Page 52 of Butterfly Assassin
NO MORE bodies turned up over the weekend, and Michael managed to spend his two days off doing odd jobs around the house. Ones he’d been putting off for far too long. He also managed to keep thoughts of Aaron to a minimum. It was funny how having to cope with a flooded kitchen floor kept his mind off it.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, Michael was pretty sure he’d got his little crush under control and could at least get through this case without risk of jeopardising it.
Frank was already at his desk when Michael arrived and so was most of the team. Stewart came in a few minutes after him, and as he did so, Arlington came out of his office and stood in the doorway. “Now that you’re all here.” He ducked back in and appeared again holding a blue folder. “Alpha Wallace called me first thing this morning.” The whole room sat up straighter. “She’s been contacted by a pack from Nottinghamshire.” He opened the folder and scanned one of the pages inside. “Alpha Yates of the Clumber Park pack. About a missing member of their pack. ADaleWilson.”
Oh. Michael’s heart rate ticked up, and he leaned forward a little, eager for more information. “How long has he been missing?”
Arlington’s smile was grim. “Just over four weeks.”
Before the first murder. That would be too easy, surely? “Why didn’t they report him missing before now?”
“You know they don’t like to involve us in their affairs unless they absolutely have to.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair, looking tired. Michael wondered what sort of conversation that had been with Alpha Wallace. “Apparently, Wilson was answering text messages until just over a week ago, but then stopped suddenly. Two members of his pack came to look for him, with the London packs’ permission, but have found nothing so far.”
“Nice of them to let us know,” Frank grumbled. “It’s not as though we have a shifter running around killing people or anything.”
“I understand how you feel, Coldwell, but Alpha Wallace assures me she’s only now become aware of this and notified me as soon as she found out.”
“You believe her?”
“I have no reason not to. While I might not agree with all of their methods, the alpha council have never lied to us.” He smiled, a little more genuinely this time. “If she’d held onto the information for any reason, I believe she would’ve told me that too.”
Michael agreed with him. The alpha council had some odd ways of doing things—well, odd to Michael. But he’d never known them to lie.
“Okay, so what do we know about this Dale Wilson?” Michael eyed the folder in Arlington’s hand, itching to take a look at it.
“He’s six feet four, white, with short, dark hair and brown eyes.”
Michael rolled his eyes, “That could be half the shifters in the city. No photo?”
Arlington shook his head. “Only the one from his ID badge, but it’s due for renewal and isn’t the clearest. I’ve requested a more up-to-date one. Alpha Wallace assures me she’ll have one by tomorrow.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can speak to his pack ourselves?”
“Not at the moment. Alpha Wallace will be here tomorrow. She’s aware of the significance this could have for our case and wants to discuss it in person. For now, she’s our liaison to the Clumber Park pack.”
“What about Harper and Nash? Do we carry on with our investigation into Daryl White, aka Mr Smith? Or do we wait and see where this new information leads us?” Michael held his breath waiting for the answer, not sure what he was hoping for most.
Arlington seemed to consider it for a moment, then frowned. “Carry on as you were for the time being. White may or may not be involved, and if this”—he tapped the folder—“turns out to be unrelated, I don’t want to have lost time looking into him.”
“Yes, sir.” Something akin to relief rushed through Michael, and he realised with a start he was actually looking forward to seeing Aaron fight. He swallowed and pushed that thought to the back of his mind to examine later.
“In the meantime, I want everyone to be on the lookout for a shifter they don’t recognise. Ask around your contacts in the packs. I know it’s a long shot. The council will likely have done the same, but you never know. You might jog someone’s memory.” He held the file out to Michael.
“Read it and pass it around. We’ll have a meeting in the conference room tomorrow when the council members arrive. I want everyone up to speed on the missing shifter.”
A chorus of “Yes, sirs” sounded around the room. Arlington nodded and disappeared back into his office.
Michael laid the file on his desk and flipped it open with Frank, Stewart, and Bridgford looking over his shoulder. “You know you can have it when I’m done, right?” They all ignored him.
Christ.There wasn’t much to go on.
The first page listed his name, age (twenty-six), pack, and pack status. Wilson had just been made a beta. Reading a little further, Michael noted he’d been named beta but hadn’t gone through the ceremony yet, so no extra beta strength. Not that he’d need it to kill a human. And not that Michael was jumping to conclusions.
A photocopied version of his ID card sat halfway down the page—grainy and a little blurred. He squinted, trying to see if that made a difference, but it didn’t. The guy in the photo looked about eighteen if Michael had to hazard a guess. If he was twenty-six now, his appearance could have changed in all sorts of ways.
The second page held only slightly more information. Michael presumed this had all come from the alpha council after they’d spoken to Wilson’s pack. According to them, Wilson had come to London to meet up with some friends and go to a concert. From there he was due to go to the south coast for a few days before returning to his pack.
“Look at this,” Michael said, pointing to the second paragraph. “It states that he met up with his friends and went to the concert, and according to them, he left London the next day.”
