Blind Tiger
Page 63
“It’s noon, Robyn.” The sense of urgency in his voice, along with whatever Alpha pheromones were leaking from his veins, made me suddenly itch to get moving, even though I was morally opposed to that action. “We can’t carry him out without being seen, and we can’t call the police because eventually, they might be able to match my voice from the 911 call. And even if they can’t, an anonymous 911 call will lead the authorities to investigate this as more than the accident it’ll look like if the body is found organically.”
“You don’t think they’ll know this was a murder?”
“Not unless they connect it with Ivy’s disappearance. And we can’t afford to be the ones who call this in, in case they do make that connection. Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I followed him into the hall, then out of the building without making eye contact with the two people we passed on the way. Fortunately, they were both staring at their phones and couldn’t possibly identify either of us, if asked to.
By the time we got to the car, the unasked question was like a hot coal sitting on the end of my tongue. “Was it Justus?”
“I don’t know.” Titus slid into the driver’s seat, closed his door, and started the engine. “Accidentally infecting people, I can understand. He likely didn’t even know that was possible. But murder? In human form?” He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “He wouldn’t do that. It’s not Justus.”
“So maybe it was an accident.” I think I wanted to believe that as badly as Titus did. “Maybe he came to confront Leland about Ivy, and they fought. Maybe Leland hit his head, and Justus panicked.”
Titus’s gaze stayed glued to the road, but he didn’t seem to see the traffic. “That’s a lot of maybes.”
“And I stand by each one of them. But there are other possibilities. There have to be. If it wasn’t Justus, who else could it be? What are we missing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who else would want Leland dead? Not that Justus would want him dead,” I hurried to add. Which was when I realized I was making guesses about the motives and thoughts of a person I’d never even met. “My point is that we could be overlooking someone else’s motivation. If this wasn’t an accident, it was murder, and murder always has a motive, right?”
“I’m pretty sure that true psychotics murder people just for fun,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Okay, but if Leland Blum got infected by a shifter, lost his girlfriend, and was murdered by a true psychopath, all in the span of two days, he’s the unluckiest man on the face of the planet. Odds are that his murder and his infection are related. We just need to figure out how.”
Titus stared at the road in silence.
I put one hand on his shoulder, half afraid he would shrug it off. “That doesn’t mean Justus did it. That isn’t what I’m saying.”
“I know. But it’s what I’m thinking. Who else would have anything against Blum?”
“We may not know that until we know who killed him.”
“Or we may never know.” Titus pulled the SUV into the parking lot of his brother’s apartment building, then into Justus’s designated space. He shifted into park, then folded his arms on top of the steering wheel and laid his forehead against them. “I can handle a brother who lost control of himself after being infected. But I don’t know what to do with a brother who’s a murderer.”
“We don’t know this is Justus. We have plenty of trouble on our hands. Try not to borrow more okay?”
Titus sat up, and his gaze caught on my mouth. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Then he frowned. “I’m taking you to Drew. Let’s run in and get your toothbrush.”
“What? No! You promised the council—”
“That I’d keep you safe. That’s what I’m doing. Leland Blum was murdered, Robyn. It’s not safe for you out here anymore, and I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not going—”
“Yes, you are. You should be surrounded by enforcers right now. Come on.” He got out of the car, and I had to follow him to argue with him. Yet on my way up the stairs, I realized there was no good argument to be made. I probably would be safer at his house, surrounded by enforcers. But the only thing I wanted to be surrounded by was Titus’s arms.
“Hey!” I snapped as I jogged up the stairs after him. “I’m not—”
“Shh!” He turned to me with a fierce look, then pointed at the door to Justus’s apartment. Which stood open about two inches.
“You locked it when we left,” I whispered. “I specifically remember that.”
“Yes, and I also closed it. Stay here.” Titus pushed the door open, flinching when the hinges squealed, then stepped inside. “Damn it,” he swore, but I couldn’t see what the problem was until he headed for his brother’s room, clearing my line of sight.
Justus’s living room had been destroyed.
The glass coffee table lay in shards and chunks all over the pristine white carpet. The couch had been overturned, leather cushions tossed aside. Every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen stood open, and the bi-fold doors concealing the washer and dryer had nearly been pulled from their hinges.
“The bedroom’s empty. And it’s trashed again,” Titus whispered on his way through the living area toward the guest room. “I don’t think this was Justus. Whoever was here didn’t have a key and seems to have been searching the apartment.”
I tiptoed behind him into the kitchen, my new boots crunching on glass, and grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the granite countertop.
“Robyn!” Titus snapped softly. Then he pointed to the front door, silently telling me to go outside.
I held the knife up and mimed gutting the vandalizing bastard, but Titus looked distinctly unimpressed. He opened the guest room door, his entire body tense and ready to spring into action. Then his arms fell limp at his sides and his shoulders relaxed.
