Page 41 of Throne of Secrets

“I believe you were about to call Detective Bartholomew?” Ethan prompted, his tone a warning.

“Yeah, yeah,” the officer muttered. “They’re swamped. Might be a while.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Then you should probably call now. Unless you’d prefer I reach out to the chief of police instead.”

The man’s smirk was instant. “Please. If I had a dollar for everyone who claimed they knew the chief.”

Ethan slid his phone from his pocket, scrolling until a familiar name appeared. The chief and his son worked out at Casey’s Gym, and they’d become friendly over the years. He held the screen up. “Want to verify the number?”

The officer’s eyes flicked from the phone to Ethan and back again. His bravado cracked. “No need.” He snatched the desk phone. “Calling Bartholomew now.”

Ethan didn’t move until the officer had finished dialing. Only then did he guide Thor to a corner seat, his attitude blasted cold and sharp as steel. “We’ll wait here.”

A small boy sat with his mother in the waiting room, and his wide eyes locked onto Thor. Despite her efforts to hold him back, the child's fascination was clear.

Ethan offered a reassuring smile. “It’s all right if he comes over. Thor won’t hurt him.”

The mother hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

“You’re welcome to come, too,” Ethan added, his tone warm.

With a soft nod, the mother guided her son forward. Thor’s tongue lolled in a doggy grin as the toddler reached out. A gentle lick on the boy’s hand sparked a giggle, and with his mother’s encouragement, he patted Thor’s scruff. The massive dog settled on the floor, lowering himself to the child’s level. The boy, delighted, nestled beside him, fingers sinking into the thick fur.

The mother eased down into the seat next to Ethan. “He’s a beautiful animal.”

“Thank you,” Ethan replied with a touch of pride. “He’s getting old, a little gray around the muzzle, but he’s my best friend.”

“Is he a wolf?” she asked, curiosity lacing her voice. “He certainly looks like one.”

Ethan delivered his standard answer. “Irish Wolfhound and blue German Shepherd mix.” The truth—Irish Wolfhound and timber wolf—remained his secret.

A voice called the woman’s name. She smiled her thanks, scooped up her child, and disappeared through a side door.

A few minutes later, Ethan’s focus sharpened as a man emerged from another office and headed for the front desk. The officer, ever the ass, pointed straight at him.

The man approached, extending a hand. “Detective Bartholomew. You’re Ethan Wolf?”

Ethan’s handshake was firm. “Yes.”

Bartholomew smirked. “Not what I expected.”

“Excuse me?” Ethan’s brow arched.

The detective grinned. “Your neighbor called you a computer security nerd. I added the ‘nerd’ part. Guys like that are usually five foot nothing and scrawny as hell. You’re … not.”

Ethan’s lips quirked. “Haven’t been since the fourth grade.” He lifted the bag. “I brought Star some clothes. I’ll be her ride home. Should we wait here?”

Bartholomew’s eyes flicked to Thor. “He looks like he’s got wolf in him.”

“Irish Wolfhound and blue German Shepherd,” Ethan replied smoothly.

The detective chuckled. “Still looks like a wolf to me. He gonna behave upstairs?”

Ethan scratched Thor’s ears. “He only bites on command—or if someone’s attacking me or Star.”

“Well, then,” Bartholomew said, grinning. “I’ll make sure nobody attacks you. And hey, your neighbor?” He snorted. “Puked on my partner’s shoes. Samson’s a neat freak. She did me a favor—I’ve got a year’s worth of ammo for teasing him.”

Ethan’s laughter rumbled low. “Didn’t know that.”

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