Carver knew something had happened when Mal and Everett walked up. Something other than the sex they'd just had and tried to wash away. Everett looked resigned while Mal was a ball of nerves. They didn't look like they had relaxed in the least bit.
Everett walked over to his general manager. He was covered in blood as the police tried to calm him down. When he saw his boss, he jumped up and threw his arms around him. Everett murmured to him as the young man started shaking. A sob left the kid- he was barely twenty-three- as he spoke through snot and tears.
As the human talked to his employee, Carver looked at his partner. Usually the full moon and copious amounts of sex left a wolf very vital. Mal looked worn out. He'd changed once after Club Tails was attacked so he'd had a youthful color. Now, he looked almost haggard. That wasn't from a romp in the streets. Something else happened.
Everett left the manager and came back to them. Carver took the chance to get a good smell of the blood on his shirt. It was filled with magic and dirt. Someone else had done these murders, but he did smell the two lone wolves from the first two cases.
"John says he was in the office when he heard a noise. I'd just had that door oiled so no one heard him slip out. He recognized the first two as our lone wolves, but there was a third one. John's an art student so he'll work with a sketch artist to get us better features," he said.
"That's what my nose tells me," Carver confirmed. Mal nodded his head as well.
"Do you hace an extra shirt to change into?"
Everett nodded. "I keep extra clothes everywhere. I jump between the three clubs regularly, sometimes sleeping in the office. I also have CCTV set up all over the place."
"Well, let's get in your office to get your computer." Carver stopped Mal when Everett turned to the building. "You're not going. Stay out here and find more evidence and witnesses."
Mal didn't argue, just turned on his heel and walked away. His partner watched him with concern. This wasn't like him, but something had happened to make him act like a zombie.
Everett waited on him to go inside. Carver held the door open and the owner slipped in. The detective followed him quietly, keeping an eye on the quietness and the darkness. It was too quiet. Not even the lights flickered and the electrical lines didn't hum. Old buildings like this always had humming electrical lines. Everett would have the money to replace the outlets, but he would hold off on having the electrical completely redone. Not because of the expense but because of the time frame needed to redo it.
Mordu's was the equivalent of a biker bar. It was locked on the seedier side of town, and it was Everett's most lucrative business. Most people who showed up just wanted a beer and good game of pool. Everett had his liquor license, and he served a three drink minimum to ensure drunkenness didn't encroach on his business.
Everett's office was on the far side of the building. It had a drop off to the river so if anyone wanted to break in they'd have to be knowledgeable in scuba diving. The river was four feet deep at the bank but made a severe drop as the eddies started.
The owner hadn't been kidding. He'd oiled all his doors so none of them made a sound. John could have seen the murders and no one would have known he was there unless they used their senses. These people were really making useless trouble.
Everett pulled off his shirt and handed it to Carver. If he liked men, the human would be his type. He was thick in the shoulders with an equally wide chest. A rolling six pack tucked into slip hips that were wrapped in denim. He was a human god by pop culture standards.
He turned around to reach for a new shirt, and Carver saw a mark on his back. For a man in a relationship with a werewolf, it wasn't uncommon for the wolf to sometimes get out of hand and leave marks. However this mark was completely different. It was angry and red and larder than the maw of a changed wolf.
"It's a burn from my accident," Everett said. He'd felt Carver staring as he'd rummaged for a shirt. "It looks worse than it is."
"Do you remember it?" Carver asked.
"I remember waking up in the rain. The car I'd been in was on fire, and the other occupants were dead. Then I was in the hospital. That's really about it." He stopped and turned around, quirking up an amused eyebrow. "If you're so curious abot it, just find the files and look at them. It won't hurt my feelings."
"Not your feelings of fear and panic, but your anger is quite palpable."
Everett sat at his desk and logged on to his computer. He looked at ease despite his businesses being targeted. Carver watched him closely, scenting everything as he walked the small space.
No one but Everett and John had been in here. So once again they weren't after whatever the owner had sealed in the safe. It made Everett being their target sound a lot more probable. But what was it about a normal human that made them want to get to him?
Carver did a slow turn of the office. His eyes landed on a dark backpack, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He walked over and picked it up, weighing it gently in his hands. He opened it and laughed out loud when he saw eight wallets and three phones.
"Everett Coombs, do I need to arrest you for theft?" he asked. He was joking to lighten the mood.
Everett looked up and a sheepish smile spread across his face. "I lifted those several weeks ago. I just forgot to give them to Mal."
"Consider it done." The detective slid the strap over his shoulder as the human pulled the flashdrive from his tower. "Do you want to see if you know the victims? To see if they're regulars?"
