The Wolf with the Iron Jaw (Elysium #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

 "You're kidding," Booker breathed.

Gin shook her head. "They've been braggin' for days. Even say they're the ones who killed that woman found by the Clocktower."

Booker ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild and desperate. "They must be bluffing."

Gin shrugged. "Maybe, but so far, there's no evidence to prove 'em wrong. And that lady turning up dead just backs them up more. Guess she was involved with the newest member of the Mice. Heard he got sacked from his old job cuz of her. Seems like something they'd do, havin' a wolf eat her as payback."

"They're only saying this to get people to bow to them more than they already do," Booker said as he began to pace.

"Could be, but right now everyone is so spooked at the idea of them having some vicious, mutant wolf that they're letting them get away with just about anything. Card games've been pretty tense lately. Folks are too scared to not let the Mice win. Can't blame them. I don't much like losing when I should be winning, but I'd like my throat being torn out even less."

Booker finally ceased his frantic pacing and cradled his chin in his hand. "I can guarantee this is a ruse. And I'm going to prove it."

He ducked back into the house, and Trinket followed after him. Gin hung off the doorframe, glancing inside as they hurriedly donned their coats. "What are you gonna do?" she asked.

"I'm going to find a friend of mine and call in a favor," he said as he rushed out the door, Trinket at his side.

"You're not gonna do something stupid, are you?" Gin asked, trotting along behind them.

"No, I'm not. And why the devil did you not tell me about this earlier?"

"I tried to over a week ago! I was ringing and ringing your bell the night I found out about the Wolf, but no one answered!"

"Must have been the night we removed Alice's foot," Trinket said.

"You removed someone's foot?" Gin asked excitedly.

Booker shook his head. "Not nearly as important as this. And since when do you give up after one night of ringing for me?"

"I figured you must've been in the middle of something. Madison said he saw some people go into your place early in the week and that they hadn't come out since. I didn't wanna disturb your work."

Sighing, Booker picked up his pace. "I will never forgive that blasted couple."

The city center should have been all noise and commotion considering the time of day, but instead, it was uncomfortably still. There were a few people in the streets, but they were either running back to their shops and homes or rushing to a large group that had congregated outside of the flower shop.

"What's all this?" Booker asked as they slowed down near the outskirts of the crowd.

"Not sure," Gin said, standing on her tiptoes to try to steal a look. "I've been hanging about your place all morning hoping to catch you."

There were too many people surrounding the scene to be able to see what they were murmuring about, so Booker pushed his way through. Trinket stayed right on his heels, mumbling apologies to the onlookers he shoved aside until they reached the front.

There, on the ground. A body. A woman. Her limbs wrenched in unnatural angles, her tangled hair obscuring her face. But Trinket didn't need to see her face to know who it was. All she had to do was look at the man sobbing over her body.

Mr. Wotton.

This was his wife.

Dead.

Booker approached and knelt before the body. "How long has she been here?" he asked Mr. Wotton.