Page 53 of The Runaway Mate

“According to my research, this is his home,” Derek whispered.

“Anyone live here with him?”

Derek shook his head. “His records have him living alone.”

As Keller stumbled inside his trailer, I nodded to Derek. This was it. We slipped out of the car and circled the trailer. There were no exits around the back, and the windows looked too narrow for even someone with Eddie’s frame to fit out of. The place smelled of werewolf, old, rusted metal, and greasy food.

Derek knocked at the door.

“Who’s there?” Eddie’s voice was gruff and defensive.

“We just want to talk, Eddie,” Derek responded, his tone carefully neutral.

Silence. The door creaked open a fraction, a suspicious gaze peering at us through the gap. “Don’t know you. Fuck off.”

“We believe you have information that we’d be keen to hear,” I interjected, holding up a wad of cash. Eddie’s eyes flickered between us and the cash before they narrowed.

“Nah, ain’t interested.”

Before he could close the door, I moved. I was inside his trailer before he had time to think. I grabbed his arm and twisted. His yelp of pain echoed through the trailer, and I could see fear creep into his eyes.

“Alright! Alright! I’ll talk,” Eddie wheezed, looking at the ground and trying to make himself appear smaller.

I let go of him. Eddie, wincing from the pain, held his arm awkwardly.

“We want to know about the murders. What exactly did you see?”

“Alright,” he repeated, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I… I don’t remember much about that night. I was drunk. Can’t even remember how I got back home.”

Derek glanced at me. I shook my head. I was going to let Eddie talk; we needed him to tell us everything.

“I… I was up there ‘coz…” Eddie trailed off, grimacing. “I was meeting someone. A guy who sells me… stuff. You know, out of town, where no one looks.”

There were all kinds of transactions happening where the road led into the forest marking the boundary between our territories. Transactions best kept away from prying eyes. That explained why Paul and Kaz were there, though.

“Did you know the victims?” I pressed, my voice steady.

“Kaz and Paul? Sure, I knew them. They were into some heavy stuff, man. Selling drugs and shit. They said they had the good stuff, you know, the stuff that works on Shifters.”

I frowned. Alcohol worked on Shifters just fine. Drugs were more hit-and-miss. Painkillers took the edge off. Antibiotics were rarely needed, given our healing capabilities. Recreational drugs, though, could either make us feel like we were flying or slide right off us with no effect. Often, the reaction you had was individual—a drug that worked for your sister might do nothing for you. There had been rumors lately, though, of a new drug on the scene, one that guaranteed a reaction from every Shifter. Theriothiamine, or “ripple,” as it was known on the streets, was supposed to be highly addictive for Shifters. The southern conclave cities were reporting dangerous side effects and some deaths associated with it. I hadn’t thought that ripple had reached the Three Rivers yet, but if what Keller was saying was true, then it was already here.

“Did you see the murders, Eddie?”

He shook his head. “No. I heard some noises, though. Struggles, you know. Screams. Then someone running away. Fast.”

His eyes look haunted for a moment.

“So, you didn’t actually see Carson Hodges at the scene?” I nudged.

Eddie shrugged. “Told you, man, I was drunk. All I remember is some figure bolting away. I reported it like I’m supposed to. Called it in to the voicemail.”

I looked at Derek.

“They have a hotline here for Bridgetown members to report anything that might cast an unfavorable light on the Shifter community. It means they can keep that stuff away from the human tourists with their pockets full of money.”

Unfavorable light? Yeah, I guess two men getting their throats torn out would cover that.

“Enforcers came round after,” Eddie continued. “They showed me a picture of this Carson guy later, told me it was him.”

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