Page 88 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“And then Sam got off the plane somehow, didn’t die, called Sally at IPA and told her to…hang out with me? Why? Did he know about the Sindicate? If he did, why did he and his wife leave Sally to fly east? And where the hellishe?”
“Those are all good—”
“And where does Berne fit in? Is he in on it? Or just a bystander? And why try to burn Macropi’s house down? How does that help them get their claws on Sally? All it did was piss us off and put everyone on their guard.”
“And wreck my carpets and some of the drapes,” Macropi added. “And my houseplants!”
“And now there are fire inspectors and insurance guys running around the neighborhood, and trust me, your neighbors are all gawking, too. Nothing brings out the lookie-loos like a house fire. So why draw that kind of attention?”
“As I said.” Garsea, who’d gotten up to freshen their drinks, handed her another screwdriver. “It’s a theory.”
“Look, I’m not trying to run you down…”
“Oh, we’re aware.” Garsea smirked. “If that’s what you were doing, I doubt there’d be any confusion on our end.”
“Touché. All I’m saying is, sometimes it’s not a great big conspiracy. Sometimes it’s bad luck and pilot error. Sally’s mom was sick—maybe that ties in somehow.”
“True,” Garsea agreed. “And I have to wonder if we’re missing the obvious. Perhaps Sam Smalls parachuted out of that plane?”
The shocked laugh was out before Lila could lock it back. “Sorry. But if he jumped, he’s dead. Simple as that. You can’t just shrug into a parachute pack and jump out of a random plane. It has to be specially modified, there are too many snag points. Your momentum is the same as the airplane’s when you jump, which is problematic for all sorts of reasons… When I was researching it a few years ago, I ran across a story where a crash in Finland killed eight skydivers. A parachute isn’t a magic wand.”
“You really like to research,” Garsea observed.
“I fucking love to research.”
“Yeah, those are all good points,” Oz admitted. “Nadia did check on Sally’s pilot qualifications. She got her license years ago, just after flight school but before she got out of the Twopers.”
“Flight school? And troopers? You guys have your own military?”
“Twopers. Slang for the Two Percenters,” Annette explained. “Which isn’t even accurate, it’s arguably four percent. And it’s nothing so organized. More like a militia whose primary function is more about protecting the community and our territory than going on the offense.”
Two percenters? Or four? Does it indicate the Shifter population?“Okay. So maybe not pilot error. But maybe not sabotage, either.”
Annette shrugged. “It’s what we have so far. We’ll keep at it.”
“Good.” They were using her, Lila realized, letting her bounce ideas off them to (hopefully) inspire cognition that would lead to an answer. “And I hate to admit it, but it looks like the whiteboard was a good idea. Right, Macropi?” Lila turned around. “Macropi? She was here two seconds ago.”
“Yeah, operative wordwas.First, she was tense since we’re sharing deep dark secrets with you. Then when you were appropriately grossed out and horrified by the Sindicate, she was relieved and approving. And then she got upset all over again about what Caro went through, so she slipped out to check on the cubs she knows are perfectly snug and safe. And when she comes in, she’s gonna overcompensate for all of it because she hates the thought of the Sindicate and of any of us being in danger. So she’s probably gonna b—”
The kitchen door twanged. “Who wants apple pie?”
“Me,” they all said at once. And Oz gave her such a warm smile, Lila couldn’t help grinning back.
Chapter 35
“Thanks for coming out with me.”
“No biggie. I needed some fresh air after spending the afternoon in a field.”
Oz chuckled and swung into the parking garage. After pie, after Annette left for home and the cubs were settled, he’d asked Lila if she wanted to go for a drive or grab a coffee, expecting a polite “under no circumstances.” For whatever reason, she not only said yes, but packed a tote and practically dragged him to his car. From there, she directed him to the Hamm Building for reasons unknown, and they’d made the drive in no time thanks to zero traffic at such an hour.
He had no idea why she’d wanted to come.
He wasn’t dumb enough to question it.
She wanted to go back to the Hamm Building, where her office was? Okay. To check on her “patients” and/or perform more stuffed animal surgery? No problem, to the Hamm Building they would go. He’d take her to the Empire State Building. The Golden Gate Bridge. The Goderich Salt Mine. Pripyat. Wherever she wanted.
Lila slung her tote over one shoulder and fell into step with him as they left the car and took the elevator to the offices. “I just wanna check my intakes and then show you somethin’.”
