressions. Fuck. "He pulled an Esme?" she asked, voice cracking. "Are you telling me that Collin had set them all up? That he got his own cousin killed?"

"It's a cold, cold world," Martinez mused, shaking his head. "That's why business and family shouldn't mix."

"That's for damn sure," Jacob hotly remarked.

"What the fuck did they do to him?" Leah wondered. "He was playing the long game for the past year?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, I think the game started the moment he found out that Eric was messing around with Alicia Rivera, and starting spewing about how he should be in charge. The others, the ones who agreed to participate in this heist, thought so, too."

Martinez then added, "Eric, he had a thing for Alicia. Trusted her. Enough."

Leah had to give it to Collin. If that was really what had happened, then he was one devious sonuvabitch. He had gotten rid of the insurrection problem without even getting involved.

"So, word got back to the Volturi," Leah deduced. "Alicia opened her mouth… why snitched on her?"

"Sean," Jacob said. "He works at the same airport."

Leah slapped her forehead. "Well, fuck me."

"Of course, this is all Collin's account," Jacob added. "Family or not, he can't exactly be entirely trusted. However, he doesn't have much of an incentive to lie. Technically, he hasn't done anything wrong. Can't arrest him for shit. At least, in this case. So, no plea bargain."

"No one has a case on him?" Leah found that hard to believe. Everyone knew about Colin and the Fangs. "I mean, the heist. That's big."

"He wasn't involved," Martinez argued. "At least, not enough to get targeted. Everything was on Eric. Everyone's saying that, not just Colin."

"At least, he's smart."

"Runs in the family," Martinez joked, nudging Jacob with an elbow. "Anyway, he's Saint Louis's problem."

Leah wished it were that easy. The Fangs weren't only active in that city in Missouri; her and Jacob's recent run-in with Collin proved as such. "When is this lady coming back?" she asked because damn, for a woman who was being sought after by multiple law enforcement agencies, getting her to sit down to talk was a pain in the ass. And it wasn't like she was on the run. Presumably.

"Feds will be meeting her at O'Hare when she returns on Saturday. They believe it's better to wait," Jacob said. "I wouldn't worry about it, though. I'm sure they're just as curious as we are to how she's still alive."

"What about her cousin?"

Martinez stood up. "If she plays her cards right, we may get something new on Sanchez Alvarez, too."

Leah could only hope.

"One would think that after Maria's deportation that the Velasquez would calm the hell down for a bit," Aisha remarked, shaking her head. She and Embry had just received the news from Jacob, Leah, and Martinez about the cartel's shenanigans. "But common sense is not common."

"The offer was too good to pass up," Martinez said. He turned to Leah. "Any word on how many there were paid?"

Leah nodded. "My source claimed it would've been around two-fifty large plus bonuses," she said. Admittedly, Jane had been out of the loop when it came to the details for the GLD murders; her estimate was just that. "A little under three grand a person."

"And the bonuses?"

"The land?" Jacob provided. "They want that territory bad."

Embry crossed his arms and rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "If the cartel wants that territory, and the Fangs, who may or may not be conspiring with the Olympic, want that same territory…" he trailed off and gulped. "My God, this is about to be yet another turf war. Why would the Volturi want to be involved in that?"

Leah, Jacob, and Martinez all gave a solemn nod.

"Control," Aisha offered. "I mean, it's one of the oldest tricks in the book. Countries and empires, they do it all the time—be an instigator in someone's else conflict, give them money, weapons, intelligence, and sit back and wait. When the war's over, and their side wins, that same country can and will say to the winning side: you owe me."

"Volturi gets influence over the cartel," Jacob added. "They get control over the arms and blood markets."

Aisha agreed. "They're basically playing chess."

Jared shook his head. "But, wait, wait, wait… The Velasquez is loyal to the Olympic."

"To an extent," Leah argued. "This is business; we're talking about. You have to remember: the only reason why Maria is so-called friendly with the Olympic in the first place is because of one Jasper Hale, who's currently locked in Arizona."

"He's no longer there to talk up a good game for the Olympic," Jacob remarked. "How tragic."

"If the Volturi gets it their way, the Velasquez merges into their coven," Martinez said. "Can you imagine how powerful they'll become?"

"If that happens, the Olympic is fucked," Jacob stated the obvious. "Royally fucked."

"Especially with the Denalis being disgruntled," Aisha followed. "That's never good."

"We got to do something about the Velasquez. Hit them where it hurts," Martinez declared. "They killed eight people on our turf."

Embry threw up his hands. "What do you think we are, the fucking DEA? The ATF?" He shook his head. "We don't have the capability to bring down a cartel based in another country."

"What we need to do is get to the Volturi before they get to the Velasquez," Leah revised for Martinez.

