A Tricky Encounter

They had asked Jack a few more questions and received answers. But the interrogation was interrupted for a few minutes. Jefferson Walsh had spilled the next bottle of sparkling water Tavares fetched for him. It was a slip up caused by the Sheriff's restlessness. The bottle had fallen to the floor in a thud and dragged all their attention. 

There was a growing pool on the floor. Some parts of the Sheriff's pants had caught the spill. Tavares rushed for a rag and soaked up the mess. Walsh exhaled once it was done. He lowered himself back on the sofa, but before his arse could touch the leather, a shrill scream came from outside. 

Charged, the Sheriff and his men within the van drew their pistols, gunning for the scene with speed. They emerged outside. It was a member of Grace's team that owned the scream. The one who had been taking photos. 

Seeing dead bodies was a forensic doctor's entire life, but the lady hadn't expected it. Her discovery was a hand, buried at the left-hand edge of the entrance, where a plank had it covered up. 

They began digging. Tavares took the lead. Nolan and Walsh stood close by, watching them uncover a body underneath the ground. Panning the dirt away, the dead body was brought to light under watchful eyes. 

Nolan saw the bald head, shaped like a mountain and the burly lifeless arms wrapped in a grey suit. It was Ortiz. They were too late. 

The buttons of his dress shirt were undone and the bluish-purple skin of his chest was visible to all of them. There was a mark on the area of his heart. Dry blood had been used as ink on his skin. It was a symbol that no one around knew except Nolan. Two angles; where the second overlapped the end of the first and the second angle's end made a sharp cut inside. He clenched his fists at the sight.

Grace crouched to examine the body. Her forehead creased into a deep frown. Things were spiralling out of hand. The situation that was messy had just gotten a lot worse than bleak. Nolan knew the mark on the man's skin was a message. It was a warning that something was coming for Boston City, something dangerous. 

"Sheriff, we need to move the bodies," Grace said, rising to her feet. 

Nolan saw the look in the chief's eyes. It was the one he got whenever crazy ideas whirled through his mind. He had known Walsh all his life, but only got the chance to work closely at his side two weeks ago.

The Sheriff crossed his arms to his chest and said, "No one leaves the premises under my watch. Not even in a body bag."

"Have you lost your mind?" 

"It's an order!" The Sheriff spoke over her. "Everyone stay put."

At the instant, the radio on Tavares' shoulder popped. He wiped his dirty hands on his pants and connected to the incoming frequency. It was Odin Rodriguez on the other end of the line and he had news.

Tavares said, "Are you certain?"

A second later, he turned it off and faced his chief. Walsh was already waiting, senses straining to know what had resulted from Rodriguez' mission.

"They'll restore the power in an hour."

The Sheriff's head fell at once. He pursed his lips so tight he could bruise himself. Meanwhile, Nolan's eyes had returned to the symbol on the bodyguard's chest. He got a second look at it and realized something only then. He was seeing things in a new light. It wasn't just any animal that was wrecking havoc. It was an animal from a pack he was familiar with. 

The veil was broken. That was certain. It also explained their discoveries. The claw found lodged inside Bryson Barnes wasn't a silly prank by some psychopath. He had caught the scent of wolves the second he entered the vicinity.

How. The only thing he could think about was how. How was the veil breached and who was the did it?

Nolan lifted his gaze and immediately caught the scrutinising stare of someone a few feet away. An ambulance crew member wearing their dark green uniform shirt and pants. Nolan didn't like his eyes. They appeared soulless. 

Anderson walked into the scene in line, pulling his attention away. He expected to see Driscoll with her, but no one followed. She came up to his side, acknowledging Walsh and him, then going for a rundown of her activities within the last thirty minutes. 

Walsh beat her to it. "Anderson, new task. Let's go." 

He gestured for them to come with him. Nolan blazed the trail back to the camper van. Jack Remington sat still as a board on the sofa, but Nolan had a hunch he had left to see who was behind the scream and ran back before anyone could notice.

