The Tracker's Secret: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 2) by Ingrid Seymour (the gingerbread man read aloud .txt) 📗

“There were cameras. Maybe there are recordings that show people going in and out of the warehouse.”

“Yeah, we checked those but there were no recordings. Digital forensics is checking the hard drive to see if they can recover something.”

Had the cameras only been for show? Or maybe whoever had helped Blake had enough time to also delete the surveillance files.

“You should go home, kid. Get some rest.”

I nodded, feeling like all our efforts had been for nothing. “Rosalina will be here soon.”

After giving a statement, I’d called her to let her know I was all right, and she had insisted on coming here to make sure.

I met Tom’s dark eyes over the desk. “Are you sure Jake is all right?”

“Yes, the paramedics started healing him right away. He’s a tough sucker. He’ll probably be back on his feet by tomorrow. Lucky bastard. My leg still feels weird sometimes.” He rubbed it under his desk. The donut explosion had taken it right off, and the healers and doctors had reattached it, though it hadn’t been an easy recovery for him.

I stood, my shoulders heavy with exhaustion. “It would take a huge wolf to do that to Jake,” I said. “Just think about that.”

He rubbed his goatee, pondering. “Yeah, for sure. We’ll catch him, whoever he is.”

“It was Blake, Tom. You have to believe me.”

“We’re still keeping an eye out for him, so if he is out there, someone’s gonna spot him, and we’ll bring him in.”

“You from Missouri, Tom?” I gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Something like that,” he chuckled. “Besides, something’s up with you, little lady. You’re not telling me the whole truth.”

I put on an injured expression. “Why would you say that?”

Tom crossed his arms and huffed. “Your clothes look like they went through an industrial shredder. And there’s barely any blood on them. Something doesn’t add up. I’m no fool.” He tapped his nose.

Rubbing my neck, I exhaled in resignation. “You’re right. You’re right.”

I had no reason to hide the truth from Tom. I was only doing it because I’d gotten caught up in all the lies, but it would actually be a relief to be able to tell someone other than Rosalina. “How about some coffee one day this week? I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Sign me up, then maybe I can start believing everything else.”

Chapter 32

LATER THAT MORNING, as soon as I woke up, I called Jake’s cell but got no answer. I tried the hospital next, but they said he’d already been discharged. Tom had been right about Jake recovering quickly. His injuries had been major, and he must have required both doctors and healers to work on him to stitch him up, but his shifter healing powers had surely done most of the heavy lifting.

Not knowing what else to do, I sent Jake a text, asking if I could come and see him, wherever he was. I waited for an answer, sitting on my bed, but none came.

Rubbing my eyes, I got out of bed and went into the shower, grateful I didn’t have an appointment with Eric since it was Saturday. There was no way I could’ve made it there by 4 AM.

Rosalina’s bedroom door was still closed, and I hoped she was snoozing away placidly and would doze until noon. Last night, she hadn’t slept from the moment Jake and I left to go find Blake. Instead, she’d paced up and down the apartment, nervously eating potato chips like there was no tomorrow.

“Two bags, Toni. I ate two damn bags!” she’d said, holding two fingers up to my nose. “If my clothes stop fitting, it will be your fault.”

God, the things I put her through. It wasn’t fair.

After getting undressed, I got on tiptoes and checked my back in the mirror. To my surprise and relief, there were no signs that a vicious werewolf had tried to turn me into confetti—not even the tiniest of scars.

Wow! I couldn’t help but be impressed by my own healing abilities.

I’m a badass.

I whirled on the mirror and, wearing a fierce expression, thrust my hand forward, willing my claws to spring out. Nothing happened. I frowned at my fingers and normal-looking nails. I coiled my fingers into a fist, then let them spring out, willing my claws to make an appearance. Still nothing.

Disgusted, I got in the shower, determined to get Eric to show me how to do that trick. The hot water loosened my muscles, and I stayed under the spray for several extra minutes. Feeling renewed, I stepped out and immediately applied my poop perfume. I endured the stink until it dissipated, telling myself I wouldn’t be needing it much longer.

As I was towel-drying my hair, my phone rang. I picked it up in a hurry and was relieved to see the name on the caller ID.

“Jake, so glad you called back. How are you?”

“I’m good. How about you?” There was concern in his question.

“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

There was a rustle, then he groaned. “Sorry, I’m still a little sore,” he said. “They told me you stopped Blake.”

I nodded as if he could see me. “Yeah. Um, I shot him. The wolfsbane was the only thing that saved me, he got away, though. Someone helped him.”

“There was a second werewolf there. He joined Blake after you ran,” he said.

“What?! No one told me that.” I wrapped the towel around my body, hurried to my room, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the dresser.

“I told the police in the hospital when they took my statement once I was conscious.”

“Any idea who it was?”

“No, I didn’t even get a scent. He was masking it like we were.”

“Damn!” I cursed. “He must have been the one who helped Blake escape. There’s no other way he could have walked away on his own. The wolfsbane had completely knocked him out.” Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, I tried to get dressed, but it was awkward