Chapter 6

"This is my husband Charles. I'm Jennifer. We were starting to think no one was going to come about poor Jacob and those girls."

"We came as soon as we got the report, ma'am," Anderson said quietly, folding his hands in his lap. Not even half a second later, however, he started to fidget, clearly as twitchy as Lynn felt. Worse, probably. Back in the days no one liked to talk about or acknowledge in any way, goblins ate basically everything, and they were only one of many creatures that preferred unicorn on the table rather than at it.

Lynn leaned forward, drawing their attention away from him. "Can you tell us what you saw, why you think this is a matter for the Bureau?"

Puffing up with offense, Jennifer replied, "Of course it's a matter for the Bureau! You can smell that thing if you get close enough to the lake. You should have gone straight there!" She wrinkled her nose and gave Lynn a brief, disapproving look, nose lifting slightly. "Krakens have a very distinct odor-you won't be able to miss it."

Lynn gave her a tight smile, biting back comments on both procedure and the fact she had no sense of smell if she wasn't appreciating his Armani cologne. "Indeed. So you've been able to smell him for quite some time, but did not bother to report it until after three people had died? You must have suspected something to react so quickly after people went missing."

Jennifer smoothed her hands along her summery blue skirt, fussing over non-existent wrinkles. "It is not our place to judge the way others choose to live. He had not hurt anyone. It's not a crime to live in a lake, and we can hardly call up the Bureau over an unpleasant smell. If that were possible-" she snapped her mouth shut as her husband lightly rested a hand on her thigh. "Well, we thought he was harmless enough, until he wasn't."

"Who was this..." Anderson looked down at the file he was holding, "Jacob Little."

"An ordinary, does something with computers. Goes running every morning," Charles replied. "Smells like soda pop and fried chicken with chocolate and orange notes."

Lynn quirked a brow at him.

"I have a sensitive nose," Charles said stiffly. "I know what everyone says about us, but we only eat meat we buy from butchers and in grocery stores." Lynn might have believed him if he hadn't cast the briefest, wistful look in Anderson's direction. Just how many people were they going to wind up arresting?

One problem at a time, and Wynn was more dangerous and time urgent. Anderson looked ready to bolt, but pressed on. "So Jacob Little disappeared on a morning run?"

"Yes," Jennifer replied. "Around seven thirty, give or take a few minutes. He was running a bit late-normally he heads out at seven on the dot."

Lynn shared a look with Anderson. "Right. Can you tell us anything about the others? Bethany Parish and Tanya Roberts?"

"They're new to the neighborhood." Jennifer pursed her lips. "I invited them to my monthly barbeque, but they did not come. I cannot tell you anything about them."

There was a finality to her tone that said they wouldn't be getting much more from the interview. He glanced at Anderson, who gave a minute nod. Standing, Lynn held out a hand and shook theirs again before holding out a business card. "Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please give me a call." He led the way out as quickly as he could without giving in to an urge to run. Outside, he wished it was late enough in the day for a drink. "That was interesting."

Anderson made a face. "I haven't felt like a piece of meat in a butcher shop in a long time. It's one thing to be looked at like that in a club or on a date, where everyone knows the eating is metaphorical. I hate when they look at me like that and we all know they're trying to decide between a balsamic marinade or lemon and rosemary." He huffed out a breath. "Are we certain it's your half-brother we're after?"

"We'll come back for them, believe me," Lynn replied. "They might bitch about how I smell, but I know damn good and well they'd snack on kraken too if we came in a manageable size." Anderson wrinkled his nose. On Jennifer, the gesture had looked ten kinds of absurd. On Anderson, it was a dangerous sort of adorable. Bad Lynn. No sexy, bitey thoughts about partners. Especially a partner he'd only known a few hours. "Let's hope the next interview contains fewer crazy people. Two overly enthusiastic carnivores is enough for me."

"Agreed."

Of course, of course, the way his fucking day had been going, the second house was ten kinds of worse.

"I beg your pardon," Anderson said in a low, dangerous tone that might have been ridiculously hot under different circumstances. Under current circumstances, alas, even if Anderson was oiled up and chained to a wall for a little bit of ritual sacrifice role play it would not have been hot. That was a good cheer up thought for later, though.

The two men in the doorway stiffened at Anderson's tone and recoiled slightly but did not back down. David, the shorter of the two, said, "I'm sure you understand."

Anderson looked ready to express his understanding by way of a swift uppercut. "No, I don't, actually. I'm afraid you'll have to spell out for me why you 'cannot permit someone like me to enter the premises'."

Looking increasingly uncomfortable but determined to stay the course, the two creepy-perfect unicorns shared another look, some silent conversation that would probably make Lynn go monster of the deep on their asses if he could hear it. They finally turned back to Anderson-still treating Lynn as if he were just a bit of shrubbery-and Simon, the taller one, replied with infuriating gentleness, "Unicorns should maintain certain standards, and we cannot permit deviants on the premises. Never mind..." they cast a look at Lynn.