I ripped my gaze away from the million dollar view, and said, "Hello?"
The sound echoed, filling the warm silence with sound. Trepidation tripped across my skin and I shivered a little. Though why I suddenly felt something was out of place, I couldn't really say. My clairvoyance tended not to give out juicy little details like that.
I walked across the living room, my footsteps ringing on the shiny wooden floorboards. The kitchen was small but functional, the fridge filled with fruit, vegetables, meat, and wine. But there wasn't a piece of chocolate or a cookie in sight. How on earth did they cope with the midnight hungers?
I closed the fridge door, and headed up the hallway. There was a small laundry area—though it was more a laundry closet than an actual room—a bathroom, and three bedrooms.
Jodie Carr was in the third and largest of the bedrooms.
She was lying atop a queen-sized bed, the blankets tangled around her bare legs and her shirt and skirt darkened by sweat. Her breathing was uneven, her face an unhealthy shade, and there was puke all over her chin and the sheets.
I swore softly and called it in, then walked over to the bed. This close, she smelled of the urine and vomit that stained her and the coverlet—hence the sour smell. It was a wonder she hadn't choked to death.
After carefully pulling her onto her side, I lightly slapped her cheek, trying to get a response. I didn't know if she'd taken drugs or whether this was merely alcohol induced, and I had no idea how to treat either. Still, thank God I hadn't listened to the idiot downstairs and just left.
"Who is this?" a deep voice said from behind me.
I jumped and swung around, my fists clenching automatically.
Blake stood at the end of the bed, his arms crossed. His form seemed more solid than it had been up on the island. Perhaps it was easier to send his psyche into known areas.
"Her name is Jodie Carr," I said, then added, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Checking up on your progress. Why is this Carr woman in Adrienne's bed?"
"You tell me."
He glanced at me, gray eyes hinting at the anger that wasn't yet showing on his flat features. "Why would I know?"
"Well, she's been sharing the apartment with Adrienne for more than a year, and the pack does own the apartment." I hesitated, but couldn't help adding, "Or does the chief dog not know what goes on in his own kennel?"
His eyes narrowed to slits, and the sense of danger was suddenly very palpable. "Adrienne made no mention of sharing, nor was this person ever here when Patrin or I visited," he said, in a tight, edgy voice that suggested he knew—or guessed—a whole lot more than he was willing to say.
Which was an interesting reaction. Why would he hold back anything if he was so desperate to find his granddaughter? And if he didn't actually know anything about his granddaughter's living arrangements, then why would Adrienne hide Jodie's presence from her father and grandfather? The obvious answer was that she didn't think either would approve.
I glanced down at the woman on the bed, and I realized she was human. That might be one very good reason for the caution. But there could be another.
"Is Adrienne gay?"
His head jerked back so fast anyone would have thought I'd punched him. "No! Why would you even think that? She's my granddaughter."
"And being your granddaughter precludes the possibility of being gay, does it?"
"She is not one of those."
Again, his voice held an edge that was almost desperate. So, he mightn't know—or rather, might not want to know—the truth, but he guessed it all the same.
The fact that the mighty leader of the Jenson red pack was also homophobic was no great surprise. That had been apparent from his reaction to Rhoan over the years. But it must have been hell growing up in his family, knowing you were the one thing he hated. No wonder Adrienne had kept her sexuality such a closely guarded secret.
"Paramedics," another voice called from the other room.
"In the last bedroom down the hall," I yelled, then stepped around the bed, out of the way. Blake moved with me, his form shimmering, dropping in and out of focus.
A man and a woman came into the bedroom. She looked straight through Blake, not even acknowledging his presence. Which meant it was only me who could see him.
Lucky me.
I flashed my badge and told them how I'd found her.
"Smells like alcohol," one said, as his partner set the bags down. He looked around the room. "You seen any empty pill bottles? Anything to suggest she might have taken something else?"
"To be honest, I haven't really looked."
He grunted and looked at his partner, who immediately began a search. No empty bottles were found in the bedroom, but an empty bottle of sleeping pills were discovered in the bathroom.
"Right-o," the ambulance officer said cheerfully. "At least we know what we're dealing with."
"Will she be all right?"
"Probably. The depressant effects of alcohol can add to the effects of the sleeping pills, and can cause people to go into a coma or die, but I'd say she's puked most of the pills up. It probably saved her life."
Considering she hadn't choked on her own vomit, either, she was one lucky woman. Although she probably wouldn't think so when she finally came to.
"What hospital will you be taking her to?" I asked. "I'll need to question her once she's in the clear."
"The Alfred," the woman said, without looking at me.
"Thanks." I headed out. Blake followed.
"Why are you so interested in her?" he said. "What does she matter?"
"She matters," I said, keeping my voice low and free of anger, "because she may know of Adrienne's last movements. You know, who she was with, and so on."
I walked into the second bedroom and began looking around. This room smelled a little fresher, hinting at lime and citrus. It also had a small balcony attached, with a metal table and two chairs filling up most of the space. An ashtray and lighter sat in the middle of the table. I wondered which of the women smoked. Probably Jodie. It was more a human habit than wolf—there were far too many poisonous scents evident to sensitive noses. And if Adrienne put up with Jodie smoking, they really had to be in love.
There were lots of little bits and pieces scattered about the room that suggested that this room was used more as a dressing room than a bedroom. I opened the closet door to check it out. It was small, and packed with clothes sorted into two different sizes. Adrienne was tall and lanky, if these were anything to go by, because Jodie was on the petite side.
I closed the closet door, and went through the tallboy drawers. Underclothing, sweaters, and pajamas, in two distinct sizes. This was looking more and more like a couple's living arrangement rather than two single women sharing.
The paramedics trooped out with the still-unconscious Jodie. I checked the rest of the apartment, but didn't really find anything enlightening. I stopped in the middle of the living room and wondered where to go next.
Blake drifted in from the kitchen. "If you'd read my report, you would have already known that there was nothing here."
"Yeah, you searched so thoroughly you completely missed the fact there was another woman in residence."
His expression darkened. Once I would have feared that look, and part of me still did. I was a wolf, and there was no escaping the inherent need to obey my alpha. But even if he'd been real and here, I would have held my ground. I'd faced far worse than the likes of Blake in the last year or so, and much of the fear he still engendered was due more to memories than the man himself.