Beautiful Creatures Series
Chapter 57: 15

Chapter 57: 15

Three months later…

Things had been quiet since Melissa fled Feral. Gordon was on edge the whole time, worrying thatMelissa was up to something. It was not like her just to give up. She was bat shit crazy, and he wascertain his last encounter her with was his last. She was like a demon hiding in the shadows waiting forthe right time to show up and make things worse.

Things in Feral had returned to business as usual. Gordon returned to work, and Mackenzie spentmuch of her time at the shop with him, discussing wedding plans while he worked. After the last closecall, Mackenzie never ventured far from Gordon. She was always within earshot.

The baby had doubled in size, and Mackenzie’s belly was large, round, and hard. Gordon andMackenzie would theorize on the sex of the baby. Mackenzie was hoping for a girl, whereas Gordonwas almost certain by the size of her belly at six months that the baby was a boy. Or so he hoped. Hehad a daughter, and Gordon could not think of anything better than having a son. Someone he could gofishing with and do guy things. Sure, he had taken Aster fishing and hunting, but as much as he lovedhis daughter, it was not the same as having a boy.

Planning the wedding kept Mackenzie happily occupied. She was in her element. It made Gordonhappy to see Mackenzie so contented.

The chime above his door alerted Gordon to Mackenzie’s return. She had wandered down the street tothe grocery store to pick up something for lunch. There was an entire small section that had ready-made sandwiches and subs that Aurora made at the start of each day and sold. Mackenzie hadbrought back two. She came into the back room with a bag of sandwiches and two drinks. As she camein, she walked up to him and kissed his lips, then looked at his work. He had spent the last two hoursfinishing a tattoo that had taken twelve hours spread out over six days. He was just putting the finishingtouches on it.

“That looks great,” she said, standing next to the tattoo chair as Gordon sprayed it with saline solutionthen gently wiped it clean with a soft disposable rag.

“And we are done,” Gordon said as the man got up. Gordon walked him over to the full-length mirrormounted on the wall so the client could get a good unobstructed view of his new tattoo.

“Damn, you do great work,” the man said, admiring his new ink.

“Thank you. Follow me, and we can settle the fee,” Gordon took the client to the front room and rung upthe cost of the tattoo along with the cost of some care products to help the man keep it clean while ithealed and avoid a staph infection. The man paid with a credit card and thanked Gordon one last timeas he left.

With his business concluded, Gordon went back to clean up. He found Mackenzie already cleaning up.They sterilized everything except his needle, which he removed from the machine completely andthrew out. For health and safety, he never used the same needle twice. Responsible tattoo artists neverdid. Then again, there were the occasional unscrupulous shop owners who cleaned and reused oldneedles. It was unconscionable, but it did happen; the customers were the ones who paid the pricewhen they contracted infections or worse.

Once things were clean, they sat down together and enjoyed their lunch while they waited for the nextappointment to arrive. This afternoon the baby was fairly active. Mackenzie told him the baby waskicking like crazy, which Gordon took as a good sign. During their lunch, Gordon sat next to Mackenziewith both his hands on her belly so he could feel his child moving. When the baby kicked his hand,Gordon smiled. It was a good strong kick. “He’s strong.”

“She’s strong,” Mackenzie snickered.

“Naw, with a kick like that, it’s defiantly a boy.”

“You don’t think a girl can be strong?” She teased.

“I’m not going to get sucked into a gender war,” he chuckled. “I’ll love it no matter what it is, but I hopeit’s a boy. I already have one daughter.”

The chime from the door alerted them to someone coming into the shop. Gordon looked at the clock onthe wall and was confused. He was not expecting his next client for another forty minutes. He got upfrom his seat, and he walked to the front of the shop, where he was met by a man dressed in jeans anda leather jacket. He was a younger man, probably in his early thirties.

“Can I help you?” Gordon asked.

The man pulled the bottom of his open jacket aside, flashing Gordon a badge clipped to his belt on hisright hip. “I’m Detective Winthrop with the Colorado State Patrol. I’m investigating some strangeoccurrences on the highway this last year,” the man said, identifying himself as law enforcement.

The man did not look like a cop. He was a First Nation’s gentleman. His complexation was deeplybronzed, and his thin ebony hair was long but tied back. He was a fit man with broad shoulders andlong legs. He looked like he knew how to hold his own in a fight. He was awful young looking to be aplainclothes State Detective.

“Do you have time to answer some questions?” Detective Winthrop asked. It was clearly a rhetoricalquestion. Gordon did not believe he had a choice in the matter.

“Sure. Can we make it quick? I have another client coming in, and most of my clientele are bikers, andcops make them nervous.”

“No problem,” the Detective said. “I don’t know if you have heard, but there have been a few incidentson the highways around Feral mostly. People are getting run off the road. There has been someserious car wreckage.”

“Mountain roads are dangerous. Careless drivers die,” Gordon said, trying to sound disinterested.

“That is true,” Detective Winthrop agreed. “Thing about these specific wrecks is that the crash is notwhat is killing these people.”

“Oh?”

“The men in these accidents,” He said, making air quotes with his fingers to illustrate that he did notbelieve these accidents were accidents, “weren’t killed by the crashes. They were torn apart byanimals. In fact, one car showed evidence of an animal. The driver’s door and the trunk had beenripped off with massive claw marks in the metal. Something ripped open that car and dragged thevictim from the vehicle to kill him in the street.”

