His eyes narrowed as he stared at the back door. “Kristen, get the DA. Let him know we need that subpoena yesterday.”
Ben kissed the rest of his vacation good-bye and got ready for his business of murder. Murder—just what he did best and—
Voices. Shouting, the snarls of fury drifting on the wind.
His stare snapped to Kristen’s. What the f**k?
He vaulted off the back porch. She was with him, her smaller body hurtling behind his.
They rounded the house. Good, more police tape was up. That should keep the gawkers back, for a while anyway.
“Get out of my way! Don’t you know who I am?” An ass**le was all but screaming at one of the uniforms, shoving a long, thick finger at the young guy’s chest. “I’m—”
“Judge Lance Harper.” Bastard extraordinaire. Ben braked to a halt and glared at the idiot who would no doubt be headlining the local news for the next three days.
The judge’s head jerked toward him and his muddy brown eyes slit. “Greer.” Sounded more like a curse than a name because, yeah, there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of love lost between him and the judge, arrogant SOB that the guy was.
Ben braced his hands on his waist, knowing the move would show his holster. Shooting the judge probably wasn’t an option, but a man could dream.
Oh, yes, he could dream.
“I’ve got this one,” Ben said to the uniform. “Langley”—Kristen’s gaze was on the judge—“go make that phone call.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her head bob and then she backed away.
The judge’s hands fisted. “I demand that you tell me what is going on here.”
“Ah, you demand, huh? Since when do you have the right to demand anything at my crime scene?” What was the guy even doing there? No way was this the man’s business anymore.
A muscle flexed along Harper’s jaw. “Cartwright told me about the body on the property.”
Did no one in this city believe in keeping things under wraps? This was a murder for shit’s sake! “His mistake,” Ben managed, the words grating in his throat.
“It was my case, detective. The man was in my courtroom, he was—”
“You let him walk.” A mistake. Not Harper’s first, not his last, and the judge’s insanity on the bench was only part of the reason why Ben couldn’t stand the guy.
The other reason? Ben had once had a lover leave him…for the judge. The guy might be old, but the bastard was hell with the ladies.
Very slowly, Harper’s fists unknotted. “You think you know me, don’t you, detective?”
No, he didn’t know him particularly well. Didn’t want to, either. “I’m working a murder, Harper. I don’t have time for your games.”
Harper’s chin rose. “I didn’t want to let that bastard walk, but I had no choice.” He shook his head. “When the wife changed her story, what was I supposed to do? There wasn’t enough evidence to hold him.”
“You know he probably killed Sylvia, don’t you?” Ben fired right across his words. “He walked and he killed her.” That knowledge had burned in Ben’s gut more nights than he could count.
Harper’s Adam’s Apple bobbed. “I-I know.” A rasp. Remorse? What? From Harper? Their eyes locked. “What I do in this world isn’t easy,” Harper said. “Justice never is.”
Ben thought of those dirty bones. Of the boys who’d grow up without their mother or their worthless excuse for a father.
“Go home. There’s nothing left for you here. This isn’t your case anymore.”
Harper’s gaze drifted to the house. “No—no, I don’t guess it is.” His shoulders slumped and he turned away.
For an instant, Ben could almost feel a stir of sympathy for the fellow. Almost.
Then the instant passed. He wheeled around. Back to business. “All right, people, I want this scene combed for every bit of evidence you can find. We’ve got a body, and we’re damn well gonna find his killer.” Because Ben didn’t believe in letting monsters walk. Not in his town.
Even if the vic had been a cold-blooded ass**le, he’d find Trent’s killer. That was his job.
He was good at his job.
“What are you doing here?” Erin stared at her mother—oh, damn, her mother—and kept every muscle in her body locked tight.
Not going to her.
Not going to hold her.
Not going to hit her. Not!
“I came to see you.” Flat. No emotion there. Never had been. That one eyebrow rose again. “Can I come in or do I have to stand out here all night?”
Leave.
“Come in,” Jude growled. “But at the first sign of a shift, your ass is gone.”
She sniffed and crossed the threshold. “I can’t talk to my daughter in wolf form. She doesn’t change—”
“Yeah, I f**king know. Big damn deal.” Jude shut the door behind her. Too quietly. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared.
Her mother—Theresa—blinked and glanced over at Erin. “You told him? And he’s still with you?”
Oh, yes, her mother was full of love and maternal instincts.
Erin felt her blood heat. “He’s still here.”
“Standing here, big as day,” Jude murmured. “Not planning to go anyplace.”
In a flash, her mother attacked, jumping back, and thrusting her claws right up to Jude’s throat. “Don’t even think about hurting her. Just ’cause she’s weak, you can’t—”
“Get away from him.” Not screamed. Not shouted. Erin gave the demand coldly, despite the fire in her gut, and she felt the rip of her claws tearing through her flesh.
Her mother’s head swung toward her. “Erin? What are you—”
Jude threw her back. A hard toss with his hand that had Theresa flying through the air and slamming into the floor. She scrambled up, fast, crouching, snarling and spitting.
Erin hurriedly stepped in front of Jude. “Don’t come at him again.”
Her mother’s face went slack with surprise.
Looking at her hurt. Erin sucked in a breath. “I don’t know why you’re here, and I really don’t care.” Lie, lie. “But you are not going to attack Jude. He’s done nothing but help me, and he doesn’t deserve that shit.”
Yellow eyes slit. “You care for him?”
The silence behind her was thick. Good thing Jude couldn’t see her face right them. “What I feel for him is not your business.”