Page 50 of The Runaway Mate

“Why the fuck did Brock just up and leave like that?” the goateed man grumbled, his voice low but carrying a current of unease.

The businessman replied, “Fuck Brock! We came all this way to broker the alliance. I thought Brock had more respect. Or at least that he needed this. I still don’t understand what Bridgetown is doing getting involved in this.”

If they were from the Bridgetown Pack, they should have been talking to Jem or Hayley, not Brock.

The woman sighed audibly. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Our job was to take the meeting and report back to Tristan.”

A chill swept over me. This wasn’t a casual meeting. If the Bridgetown Alphas were getting involved and taking sides against Jem, then this was more serious than I thought.

Chapter thirty-four

Ryan

The sharp ping of a text message from my brother Derek reverberated in my pocket, piercing the stillness in my car. I couldn’t listen to my usual music; it drowned out my thoughts, and right now, I needed to hear myself think. I fished out my phone. Carson was at Jem‘s place. It was time to turn over some stones.

I drove quickly, parking at my place and jogging over to Jem’s. I found Derek and Carson at the dining room table.

“We alone?” I asked my brother as I walked in.

“Yes, everyone’s out. I made sure before I brought him here.”

I nodded, then took a good look at Carson. His face was pale and drawn. He was clutching his hands together and staring at the table, but otherwise, he looked like the calm figure I’d always known him to be.

“Carson,” I began, “thank you for coming. You know why you’re here?”

He gave a quick nod of his head.

“Okay. I need to ask you some questions. I know you’ve gone over this with Derek already, but I need to hear it from you.”

Carson stared at my nose, not meeting my eyes and not saying anything.

“You know where the bodies were found?”

He nodded this time.

“Were you there anytime in the last week?”

His answer came back like a recoiling spring, swift and tense. “No. I’ve been at my cabin. Since last Wednesday.”

I studied him, trying to navigate the uncertain waters between truth and deception. “Why would anyone claim they saw you fleeing the scene, then?”

His eyes sparked with anger. “I’ve no idea, Ryan. I don’t know why someone would want to pin this on me.”

No, I didn’t, either. I had to work out if he was being framed or if he really was our killer. “What do you do up at that cabin of yours, Carson?”

The hint of a weary smile shadowed his face. “I enjoy the quiet, Ryan. Being away from humans, not needing to pretend all the time. I can be myself up there. Shift to a wolf, hunt when I want…”

“Hunt?” I asked, keeping my voice even.

He shot me a look that said he knew what I was really asking.

“Squirrels, rabbit, sometimes deer. Never humans. You know me, Ryan. You know that’s not who I am.”

The trouble was, I did know. Whoever killed those boys, it wasn’t Carson. But we had no proof.

“Who knew you were up at your cabin this week?”

Carson took a moment to answer. “Everyone knows I go there, but I guess only Jem and Mattie knew I was there this week.

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