"Foster, subject two briefed us about the renovations meant to take place tomorrow." He looked between his officers. "I have an idea." 

All attention piqued. Even Jack wasn't following. He couldn't understand why his name was still on the Sheriff's lips. He had told the man everything he knew and was expecting his release soon. 

"I need those construction trucks and materials here as soon as possible."

Sheriff Walsh was losing it, alright. His reason was that he had seen all of this happen before. When Nolan's father, Sheriff Ray Foster, died thirty years ago in a massacre he would never forget, his life wasn't the same anymore. This animal attack pandemic. He didn't think it would ever come back to hunt him, but now it was here, and unfortunately, he's the Sheriff on seat.

Anderson asked. "How, chief?" 

Walsh turned to Jack and Nolan understood the golden plan. The manager was to use his influences to keep the murders top secret and away from the cops and people. They were crossing legal boundaries. Nolan wondered if the Sheriff was aware his job wouldn't survive it in the end.

The Sheriff placed his palms on the plastic table and bent to look the manager in the eye. "How long will it take you to get me those trucks?"

Jack's gaze fleeted around, unstable and afraid. "Not long. I just need to make a few phone calls." 

"No." Walsh stood. "No phone calls. Anderson, I want him back here with the trucks and materials as fast as you can."

"B-but why? I've said everything I know."

"I gave the order. No one can leave until all of this blows over." Jack wanted to protest again, but Walsh spoke over him. "Take Tavares with you." 

"Rog."

The both officers left the van with Jack housed in their protection. They understood their mission was to not let him out of their sight and be as discreet as possible.

When it was Walsh and his deputy alone, Nolan said, "Is it really necessary?" 

"I'm doing my very best on these grounds, Foster." 

His deputy wore a slight smile on an empty face. "No doubt."

"We need more men. I have a gut feeling the current mayor isn't safe from all of this."

Hearing the Sheriff mention Marcel Knight got the better of Nolan. "I'd like to handle that myself!"

The Sheriff eyed his deputy's eagerness strangely, but eased it off and patted him on the back. Grace stood outside the van, waiting for Walsh. 

Driscoll was back. 

Nolan saw the man following his lead. He couldn't stop himself from staring. He was drawn to the dark energy from a mile away. Declan Meruda was tall and lean built. The deputy Sheriff didn't picture the husband as the light-skinned black American approaching. Walsh quit his talk with Grace. Nolan joined him outside the van, waiting for their guest.

Declan made a beeline for the ambulance where his wife was and wrapped her in a warm hug. Nolan watched the way Naomi relaxed into his hold. The corner of his lip twitched as he clenched his jaw so hard. He felt punched in the gut at the sight. She was taken already, a newlywed at that, but it didn't stop him from feeling protective of this woman.

"Took you long enough, Driscoll."

The officer lowered his gaze from his chief and said, "Mr. Meruda said something interesting. I thought I should confirm it first before reporting back to you."

"What's that?" Nolan asked. 

Declan Meruda met them while holding Naomi's hand tight in his. "My wife is a sleepwalker." 

It didn't cross their minds, not one bit. But the possibility that someone could sleepwalk to the middle of a crime scene and remember nothing was low. Nolan tipped his head to the side, waiting for more light.

"I checked footage from the control room, chief. I saw Mrs. Meruda leave the hotel, appearing dazed. She was definitely sleepwalking."

Nolan was looking at Declan. The husband was looking at him back. When Driscoll finished speaking, he smiled vaguely and slipped a hand around Naomi's waist, pulling her closer. The deputy Sheriff followed the movement in one gaze. 

He wasn't seeing things. The fingers gripping Naomi's side had grown claws. Claws like the ones found lodged inside Bryson Barnes. Yet Nolan couldn't read this man staring back at him and refusing to look away. 

Walsh was saying something and before Declan could drag his eyes away and pay attention, a darkness as thick as night flashed in his eyes. 

Nolan's heartbeat quickened.