The Hunted

Twenty-Seven

Red

"This is where it happened?"

Red jerked his chin farther down the alleyway towards a set of dumpsters. It was there, four and a half months ago, that a prolific businessman named Martin Chapman had been slaughtered after heading home alone from a popular bar at night.

"The body was found behind the dumpsters," he said to Blake.

Without looking at him, Blake strode towards the end of the alleyway. The crime scene had longed since been cleaned up but it hadn't stopped Blake from wanting to check it out anyway. They had driven from Sanguis Ridge to Denver and spent half the morning wandering the city and following the exact path that Chapman had taken the day of his death.

It was interesting to watch Blake at work because this side of hunting was so far removed from what Red was familiar with. He knew about the fighting skills because he'd seen that first hand but he was unused to seeing someone survey a crime scene like a seasoned detective at only twenty-three years of age.

The look of concentration that settled over her face was almost too tempting and it was an effort for Red to hold himself in check. Especially when Blake knelt before a section of brick wall next to the dumpster and bit her lip. She had left her hair unbound this morning and it flowed around her shoulders – long and inky dark. Red had an urge to run his fingers through it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

Instead, he asked, "Find anything?"

"Look at this," Blake said, pointing towards the wall. Red crept down the alleyway towards her to look at what she'd found. "See those scratches?"

Red peered at them. The marks were faint but it looked as if something exceptionally sharp had been raked across the brick, leaving streaks behind. They were in a familiar pattern – something he might expect from the claws of a wolf.

"Yeah," he said as he pulled out his cellphone to take a picture. "I see them."

Blake ran her fingers across the marks and then gestured to the ground. "This is where Chapman was killed. His body was found the next morning by a homeless woman who went into the café across the street and had them call the police."

She looked up and across the street. The café – a cute little hole in the wall place called The Beanery – faced the alleyway directly. Her brow furrowed as she stared at that café and then she was standing again and heading towards it.

"What are you doing?" Red asked as he matched her stride.

"Asking a few questions." Blake shrugged as she reached the door and opened it. Red followed her inside where he was met immediately the heavenly smell of strong coffee and freshly baked pastries.

Inside, Blake immediately went up to the cash register line and ordered coffees for each of them – Red was secretly pleased to learn that she had started to remember the way he took his coffee with one cream, two sugar – and a few pastries.

Then, once their order was being prepared and the line was gone, Blake took the time to look at the barista, whose name was Nicola, and say, "Hey – I have an odd question for you. Do you have security cameras imbedded in your business sign on your storefront."

"Why?" Nicola replied with a frown.

Blake leaned against the counter and lowered her voice as if she were discussing something of a secret. Slowly, Red surveyed the café, looking for any indication that people were trying to listen in but there was nothing. The humans seemed to only be interested with matters pertaining to their own lives.