Pride
Page 40

 Rachel Vincent

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“They’re gone,” Galloway insisted. The firm line of his mouth told me how serious he considered the situation, and the fact that Marc had been attacked twice now told me the other strays were taking it just as seriously.
Figures. It would take disaster to draw strays together.
“How long has this been going on?”
Galloway glanced at Dan again for help. “A month?”
Dan nodded, but I was unconvinced. “Marc’s been here for more than two months,” I snapped. “Your theory’s about as watertight as the Titanic.”
“All I know is this wasn’t going on before he got here.” Galloway shrugged, unbothered by my skepticism.
“So, you guys think Marc’s behind this series of disappearances, so you tried to kill him.” But something was nagging at the back of my mind. “Why do it with all of us around? He’s here alone day after day, but you waited to attack until he had serious backup.”
Galloway huffed in frustration. “Pete said it would make a statement. You and your boys were supposed to be there as witnesses, to go back and tell your dad that we’re not going to be messed with anymore. That if there’s power in numbers, we have it now, too. But that kind of backfired on us.”
Damn right.
Ethan sank onto the futon next to me, now that it was clear that Galloway posed no threat. “So, you guys admit to trying to kill Marc. But not to taking him?”
Galloway rolled small, dark eyes. “Because we didn’t take him. If one of us had done this, they’d have left the body. That message, again.”
But I was following Ethan’s logic, even if our unwilling host wasn’t. “Well, I can guarantee you that Marc isn’t behind those other disappearances. So doesn’t it stand to reason that whoever took those other toms probably took Marc, too?”
Dan nodded, and after a second to think it over, even Galloway looked half-convinced, if startled by the possibility. “But why?”
“Good question. And I have an even better one.” I turned to Parker with one hand outstretched. “Let me have the sample.”
Parker pulled the plastic bag from his bulging back pocket and handed it over. I opened the seal and leaned forward to hold the bag in front of our host’s face. “Do you recognize this scent?”
Galloway leaned forward and sniffed dramatically, and recognition showed clearly on his features. For a moment, I thought he might resist answering again. But then he simply met my gaze and nodded. “Adam Eckard. Where did you get this? Is he dead?”
“No, but these two are.” I handed the sample to Parker and leaned back on the futon to dig a scrap of paper from my right hip pocket, then gave it to Galloway, who unfolded it and read with a blank expression. “Did you know them?”
“Not personally,” he said, handing the paper back. “Why?”
“Two hours ago, we dragged their corpses from Marc’s living room floor. That’s his carpet soaked in Eckard’s blood.”
Galloway blinked at me while he processed the new information. “They went after Marc?”
I nodded. “These two died in the fight.” I held up the scrap of paper. “And Eckard dragged Marc across his own lawn and shoved him into a car, then drove off with him. That surprises you?”
“Yeah.” Galloway nodded, and his forehead furrowed with confusion. “They were all three with me in the second group on Friday night. We were stationed farther down the road, because we weren’t sure where the car would actually break down. But we were supposed to kill Marc in front of you. Not take him. I haven’t heard anything more about any of it since then. And I have no idea why they’d take those other toms.” Which we all now seemed to believe was the case. “They’re strays, just like the rest of us.”
I believed him. I didn’t want to, but he was too tired, too stressed and too bad an actor to lie his way out of this one.
“You have a pen?” I asked Ethan. My brother pulled a wallet-size pen from his pocket and handed it to me, along with a mini-notepad. I gave them both to Galloway. “I need the names of the other missing toms.”
Galloway took the pen and paper without argument. “You guys took down fifteen or so of us on Friday night, and rumor has it Marc got off with little more than a scratch from the whole thing.” He met my eyes, his own dulled by bleak fear. “So if they can get Marc, what’s to stop them from getting any one of the rest of us?”
I gave him a grim smile as he sat with his pen poised over the paper. “We are.”
Eleven
I called my dad on the drive back to Marc’s house, both to give him the requested update, and because Galloway hadn’t known Adam Eckard’s address.
“Hello?” my father croaked into my ear, as Parker turned left onto a small country highway.
“It’s me. Did I wake you up?”
“I was just dozing.” Leather creaked, and I pictured my father sitting up on the sofa in his office. “You have a report?”
“Yeah. We just spoke to Hooper Galloway, at the address you gave us.”
“Good.” He sounded more awake now, and his socked feet brushed softly against the floor. “Injuries?”
I grinned, though only Ethan could see my face in the passing glow from a streetlight. “Nothing but Galloway’s pride.”
“Collateral damage?”
“One storm door.” Ethan returned my grin.