"And how the hell do we do that? They're chilling across the goddamn Atlantic—"

"We lure back to the Land of the Free," Paul calmly interjected, startling everyone with his presence. "They're not giving up on this country. If they were, they would've cut all ties. Not have to worry about what's happening here. But they're still here. They still have associates around. This country has something Moldova and Volterra do not."

"You made it."

Leah turned around and grinned at the sight of Jacob, standing at away, down the hall, waving above the heads of several people, all focused on the large sculpture in front of them. She lifted her complimentary flute of champagne, politely excused herself from a light conversation with a couple of guests before heading in her friend's direction.

Of course, she made it. Barring any drastic occurrences, she had no intention of missing the Friday evening showing of Rebecca's (and friends') art at the Logan Square art gallery. She'd never hear the end of it.

"Had no choice," Leah told Jacob when she reached his side. "For the past week, your sister's been sending me various barely-veiled threats, so…" she trailed off, chuckling along with Jacob. After taking a sip of her drink, she scanned the large open space once more. The vibe was pleasant. Not too laid back, not too stuffy. And from the looks of it, more people were trickling in. "This is nice."

Jacob was as proud as a brother could be. "Yeah, I'm happy for her." "Someone already brought one of her paintings. You should've seen her… I thought she was about to bring out the waterworks."

Leah smiled. She was thrilled for Rebecca, who had been working her behind off on this gallery opening for a couple of years now, and finally, everything was coming into fruition.

She glanced behind her to where Rebecca was standing, surrounded by a small crowd, who was genuinely interested in her inspiration for the painting. For a brief moment, they locked eyes and waved.

"Your sister has a talent that I would never possess," she said, adding a self-deprecating scoff. "And trust me, I've tried. Had to take a painting class in college. Didn't end well."

Jacob snorted, and then grimaced. "Oh shit, I think I have to an art class, too. Something about Gen Ed?" He slapped his forehead. "Damn it."

Leah was glad she wasn't the only one who was artistically-challenged. "I know the feeling. Wait—" She cocked an eyebrow. "You're going back to school?"

Jacob nodded. "On the department's dime. Well, partially." He shrugged. "Hey, why not?"

"Night classes?"

"I'm afraid so. Can't do online. I have no self-I'll end up playing Call of Duty or binge-watch the entire Office series. Again."

"Don't feel bad. It's a good show."

"Yeah, something tells me that I can't use that as a justification for not doing work."

"Starting in the fall?"

Jacob nodded.

"That's good." Leah finished off the champagne, placed it aside, and then cheekily added, "Try not to fail the art class."

Jacob flashed a wide smile. "I'll try not to disappoint." He then jerked his head to the left. "C'mon. Let me show you around."

The pair eventually stopped at a large painting, signed by Rebecca, that depicted goodness-knows-what. The painting was titled "Majestic". It was majestic, aright. Colors, and lines, and shapes were everywhere. But somehow it made sense?

Leah blinked a couple of times and looked at Jacob, who appeared to be just as puzzled as she was (then again, none of them were experts). "I don't want to sound…" she stalled, waving her hand around as if doing so would formulate the right words. In the end, she just asked straight out, "Was she high when she did this? I mean, no judgment. It's fucking cool, but… one gotta be under the influence to do something like this, right?"

Jacob tilted his head and squinted. "She might've dabbled in some ol' fashioned mary-jane from time to time." He tilted his head in the other direction. "Yeah, this definitely looks like it was purple haze-inspired."

"So, it's not just me."

"No, it's not."

The duo fell into a comfortable silence, both studying Rebecca's piece. From a couple of feet away, Leah could pick up others talking about it, being interested in it, calling it a masterpiece. It made her smile, and she made a mental note to mention the conversation to Rebecca when guests and interested buyers weren't hounding her.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry about earlier."

Leah glanced up at Jacob, taken aback, and then she wasn't. She gave him a small, reassuring smile. "You don't have to apologize," she said with sincerity. To be honest, she had completely forgotten the incident. "I just want to make sure you didn't end up dead somewhere."

"Yeah, that was my bad," Jacob mumbled, refusing to meet his friend's gaze. He was apologetic, probably more than he needed to be. "In my defense, we weren't allowed to bring any devices into the office."

Leah gave a half-shrug. She supposed that was understandable. Wires and recording devices tended to scare people into not giving one what they needed. "Hold up. He does an office in the city?"

She certainly hoped he didn't because if Colin did, then the Fangs were officially CPD's problem and not just because of the GLD murders—With all due respect, the Voldemort Unit had enough to deal with.

Jacob shook his head and then led Leah to the next art piece. This one was a clay-version of a Progressive tomato soup can, called "Andy Warhol-inspired". Already purchased. Leah appreciated the detailing.

"So, what was that about?"

Jacob swallowed. "I didn't want him to start asking nonrelevant questions."

