Alpha Micah Black: Homecoming

Chapter5

February 25th, 6: 30 AM, Blackwater Industries, Inc. construction site

The morning sun slowly made its way above the horizon, cutting through the morning fog. George and I sat in the SUV across from the construction site, finishing our takeout breakfast. My large black coffee was nice and hot. George slurped his frozen frappé. He either has a sweet tooth or his new girlfriend has influenced his tastes. Crumbs from my steak, egg, and cheese bagel fell on my regulation tie. This is just one more reason I loathe wearing them.

“There are napkins in the glove compartment,” George stated with the straw hanging from his lips.

“Thanks.”

Pulling the napkins out of the glove compartment, Thomas Peterson’s vehicle pulled into the construction site’s lot. The new building was moving along nicely. It looks different from the last time Wolfdale City PD paid a visit. My cousin should be proud of this accomplishment. Walls, a roof, and windows were in place. Despite his recent detainment, his workers were able to get the building near completion. George slowly pulled our SUV from our spot and parked it behind his vehicle. Needless to say, Thomas wasn’t thrilled with our presence.

“Now what?! I didn’t do anything,” he yelled out with his window partially cracked.

“Is there something else going on that Mr. Blackwater should be aware of?” I inquired about the shady deflection.

“Uh…,” Thomas sheepishly began. “That isn’t why you’re here, is it?”

“Nope,” I answered, popping the p like the asshole I am. “We just need to ask you more questions about the incident you called in yesterday.”

“Oh, okay,” Thomas stated, letting out a long sigh of relief. “We can use the office trailer for privacy,” he suggested.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said.

Getting out of his vehicle, and then locking it, he led George and me toward the office trailer. It was a small rectangular box that sat upon wheels. Climbing the stairs, Thomas unlocked the door. He flipped on the lights and placed his keys and coffee thermos on the desk.

“So…what else do you need to know?” Thomas asked first.

“Mostly…did you and Rocky see the person of interest?” I pressed him for an answer.

Thomas plopped in his office chair, moving it backward a little, and let out another hard sigh. He rubbed his face with his hands.

“Yeah…we saw…it,” he confessed. “I couldn’t exactly tell you everything then. There were too many people around.”

“Right,” I agreed.

“Should I be concerned? Is it still on the loose? Is Rocky in any danger?” Thomas fired off more questions. His face looked paler with each question he asked.

“Whoa, slow down…breathe, Mr. Peterson,” George politely reminded him.

“We caught him, and he is in our custody,” I informed him. “No one is in any danger.”

“Thank g-d,” he uttered. “I don’t think I could take another night with Rocky’s nightmares.”

“What kind of nightmares?” I asked, concerned in my voice. Entering Uncle Mike mode.

“He keeps going on about him turning into a wolf and then hurting people,” Thomas mumbled. “I don’t know how to comfort him. That was always his mother’s expertise,” he bemoaned. “Mike, I’m sorry…I didn’t know. I thought she left that life behind—”

An agitation stirred from within me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Why wasn’t Rocky’s mother comforting him? Did my partner, Cassidy Peterson, abandon her family? There’s no way she would do such a thing. She loves her family. And what former life was Thomas talking about concerning Cass? Too many thoughts swirled around in my head, causing me to feel woozy again.

“I need some fresh air,” I mumbled abruptly, excusing myself out the door.

The cool morning air slapped my face, but no relief came. The woozy remained. Grabbing the railing, so I wouldn’t fall, I tried summoning my wolf for help. But the arrival of other workers interrupted the process. f**k.

“Are you okay, Sergeant?” George asked, coming out of Thomas’ office.

“Peachy,” I replied sarcastically. “Let’s head back to the station and see if forensics has come up with any new leads.”

9: 14 AM, Wolfdale City Police Department parking lot

George pulled the SUV into its assigned spot. He placed it in the parking position and let out a hard sigh.

“Sergeant, do I have your permission to speak frankly with you?” George inquired, shifting in his seat to face me.

“Yeah, go ahead. What’s bothering you?”

“What the hell is going on with you, Mike?!” he blurted out, having the same look of confusion as before.

