Page 123 of The Bones in the Yard

“I—I didn’t realize at first that…” She sighed again. “No, I did. I didn’t want it to be true, but some part of me knew that it had to be…”

I almost felt a hint of guilt as a single tear escaped one horizontally slit eye and slid down her cheek. And then I reminded myself that if she’d gone to the FBI and just said everything she knew or suspected instead of sending an opaque email to some random-ass PI elf, there might be a canid shifter who would still be alive.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Hart,” Doc interrupted again.

I scowled at him. “No, I want to knowwhy me. Why not the FBI or the RPD?”

Izar looked up at me. “The police won’t do anything about it,” she said sadly. “They can’t.”

“Why the—” I broke off at the look Doc shot me. “Why not?” I amended my question.

She blinked slowly at me. “My… husband’s family has a lot of local influence. Businesses. And… politics.”

It took me a minute. Then it hit me.

Oh, fuck.

I wondered if one of the Pelayos was the fucker who was icing the Ordo cases. As far as I could tell, Vidal—the whole family—was linked to the Culhua, not the Ordo, so there wasn’t a good reason to stop the police from arresting the people who were out to kill them.

If it was, though, it made me feel the tiniest smidgeon better that it was coming from up high—even if that meant that Villanova was bowing to pressure from above, at least it was coming from above and not from him.

I’d like to think that if I’d been in his position—which I never would have been, even without having experienced an elven transformation—that I would have refused. Not that it would have done any good, mind you. It’d have gotten my ass fired and replaced by some asshat who would have done as they were told. But it was principle.

And that’s why I’d quit and Villanova hadn’t.

But maybe the Pelayos weren’t responsible for icing the Ordo cases. Maybe they were just keeping the canid murders covered up, which was more than bad enough.

I couldn’t decide if I preferred one active cover-up or two. Both were pretty fucking shitty.

“Okay,” I said out loud to Izar. “Why not contact the feds?”

Her eyes filled, but she didn’t answer.

“You wanted to protect your family, correct?” Doc’s voice was a lot gentler than mine.

Izar nodded, the tears spilling from her over-full goat’s eyes.

“Who?” I demanded.

“Hart.” This time the admonishment came from Ward.

“I—I honestly don’t know,” Izar answered, her eyes pleading with me to believe her. I wanted to, but I also knew that she was probably shoveling an absolute shit-load of denial and self-delusion.

“But?” I pressed.

“I—I’m afraid to find out,” she whispered.

“Your brother?” I asked pointedly.

“May—maybe.”

“If not, who else?”

“My mother-in-law. Or Maritza. Antonio’s sister.”

“The same people who knew about your pendant?”

---