Leah gave a curt nod. Questions about her, she supposed. Of course. She narrowed her eyes. "Is this going to be a problem?" Because if it was, she needed to know now. Or a month ago. "Is this thing going to affect or work?"

Jacob shook his head. "No, no, no, it's not," he insisted, vehemently as if the entire idea was ridiculous. Perhaps in his mind, it was a one-time thing because he was dealing with his cousin, a man who knew it well enough to screw him over where it truly hurt. "No."

Leah sighed and searched for the nearest waiter with a tray of champagne. Not that the sparkling drink would affect her in any way; it was WB-free. She eventually found one, thanked the woman, and downed about half of the flute.

Was there a mate-bond-whatever seminar they could attend? Because both she and Jacob were still out of the loop (which was pretty frustrating for many reasons, including the fact that this wasn't goddamn rocket science). She certainly wasn't going to ask the rest of the best because that would only be asking for trouble? Maybe she'd reach out to Tina. Or Kim.

Or Google.

She ended up finishing all of the champagne. "No?"

"No."

Leah cleared her throat and nodded. There was nothing on Jacob's face or voice that indicated that he was lying to her. Or himself. That was good. That was progress, and they could move the fuck on. "Okay, then." She forced a smile. "It's over. Just… keep me posted when you run out like that. Yeah?"

"Yeah, that was my bad." Jacob scratched the back of his neck and breathed a sigh of relief. "We're good?"

Leah's smile might have been slight, but it was no longer forced. "As always—Oh, look at that!" She then took Jacob's hand and dragged him towards a medium-sized landscape painting of presumably the Pacific Northwest. "I want that over the fireplace," she declared, pointing at her next purchase. "You know what I'm talking about, right? I need this to replace that horrible dog painting my mom picked up from a garage sale."

It was indeed an oil painting on canvas of the Pacific Northwest. It would look perfect with the color scheme of Sue's living room (Aisha would be so proud in Leah's attempt at interior decorating).

Jacob took a step forward and glanced behind him. "Don't us fellow canines horrible," he said with exaggerated affront.

Leah snorted. "I'm sorry, oh dear Alpha…So?"

"I think your mom has an emotional connection to that piece of work, so it convincing her to switch may not be easy. I hope you'll have a plan."

Leah nodded. "I'm working on it." She gazed up at the painting; she imagined she had "hearts" in her eyes. "It's really nice. And reasonably priced. I'll just say it's from your sister to make her feel bad."

"You're gonna guilt-trip Sue?" Jacob shook his head, chuckling. "Isn't that supposed to work the other way around?"

Leah's wave was dismissive. "I got this," she insisted. "So, what do you think?"

"Buy it," Jacob suggested without any doubt in his voice. "Rebecca will love you forever."

"Like she doesn't already," "No, seriously. I'm gonna get this. That's the beauty of living with other people. I have some extra cash laying around."

"Roommates can be a blessing," Jacob remarked. "Want me to call someone over?"

Leah nodded, rubbing her hands together. Even if Sue pitched a fit, Leah could hang in inside her bedroom. Sure, it'd make the room even more cluttered than it already was (it wasn't the biggest room), but she didn't care. "Thanks."

Jacob grinned. "No problem."

The person in question was currently working with another guest, so Leah and Jacob decided to stay put (or stay guard, Jacob had joked). The exhibition was still lively, even more than an hour in. Although not as crowded. That worked out wonderfully; it had been too many people with too many different scents (and hygiene levels).

"Hey, have fun tomorrow," Leah told Jacob, seemingly out of the blue as she took a couple of au d' oeuvres for herself and him. She thanked the waiter and handed one of the treats to the man next to her. "Hope everything works out with your plus one. And for the love of everything holy, don't get involved in a card game."

A look of bewilderment crossed Jacob's face. "Card game at a wedding?"

Leah shrugged. "A lot of things can happen during a reception or at the after-party," she pointed out. "Look, I don't want you to embarrass yourself, lose any cool points you may have left, and poof! There go your chances of scoring another date or otherwise. Remember: be charming, and somehow take off your shift without making it awkward, and I'll sure you'll be able to pull it off—Hey, don't give me that look."

Jacob then burst into laughter, almost causing himself to choke on the fancy version of a hamburger slider. He was still laughing as Leah slapped his back a couple of times, so he didn't suffocate on her.

"Laughing at me?" Leah accused, adding a dramatic gasp. "I can't believe you. I'm trying to make sure your terrible UNO skills don't prevent you from getting laid."

After all, she had a bet to win.

Though, if she were honest with herself, which, admittedly, under these circumstances, she often wasn't, she would've been perfectly fine with losing money.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for bearing with me and my more-than-a-month-long updates and for the support. I fully intend to finish this story, but due to life being life, the updates won't be as frequent as in the past... but they will happen.

Also, as always, please stay safe!