“Whadda ya mean? What’s going on with me?” I barked back.

“You’ve been acting strangely since we paid Hanna and Dylan a visit last night,” he stated.

“No, I haven’t,” I retorted, obviously in denial. “We need to get inside and check in with forensics.”

Wolfdale City Forensics Lab

The minions were busy working on getting any information they could from the evidence gathered at the scene. Demon and Cerber-nerd were nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Demi and Ray?” I asked another minion.

She pointed her finger toward the evidence lockers without looking up from her task.

“Thanks,” George muttered.

We politely excused ourselves and headed to the area of interest. Demon and Cerber-nerd were on the floor, asleep with their backs against the locker. Our furry suspect was safely curled up near the forensic minions in his special holding cell. They looked cute, snuggled up together. But don’t tell them I said that.

Cerber-nerd, ahem, Raymond, held some papers in his hand. Maybe they had a breakthrough with identifying who our furry suspect is or was.

“Hey,” I quietly spoke, nudging him awake.

“Uh,” he uttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Any success with our POI?” I bluntly asked, pointing at the papers.

“Oh, not exactly,” he replied, shuffling to sit straighter. His movements caused Demi to stir from her sleep.

“Uh, what time is it?” Demon inquired groggily, sitting up and stretching the sleep from her body.

“About twenty minutes until ten,” George answered after taking a glance at his watch.

“Please don’t tell Chief Edwards about this,” she begged, pointing to herself and Raymond. “It’s been a hard, long night.”

“We can relate,” George retorted.

George and I helped lift Cerber-nerd and Demon off the floor. They quickly brushed themselves off and motioned for us to follow them. They led us back into a small storage area. Discussing our furry POI is a delicate matter. The room had lower and upper cabinets, a few bar stools, and a mid-size refrigerator. I can only assume this is the minions’ break room.

“So…what were you able to figure out?” I began the inquiry.

“Not much…,” Demon stated. She let out a frustrated sigh, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Each time we get close to having a breakthrough, he’d clam up and cower in terror.”

“Clam up and cower in terror?” I repeated to no one in particular.

My thoughts immediately went to my interview with Knapelli, I mean Eugene McDermitt. Maybe I should question him again. He did show signs of terror whenever The Roundhouse was brought up. I believe he knows more than he wants to let on.

“When would he clam up? What prompts did you use?” I pressed the minions for more information.

“He did recognize the logo of Wolfdale City University,” Cerber-nerd stated in his matter-of-fact manner.

“It’s a lead regardless,” George commented.

“Who do you think we should interview there?” I asked George.

He’s a good detective. Don’t get me wrong. He’s come a long way. I’m still confused about Cass’s absence, though. It’s not like her to miss a day’s work.

“I don’t know…the Dean of Students maybe?”

“Eh, it can’t hurt.” Turning to the minions, I continued, “Thanks for what you could get. Keep trying. Maybe something might click. And contact us as soon as you find anything out.”

“Will do, Sergeant,” Demon spoke first.

10: 04 AM, Homicide Division

“Dammit! I left my coffee in the SUV,” I grumbled, plopping in my chair.

George snickered as he sat. A box filled with old files, random notes, and children’s books sat on a desk near him.

“You can always make a fresh pot,” he retorted, pointing in the direction of the community coffee maker.

“Har-har…smartass.”

George quickly went to work looking for the phone number for Wolfdale City University’s Dean of Students. I caved in and decided to make a fresh pot of coffee. Standing up, another subtle, icy breeze moved past me. Plop! The same photo fell to the floor. I picked it up, placed it back on the board, and went to make coffee.

Twenty minutes later

Captain Winston was waiting for me when I meandered into the homicide hovel office area. George hung up the phone with someone at the university. He rubbed the stubble on his face and sighed.

“Well…any success?” Captain Winston pressed George for an answer.

“We have a small frame in which she can talk with us,” he grumbled.

“And when would that be?” I inquired, sipping my coffee.

“Between one and two pm,” George replied.

“Okay, that would work out. Now, go home, get showered, and change your clothes.” Captain Winston gave his command. “Let’s not give Jabberwocky or the bigwigs at the university an excuse to complain.”