Page 37 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
“They weren’t killed here,” I say aloud, mostly to myself.
Tolan grunts. “Looks that way. They were moved. Dumped. Burned after death, probably. If we’re lucky, the fire didn’t destroy everything—Forensics might be able to confirm timeline.”
“Any connection between the victims?”
“Not yet. All female, all between twenty and thirty. That’s the only consistent thread.”
It’s enough of a thread.
“You find anything…or see anything, you let us know, huh?”
“Of course.” I hang up and stare at the garage wall, the old calendar curling at the edges from heat. A muscle jumps in my jaw. My wolf is pacing again, agitated by the scent of manipulation, of deliberate planning.
This isn’t a rogue attack. It’s not even a crime of passion.
This is organized.
Someone is killing women, transporting their bodies, and using fire to erase the evidence. But why drag them here—to the Bitterroot, to my town? Unless the fire sites themselves matter.
Ritual.
Or maybe...message.
I scrub a hand down my face, heart thudding with dread.
The killer’s not an arsonist playing with fire.
They’re trying to destroy evidence.
And they’re getting help—maybe even from someone inside this firehouse.
The weight of the day settles into my shoulders like the smoke in my lungs. I gather the crew in the main bay and go over the plans for Nicole's funeral service. There’s a weariness that hangs over everyone, a silent heaviness none of us can shake and that no one wants to talk about.
"Full dress uniforms. We’ll honor her right. She was one of us," I say, scanning their faces. Some look down. Others nod. Even Marcus doesn’t crack a joke, mired as he is in a melancholy that is rare for him.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.” He nods without looking up.
“I’d like you to deliver the eulogy for Nicole. You were closer to her than anyone,” I add.
Marcus barely responds, stripped naked without his playboy armor.
I look the rest of the crew dead in the eye. "Until this arsonist is caught, I don’t want anyone in the woods alone. Pairs only. No exceptions. Understood?"
They murmur their assent, some more enthusiastic than others. Doesn’t matter. They’ll follow the order.
Except for her.
I’m not leaving anything to chance.
I call Sera into my office.
She stands in the doorway, wary, arms crossed like she’s bracing for impact.
“I trust your staying put won’t be a problem,” I say evenly.
She lifts a brow. “It won’t.”
I move in closer, enough to feel her breath on my chest. “I mean it.”
