Page 19 of Bears Behaving Badly
Taryn had been a big help, making use of her contacts to help Nadia pull whatever feeds she needed ASAP. Under ordinary circumstances, that could have taken at least a day. And if nothing else, the near-miss proved once and for all that the parking-garage security was overdue for an upgrade.
Among other changes, new cameras would be installed to take pictures of the license plate of every car that went in and out. Annette had been astonished such an upgrade was necessary, then astonished she’d been astonished. As with any regulated agency, there were ten places to put every dollar.
“And during that ninety-second blackout window,” Annette continued, “someone let Caro out. Or she let herself out.”
David fidgeted in the passenger seat. “Looks like.”
“I know why you’re both looking at me, and you can quit it right now. It wasn’t me,” Dev declared from the back seat. “Besides, didn’t the blackout window open while we were in the parking garage? You said yourself you weren’t gonna let me out of your sight. And you didn’t. Y’know, after the, um, break-room thing.”
All this while Annette was taking them up the driveway to her house. The hearing had been two hours ago, during which time David had determined the feeds weren’t going to be any help and they verified that the silently elusive Caro wasn’t anywhere on the premises.
“Dev, do you at least know why she left? Or where she would have gone?”
“No,non,nein.Maybe she remembered that she didn’t do anything wrong and that self-defense is legal? So why stick around? That’s why I would’ve left.” Annette felt a thump as he kicked the back of her seat for emphasis.
“Or someone let her go,” David pointed out.
Exactly what Annette was afraid of. “I really, really hope that’s not true,” she fretted. She could hear the steering wheel start to creak and forced herself to loosen her grip. “It would mean someone on the inside—one ofus—is protecting her, or protecting Lund, or something even more sinister is going on, something we haven’t yet tumbled to, and I don’t like it, I don’t like any of it.”
“Nobody had to let me out,” Dev put in. “I’ll bet she let herself out. Your restraints are a joke.”
“Possibly. Your amorality and skinny wrists might also be factors in play. I guess we’ll just have to ask Caro when we find her.”
David snorted. “Good luck.”
“But don’t the bad guys in the carhaveto be someone on the inside?” Dev asked. “It’s not like a Stable can just roll in from Sixth Street and randomly try to run over a trio of Shifters.”
Also what she was afraid of. Because of course Dev was right. No one got onto those levels by accident. Ever. And the parking-garage feeds didn’t help. They showed the assault-via-vehicle attempt (and David moving faster than thought to knock her clear), but the car was nondescript and had blacked-out windows. Minnesota plates, black SUV, but the angle was bad and no one could read the plate number. If she were to bet—and she never bet—she’d guess it was a rental. If they could find it, they could follow a paper trail.
But first things first. She’d parked just outside her garage and was headed up the wide sidewalk to the broad expense of gray steps. “One problem at a time, gents. Come on.”
“Holy crap. So being a caseworker is super lucrative, I guess.”
“No, Dev. Do not go into this line of work if staggering wealth is your goal. My folks left me some money after they were killed, which I used for this. My roommate helped with the renovations. McMansion house, Walmart wardrobe.”
“I remember!” Dev, who had been trotting at her heels, skipped ahead of her and David and was walking backward while he chattered. “The first time you caught me, you got me to come with you by saying you were in the system, too, when you were a kid.”
“The first, second, and third time I caught you,” she pointed out while David stifled a snort.
“What… I mean, it’s none of my biz, but what happened to your folks? You don’t have to say if you don’t want,” he added hastily.
“They were killed just outside Yosemite.”
“Oh. Sorry. Poachers?” Dev hopped over one of the planters lining the walk without looking. “Stables who didn’t know the difference between you guys and wild bears?”
“No. Car accident.”
Dev giggled, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Smooth,” David said, and looked amused when Annette poked him in the bicep. “Don’t feel bad, kid. She gets that a lot.”
“Sorry! I’m sorry. I’m not laughing ’cuz your folks died. I wouldn’t laugh about that. It’s—”
She smiled down at him as she opened the door and ushered them inside, past the foyer and living area. “I understand. It’s what everyone assumes. No one expects the mundane explanation.” Then, as her unholy trio entered the kitchen: “Pat, this is my ward pro tem, Dev Devoss, and David Auberon, one of our investigators. Dev, David, this is my roommate, Pat.”
Frozen in the act of juicing what appeared to be a thousand oranges, Pat just stared at them. He’d changed out of his earlier clothing and was now in overalls and lipstick. And mascara, Annette decided after a closer look. It was criminal how men were so often blessed with long lashes. Especially men with blue eyes. Wait. Pat had hazel eyes;Davidhad blue eyes.Why am I thinking about David’s eyes?
Pat’s straight blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and he smelled like an orange grove, which was pretty wonderful. “Huh,” he said after a long moment. “Welcome.” To Annette: “I got excited for a second. Thought you might have a date.”