I looked past him into the room. It was practically untouched. The only thing out of place was…
“Um, Titus?” I edged by him into the room and picked up a wallet lying on the unmade bed. “Is this yours?”
“You don’t think they’ll know this was a murder?”
“Not unless they connect it with Ivy’s disappearance. And we can’t afford to be the ones who call this in, in case they do make that connection. Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I followed him into the hall, then out of the building without making eye contact with the two people we passed on the way. Fortunately, they were both staring at their phones and couldn’t possibly identify either of us, if asked to.
By the time we got to the car, the unasked question was like a hot coal sitting on the end of my tongue. “Was it Justus?”
“I don’t know.” Titus slid into the driver’s seat, closed his door, and started the engine. “Accidentally infecting people, I can understand. He likely didn’t even know that was possible. But murder? In human form?” He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “He wouldn’t do that. It’s not Justus.”
“So maybe it was an accident.” I think I wanted to believe that as badly as Titus did. “Maybe he came to confront Leland about Ivy, and they fought. Maybe Leland hit his head, and Justus panicked.”
Titus’s gaze stayed glued to the road, but he didn’t seem to see the traffic. “That’s a lot of maybes.”
“And I stand by each one of them. But there are other possibilities. There have to be. If it wasn’t Justus, who else could it be? What are we missing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who else would want Leland dead? Not that Justus would want him dead,” I hurried to add. Which was when I realized I was making guesses about the motives and thoughts of a person I’d never even met. “My point is that we could be overlooking someone else’s motivation. If this wasn’t an accident, it was murder, and murder always has a motive, right?”
“I’m pretty sure that true psychotics murder people just for fun,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Okay, but if Leland Blum got infected by a shifter, lost his girlfriend, and was murdered by a true psychopath, all in the span of two days, he’s the unluckiest man on the face of the planet. Odds are that his murder and his infection are related. We just need to figure out how.”
Titus stared at the road in silence.
I put one hand on his shoulder, half afraid he would shrug it off. “That doesn’t mean Justus did it. That isn’t what I’m saying.”
“I know. But it’s what I’m thinking. Who else would have anything against Blum?”
“We may not know that until we know who killed him.”
“Or we may never know.” Titus pulled the SUV into the parking lot of his brother’s apartment building, then into Justus’s designated space. He shifted into park, then folded his arms on top of the steering wheel and laid his forehead against them. “I can handle a brother who lost control of himself after being infected. But I don’t know what to do with a brother who’s a murderer.”
“We don’t know this is Justus. We have plenty of trouble on our hands. Try not to borrow more okay?”
Titus sat up, and his gaze caught on my mouth. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Then he frowned. “I’m taking you to Drew. Let’s run in and get your toothbrush.”
“What? No! You promised the council—”
“That I’d keep you safe. That’s what I’m doing. Leland Blum was murdered, Robyn. It’s not safe for you out here anymore, and I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not going—”
“Yes, you are. You should be surrounded by enforcers right now. Come on.” He got out of the car, and I had to follow him to argue with him. Yet on my way up the stairs, I realized there was no good argument to be made. I probably would be safer at his house, surrounded by enforcers. But the only thing I wanted to be surrounded by was Titus’s arms.
“Hey!” I snapped as I jogged up the stairs after him. “I’m not—”
“Shh!” He turned to me with a fierce look, then pointed at the door to Justus’s apartment. Which stood open about two inches.
“You locked it when we left,” I whispered. “I specifically remember that.”
“Yes, and I also closed it. Stay here.” Titus pushed the door open, flinching when the hinges squealed, then stepped inside. “Damn it,” he swore, but I couldn’t see what the problem was until he headed for his brother’s room, clearing my line of sight.
Justus’s living room had been destroyed.
The glass coffee table lay in shards and chunks all over the pristine white carpet. The couch had been overturned, leather cushions tossed aside. Every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen stood open, and the bi-fold doors concealing the washer and dryer had nearly been pulled from their hinges.
“The bedroom’s empty. And it’s trashed again,” Titus whispered on his way through the living area toward the guest room. “I don’t think this was Justus. Whoever was here didn’t have a key and seems to have been searching the apartment.”
I tiptoed behind him into the kitchen, my new boots crunching on glass, and grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the granite countertop.
“Robyn!” Titus snapped softly. Then he pointed to the front door, silently telling me to go outside.
I held the knife up and mimed gutting the vandalizing bastard, but Titus looked distinctly unimpressed. He opened the guest room door, his entire body tense and ready to spring into action. Then his arms fell limp at his sides and his shoulders relaxed.
I looked past him into the room. It was practically untouched. The only thing out of place was…
“Um, Titus?” I edged by him into the room and picked up a wallet lying on the unmade bed. “Is this yours?”
