Free Heart of the Wolf by D. B. Reynolds

old man didn’t want Kathryn to get any of his money.”
    “Jesus, that’s cold.”
    “Yeah, well, by all accounts, Avinger was a pretty cold guy.”
    “How does Westgate come into it?”
    “He drew up the contract. He also set up an escrow account to pay the killer. It went active the minute Avinger died.”
    “Can you prove it?”
    “I wouldn’t be calling you if I couldn’t. I’m outside the city right now, but I’ll messenger the documents over when I get back. You might want to move fast on Westgate, though. He strikes me as a runner.”
    “Where’d you get this stuff?”
    “Let’s just say certain parties were motivated to share.”
    “I have no idea what you mean by that. And please don’t feel you need to explain. Will you be around if I have questions?”
    “Probably not,” Ren said and heard Maietta sigh.
    “I take it these mysterious documents of yours are pretty conclusive.”
    “You could say that.”
    “Fine,” the detective said in a resigned voice. “No offense, Roesner, but I hope we never see each other again.”
    “None taken, Detective. And the feeling’s mutual.”
    Ren disconnected and shoved his car into gear. He had to get back to the city and messenger the docs over to the cops—after making copies for himself, of course. And then, the real hunt would begin. Westgate was taken care of. The cops would see to that. But the killer was still out there.
     

Chapter Twelve

    On his way back to the city, he called Paul Jorgens, his former commander at Clanhome and Dom Bartek’s head of security.
    “Gerry Edmonds ?” Jorgens said. “Fuck me, Roesner, where’d you hear that name?”
    “You know him?”
    “I know of him. He’s a bounty hunter. If he’s in town, it’s bad news. What’s this…ah, shit, is that who’s after Kathryn? Damn it, Ren, she’s got no one with her. I’ll send—”
    “She’s got me.”
    “No offense, but that might not be enough. Dom—”
    “I’m all she’s got. Let’s hope it is enough.”
    He disconnected and almost threw the phone onto the seat next to him, catching it in his fingers at the last minute when it started ringing.
    “Yeah.”
    “Roesner, thank God. She’s gone. She was supposed to be taking a nap. I swear I was right outside, but when I went to check—”
    “Slow down, Tommy.”
    “Kathryn’s gone. Probably to the country house. She must’ve gone down the back stairs. She hates—”
    Ren slammed his fist against the steering wheel and cursed loudly.
    Tommy was still talking, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s the full moon tonight.”
    “Give me the damn address,” Ren said through his teeth.
    Tommy started to rattle off an address, but Ren stopped him. “Hold on, hold on.” He punched up his
GPS
. “Okay. Say it again.”
    He entered the address, watched the map come up, and threw the phone down, freeing both hands for a sliding one-eighty-degree turn on the ice-slicked road. The tires spun uselessly for a few tense seconds before finally digging in as the Mercedes leaped forward.
    Ren picked up the phone again. “This isn’t good, Tommy. I’ve got a name on the shooter who’s after her, and he won’t be stopped by a little weather. Look—” He paused as the
GPS
started talking to him, giving him directions to Kathryn’s country house. He caught the sign for his next turn barely sticking up out of the snowdrift and made the turn one-handed, leaving a fan of tire marks behind.
    “I’m already across the bay and heading after her. How long do you think she’s been gone?”
    “Can’t be more than an hour, but, Roesner, in this weather—I mean, she hardly ever drives. She took the four-wheel at least, but—”
    “Her cell?”
    “She must’ve turned it off. No signal.”
    “Perfect. Look, it’ll be dark by the time I get there, especially with this storm. I’ll call you when I know something. But, Tommy?”
    “Yeah?”
    “It might be a while, I mean…” He couldn’t make himself