Page 117 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

I chuckle. “She’s just worried about you.”

“Look at me.” The man gestures with his arms. To humor him, I do so.

Tall with a trim figure that doesn’t give away his age, George Hammel is in his late fifties and deputy commissioner of the local police. Normally, our paths would never have crossed, but the fates have their own plans, and I ended up meeting George when I saved his life from a rabid rogue shifter.

Rogue shifters are rare among our kind, and no one knows how they become rabid. George had been in the woods with his sons when the shifter attacked him. I happened to be nearby with Finn. I had been teaching my son how to shift forms when I heard the sound of children screaming.

I ended up killing the shifter, not an easy task but one that became necessary when it turned its attention toward my own son. However, the injuries that I sustained in the process had me shifting back to my human form. I remember how George bandaged me up and helped me back to the city. His children were too young to understand what they had seen, but their father did.

George found my address in my wallet and made sure I got home and into Maya’s care before he left. I intended to tell Erik about my run-in with the man, but I didn’t know who he was. The next time I bumped into him was when I was trying to search for police files on a certain case.

Since then, for all these years, George has kept my secret, and he has helped me with a lot of my investigations. In return, I’ve helped him with a few of his. It’s an odd friendship, but one that is mutually beneficial.

“You look completely healthy,” I announce after my visual inspection of the man. “How are the boys?”

“Nate has started high school.” George looks proud. “Ben is in his last year of middle school. I don’t know how they grew up so fast. How’s Finn? Did you bring him with you?”

He looks around, and I smile. “He’s with his father.”

George appears surprised. “I didn’t know his father was in the picture.”

“He wasn’t. This is a recent development.”

The older man clears his throat. “And you? Are the two of you…”

My smile widens. “We’re working things out. I’m considering moving to be near him.”

George frowns in disapproval. “Why do you have to move? He should be the one to come to you. Finn’s life should not be disrupted.”

I chuckle. “Unfortunately, his job is not conducive to relocation. And I think Finn will be happy.”

“Have you asked him?”

I give him a blank look. “Asked whom?”

“Finn.”

“Asked him what?”

“Whether he wants to move.” George raises his eyebrows at me. “I know he’s a child, but you should involve him in your decision. Otherwise, there could be room for resentment.”

Thoughtful now, I study him. “I didn’t consider that. From everything he has said, I think he would really want to go there. But I probably should discuss it with him.”

George nods. “Children are very perceptive and sensitive to enormous changes like this. If you involve them in the decision-making, or at least let them think they have a say, they accept the change more easily. At least, that’s what I’ve learned.” He fumbles in his coat pocket and then says, “Here,” as he hands me a flash drive. “I couldn’t get the physical files, but since the departments have started digitizing everything, I have images of everything you need.”

I stare at the flash drive, my blood starting to pound between my ears. “If this is what I think it is, George, I’m going to need to see the evidence.”

He gives me a brief smile. “Don’t worry. That can be arranged.”

I pocket the flash drive. “How long have you been looking into this?”

He thinks for a few seconds before answering. “We have had a file open on an active serial killer for about three years now. The same red circle with cell phones and wallets. Missing persons, no immediate family to contact. If I had known this was linked to your work, I’d have given the evidence to you much earlier. My detectives are coming up empty-handed.”

“Wait, no immediate family?” I go still.

He shakes his head. “Parents deceased, no siblings, no partners, just a handful of friends. No one in their life who would notice them missing. It’s a pattern.”

“How many open cases do you have?” I ask numbly.

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