Page 64 of The Tracker's Dawn: Sunderverse
Silence.
“You can trust me.”
Eric, who I knew could hear the conversation with his enhanced werewolf senses, glowered, seeming to disapprove of the idea of sharing anything with the detective.
Tom let out a sigh. “I can’t force you to tell me anything, but if there’s anything that could help us stop this mess, I hope you’ll consider sharing it. You will probably get a visit from the detective Em talked to. They will want to question you about the kidnapping claim.”
Crap!As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later,” he said.
I disconnected the call and absently stuffed the phone back in my pocket.
“Do you trust him?” Eric asked.
I met his gaze and nodded. “I do.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t tell him anything if I was you, but then again, I’mnotyou.”
“Did something happen to Em?” Rosalina asked, looking worried.
“No. She was just theretattletalingabout her kidnapping.” It was stupid for me to say that. She was well within her rights to raise the issue with the authorities. I was just upset because I didn’t need any more problems, and she’d just outed me to a detective that wasn’t Tom.
We were quiet for a moment, then I remembered something that had struck me as odd.
“Em said something weird about Bach playing beyond the walls of wherever Mekare was keeping her.”
Rosalina sat up straight, her eyes showing white all around the irises, her hands gripping the armchair, nails digging in.
“What is it?” I asked.
She blinked at the floor several times. “I remember...” She nodded. “Yes, I remember that music, classical music.” She pressed her fingers to her temples as if trying to recall more.
Eric and I sat still, not moving a muscle, afraid of distracting her train of thought.
“There was something else,” she went on, “other sounds like planes? And fire engines?”
I perked up, my mind whirling with the information and what it could mean. “Maybe she was keeping you near an airport?” I asked suggestively.
“And a fire station?” Eric added a bit sarcastically.
“Don’t they have fire stations in airports?” I asked. It made sense. Planes crashed.
“Dunno,” Eric said.
I pulled up my phone and did a quick search. “Yeah, both STL and Lambert have a fire department nearby.”
Eric’s initial skepticism washed away. He pushed to the edge of his chair.
“There are lots of warehouses around Lambert,” Damien said, sitting up and blinking. “Perfect places for a rhabo operation.”
I thought he’d been asleep, but it looked as if he’d been listening the entire time.
“Eric,” I pointed toward his desk. “Can I use your computer?”
“Have at it.”
I jumped on it and ran a quick search. Just like Damien had said... therewerea lot of warehouses around Lambert International Airport. It was an industrial-looking area just like where Pulse Inc. had been located. In fact, there were a load of similar structures in the vicinity.