“Really?” Gordon acted surprised by the news.

“You know an animal like that must be massive and dangerous. You haven’t seen any strange animalsroaming around the area, have you?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you said that you were with the State Patrol. Isn’t this an Animal Control problem?”

“Well, here is the thing. I think someone is in possession of dangerous vicious dogs. I think they arerunning motorists off the road and using these dogs to kill the victims,” it was a very good theory.Completely wrong, but still a reasonable theory. “Do you know anyone who has dogs around here?”

Gordon took a deep breath and pretended to think about his answer. “No,” he finally said, “None that Iknow off.”

“You know the last victim was an FBI Agent. I think he died because he knew too much. He wasinvestigating a case and clearly uncovered something that got him killed. Someone around here is acop a killer.”

“I wish I could help you, but I don’t know anything. Feral is a fairly uneventful place,” both men stoodthere, their confident gaze holding the other, staring each other down. The cop was hoping to intimidateGordon into saying something to incriminate himself, but Gordon had a lifetime of experience coveringhis ass, and he did not break.

“What is going on, Baby?” Mackenzie asked, coming from the back when he had not come back.

“It is nothing,” Gordon said firmly. “Go back into the back room. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No, wait,” Detective Winthrop said, putting up his hand to stop her from leaving. “I want to ask her afew questions. First off, who are you?”

“My Fiancée,” Gordon answered.

“If you don’t mind, I want to hear her answers, not yours,” the cop scolded Gordon.

Gordon said nothing as he shared a warning glance with Mackenzie. It was a look he hoped sheunderstood to mean she was not to tell this man anything.

“Who are you?” Detective Winthrop asked again.

“I’m Mackenzie Starr.”

“Do you live around here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know anything about the recent automobile crashes on the highway around here?” She shookher head, no. “Do you know anyone who might own some large dogs?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“See, Detective, we don’t know anything,” Gordon stressed. “Now, if you don’t mind, we were in themiddle of lunch, and I’m expecting a client.”

“Alright,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. He removed a business cardand handed it to Gordon. “If either of you remembers anything, we haven’t already discussed. Pleasecall me.”

Gordon accepted the card. “Will do.”

The door opened, and the chimes sounded as Aster came into the shop. The Detective took one lookat Aster, and his gruff exterior softened as he smiled at her. Gordon knew the cop would likely stopAster and ask her the same questions.

“Hello,” Detective Winthrop smiled at Aster.

“Hello,” she smiled back.

Gordon cleared his throat. “Detective Winthrop, allow me to introduce my daughter Aster Wilder. Aster,honey, this is Detective Winthrop with the Colorado State Patrol.”

Gordon’s gaze held Aster’s for a moment, and then she smiled once more and shook the Detective’shand. “Nice to meet you, Detective.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Miss. Wilder,” he smiled back as he shook her hand.

“He is investigating some traffic fatalities around here,” Gordon informed his daughter. It was all he hadto say, and she understood completely.

“Do you know anything about them?” Detective Winthrop asked.

“I don’t watch the news. I replace it depressing.”

“Do you know anyone who might own some large dogs in the area?”

Aster pretended to think over his question. “No, sorry, I don’t. But I’m often working, so I don’t socializemuch.”

“What do you do for a living?” He asked.

“I own a bakery,” she said.

“In Feral?”

“In Aspen.”

“If that is everything, Detective, I’m sure my daughter came to see me. If you don’t mind leaving us toour business.”

“No, of course not,” he took out another business card and offered it to Aster. “If you think of anythingthat might be helpful, please call me.”

Aster accepted the card and smiled as the officer left the shop. Standing alone, Aster slipped thebusiness card into her pocket with a smile. “He’s cute for a cop,” she said with a crooked grin.

“Should we worry?” Mackenzie asked.

“No,” Gordon said. “As long as we don’t talk, he can’t prove we were involved.”

“What if he has evidence?” Mackenzie asked.

“What evidence? The only evidence he has is that an animal was involved. What is he going to tell hissuperiors? Monsters did it? He would be laughed at all the way to the department psychiatrist. As longas everyone holds their tongue, we have nothing to worry about.”

“Dad is right. Besides, we have other problems.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

Aster took out her cellphone and brought up some text messages to show her father. “Mom’s beenmessaging me?”

Gordon took the phone and read the messages. He could see all the messages where Melissa wastelling Aster to go on a vacation and come visit her in LA. Gordon could not help but notice how Melissainsisted she come right now and not tell anyone.

“She’s plotting something, isn’t she?”

“It certainly seems so,” he handed the phone back to Aster. “Spread the word. I think she’s going toshow her face again.”

“Do you think I should go to her? I could meet up with her and deal with her in LA.”

Gordon shook her head. “She’s not in LA,” he knew his wife all too well. She wanted her daughter faraway and safe before she showed her face and struck. Melissa was a viper. She was trying to lureAster to a safe place. Which meant she intended to do something big that would likely destroy thepack. Gordon refused to let that happen. From now on, he wanted patrols in the woods. All eyes openuntil they found Melissa. “No one goes anywhere alone. Melissa is in the wind, but I anticipatewhatever plan she has will be exposed soon.”

“Alright, I’ll spread the word,” Aster said, searching her contacts list, trying to decide who to talk to first.

“Aster, be careful. Your mother is dangerous and unpredictable. If she thinks you betrayed her, she’ll killyou too.”

“Not without a fight.”