They left the office, Everett taking time to close it up. Carver let the owner lead the way through the building once again. It gave him time to realize why Mal was a mess.
Something about Everett was way off. Maybe after two murders he was already desensitized, but three days shouldn't make it that easy.
Carver had served in WWII. He understood shutting off emotions to do what the job required. He'd done things he still didn't talk about over seventy-five years later, and he'd seen things he'd rather not see again. So he knew what repetitive traumas could do, but this was far from a repetitive trauma. This was something else, something deeper.
Uniforms had the entrance cordoned off and were taking pictures of the building and the bodies. This time they were splayed out in a T pattern. Fingertip to fingertip, they lay face down with their toes pointed. It looked as if they were semi-crucified.
"Does this fit your Roman numeral theory?" Carver asked.
"No, but there are three and the Romans were notorious for crucifixion," Everett said. He squatted down and looked at them with a strange look on his face. "They were doused in Fireball whiskey."
"Why?" The bar owner tapped his nose. "So cinnamon covers the scent. Scent of what though. I already know there were three people who committed this one."
Everett looked up. "Three, but there were only two last time."
"Unless their scent was marked clean by magic."
The detective stepped away to smell the shirt again. And clear as day was magic, earth magic at that. Someone covered the crime scenes in magic. There were three murderers, two wolves and one who could use magic.
"Carver, I don't think the Roman numerals have anything to do with this," Everett called.
The bar owner wore a pair of gloves and was lifting the hair of the only female victim. His face was drawn, pensive as he sighed.
"I know this one," he said. He dropped his head to his chest. "Her name is Elizabeth Duncan. She worked for me two years ago."
Carver came over to him, squatting down next to him to get a good look. "Do you know where she's been?"
"Last I heard she was in law school at Stanford. All the way across the country. Now she could be in town for a break or something, but I haven't seen her since she left."
"Now they are starting to target people close to you."
Everett shook his head. "Why target me? I don't have anything but my games and businesses. You took my fun job away so now I'm stuck with these."
Carver smiled. He was being cheeky to hide his worry, but the werewolf detective could smell it anyway. "We won't know anything unless someone says something. In the meantime, let's find Danvers and head to the station."
Grudgingly, he got the owner to leave the bar. He handed off the shirt to CSU and walked Everett to Mal. He was waiting against the car, his face drawn. He knew something was going on, but there was more going on in his head than he was saying.
"What'd you find?" he asked. Carver didn't miss that he didn't touch Everett when he came to stand by him.
He watched his partner look at his lover, concern flashing across his face. But he didn't say anything. It was unusual for Mal to have no reaction to Everett's predicament.
The car ride to the precinct was quiet. Mal didn't say much and Everett was busy looking through his employee files to find the next of kin. They didn't really talk with each other which was very, very unusual. Mal always needed to know what was going on with his partner, but his silence said much more.
However, after last night's excursion, Mal was beginning to think whatever happened back in New Port was a direct link to what was happening now. And whatever that was, had to do with the mark on Everett's back. He had noticed it before, but Everett said it was a burn. He'd been inclined to believe him. Until earlier.
When they'd finished with their fun, Mal had noticed something he'd never seen before. Everett's eyes had glowed red as they were coming down from their highs. That had never, ever happened before. Mal would have noticed immediately. It was something that was hard to miss.
"Why are you so quiet?" Everett asked. Mal glanced at him then looked back at the road. The other man was watching him intently. "Mal, what is it?"
"I'm just not sure I didn't hurt you," he said. He turned left at the next light. "I was pretty rough."
Everett snorted. "You're always rough. It's why I keep begging for more."
"Ev, if I ever do too much, I run the risk of changing you. I don't want to do that. You don't want to be like me."
"How do you know?" Mal parked the car and looked at him. The other man was looking out the window with his chin propped in his hand.
"Do you know why I don't want to go back to New Port? I don't want to know, see, meet, or think about what I left. I don't want to be pitied. Or a charity case. Everyone thought that about me after the accident."
He sighed and leaned his head back. "I like being with you because you never treated me like that. I'm not a charity case who you talk about. So whatever happens or whoever comes after me, I don't care about where it's all from. That's thirteen years ago. I'm here right now."
Mal reached over and took his hand. He laced their fingers, tightening them together. Everett looked at it, eyes focused on one tan hand and one pale one.
"I know you saw my eyes," he whispered. "I've noticed it too. It only happens when something deeply emotional happens, but I don't know what it means."
