Last Chance - Sample Only!!!

5 - Loosely Packed

Rory

The tension in the tank could be cut with a knife. It's been just over a week of investigating and not one wolf has found a single piece of evidence of little Maise Perez's existence from the time of her abduction to the day her body was found in the park. Whoever took her and held her for two months did so without leaving a trace.

It's put everyone in the absolute worst mood, and yet, in the tank, everyone has either been fairly welcoming or left me alone.

Of course, that may be due to the fact that with me helping Kelsey, the old files are being sorted twice as fast.

Some of the information we've been gleaning is excellent, too. The pack that we're working on now, the BlueGrass, is a defunct, tiny pack from Appalachia, that happened to sit between two of the largest packs in the east; the WhiteClaw in Kentucky and the GreyRidge in Virginia.

They lost packmembers en masse about a decade ago. Some of them left, and there are records of where they went unless they went alone and didn't join another pack. Other wolves disappeared, and it's those wolves that Kelsey and I are flagging.

"Found Olive Bennet," Kelsey murmurs. She has two computers (seriously, bang the computer nerd, ladies) and is running two programs simultaneously to locate the wolves who went rogue. "She's living in upstate New York."

"There's a pack on that side of the Great Lakes?" I ask.

"Really close to the lake, yeah. Lake Ontario, the one farthest east. I think it's an offshoot of the Maine pack."

"Close to the witches," I point out quietly.

"Yup. I wouldn't want to live anywhere close to the Maine pack, that's for sure."

The Maine pack isn't a traditional one. It's more of a conglomerate of smaller, loosely-formed packs and family clans. They don't even have a proper name. They have an alpha, but I get the sense his role is more akin to our council. He advises and decides on important matters. Despite this and the proximity to the witches up and down the East Coast, the Maine pack is huge.

"If you were going to leave your pack," I muse out loud, "and didn't want to join a new one, the Maine pack would be a good choice."

"Right. Unless you're a criminal, they're good at sussing out those," Kelsey muses. She moves Olive Bennet to the 'found' column in our spreadsheet and notes down the scant information from the Maine pack.

"We're almost done with BlueGrass," I tell Kelsey. I leaf through the last of the documents, "six pages left."

"Wow, only six?" Kelsey asks in surprise. "That's great." She pauses for a moment. "We're fabulous." Her voice has gotten quieter.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"We're going to be pulled into the Maise investigation. We haven't been, yet, because they're still in the field, but this afternoon we'll be debriefed. The whole department will be."

"That's not a bad thing, right?" I ask.

Kelsey nods, "I guess not. I hate these investigations, though."

"She's a pup," I agree.

"It's not just that. I mean, it is, but also... well, everyone starts to step on each other's toes. It can turn into a competition as soon as Gamma's back is turned."

"What is there to compete over?" I ask.

"Who finds the killer, first, I guess."

I get it. High-ranking wolves are always competitive. Kelsey isn't, but I can't say that I wouldn't want to 'win' whatever the contest is. Still, isn't it more important to find a pup-killer? I would kiss Bianca on the mouth if it would guarantee finding this asshole.