"You could figure it out by talking to someone in New Port," he reminded.
Everett shook his head. "No, it wouldn't make a difference. I don't want to know what happened that night."
"All right. I'll drop it. Unless this case leads back to New Port, I won't bring it up again."
To his surprise, Everett leaned over and kissed him. He usually kept anything affectionate between the two of them, not wanting to share anything with anyone else. But now, he didn't care. He'd been stressed, and Mal was his best stress reliever.
He propped his forehead against his and exhaled shakily. Mal realized he was more than stressed. He was scared. He wasn't sure who was coming after him, but Mal knew enough to know he wasn't scared about himself. Everett was scared for Mal.
"You're going to need to talk to your other manager just in case, and get me a list of your employees," Mal whispered.
"I pulled it from both computers. I'll be able to print them off once we get inside," he replied.
They broke away and got out of the car. They didn't say anything as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor, but Mal knew what was going through his head. Everett wouldn't be able to relax now that his second business had been hit. Until this case was solved, he couldn't open them up. He was going to lose money.
Everett stepped off the elevator and went straight to the break room. Mal went to his desk to update his paperwork. He cast glances to the human every so often. He was probably running background checks on all his employees. Mal really needed to figure out how to limit his access to the internet, but knowing Everett he would find another way to do it. Something even more illegal probably.
"Is everything all right?" Mal turned to Carver. The other detective handed him a coffee since they would have a long night. "You were tense back at the crime scene."
"Something happened at home. I didn't want to say it out loud and embarrass Everett. We talked about it on the way back. As of right now, we're okay," Mal replied.
"Did it have anything to do with the red eyes?" His partner swiveled around so fast Carver knew the answer. "It was a brief moment when he was identifying the woman at the crime scene."
"So I wasn't imagining things and neither was he."
"No. He was very upset at the murder of his former employee. I think he was close to her. But I also caught a whiff of earthly magic. Someone used it to wipe their scent from the other crime scenes. I sent Domino over to double check. He found the same earth magic in Everett's apartment."
Mal's brain came back to the case immediately. "So someone magically inclined wiped some evidence away? Why?"
"I'm not sure, but we need to find whoever did it. We need to know why."
"I think I may be able to help with that."
They both turned at the feminine voice. The auburn haired woman sidled up to them and looked in the break room at Everett. She smiled tightly then looked back at them. Her blue eyes were clear but very serious, very intense.
"What do you have, Astra?" Carver asked.
She handed some photos over. "Donovan asked for my photos from both the bar I've been working at as a bouncer recently. Declan gave me these and told me to bring them to you."
Mal took them and splayed them out on the desk. The two wolves from the first three scenes were in full view. But in these, there was another person. A woman with light hair. Even though the photos were in black and white, they could tell she was fair headed.
"Do you know who she is?" Carver asked.
"Bogus I.D. said Saoirse O'Reilly, but the nose said fae," Astra said. She tapped her nose several times as her gaze wandered back to Everett. She was concerned for him.
"If I took you to our crime scenes, would you be able to tell if she'd been there?"
She shrugged. "Sure. Just let me make a call."
Astra stepped away from them. She passed Donovan and Ezra as they came in, inclining her head respectfully. The chief of police and Alpha smiled at her and made his way to them. He looked down at the photos on Mal's desk and shook his head.
"What did we find?" he asked.
"There's a third person. Astra brought those over for us to add to our list. The woman is fae. Astra is going with me to the crime scenes to see if the smell is the same," Carver said.
"Good. While you're doing that, Mal, you need to take Everett back to New Port."
Mal looked up and shook his head. "Sir, he's specifically said no."
Donovan held his hand up as he shook his head. "I was willing to overlook it as long as it didn't have anything to do with this case. But the Alpha in New Port said there is no record of Everett Coombs until after that crash."
Mal stared at his boss completely stupefied. How had he not been recorded? Was he an illegal alien and trying to hide it? Is that why he didn't want to go back? Was he lying to him?
"Wait, I've run his background. It's all legit. He's an Amercian citizen," he contradicted.
"He may be now, but at fifteen he was undocumented until after that crash. The hospital had to file something on him and that was the first time anything about Everett Coombs appeared anywhere in the United States." Donovan gave him a meaningful look. It said he really didn't want to do this but he had no choice. "You need to know what happened even if it doesn't unlock his memories. Whatever happened in New Port is a direct link to what's happening now."
Mal stared at his boss for a moment then looked at the man working in the break room while sipping a cup of coffee. What was he into thirteen years ago? And was it so bad someone wanted to kill to get to him?