Perfect Mate (A Werewolf BBW Shifter Romance #2)(9)

"Such dazzling charm," Jordan said. Damien could almost hear his eyes rolling in his head.

"Watch a pro," Damien said. He bent the coat hanger into a hook and slid it expertly down into the window's small gap. Letting the hanger wander, he focused his attention on the vibrations coming through the metal into his fingers. If he could only find the latch—there!

With a flourish, he pulled up on the coat hanger and in a single smooth moment opened the car door.

"Abracadabra," he said. "Open sesame."

"Do you want to tell me how a wolf knows how to break into a car?" Jordan asked, climbing into the open door.

"It's just my magic touch," Damien said, wiggling his fingers. "That, and I read a book on it once."

"He read a book on it once," Jordan echoed. He opened up the glove compartment and a shuffle of papers fell out.

"Anything interesting?" Damien asked, irritated at his inability to see.

"Registration, proof of insurance, napkins," Jordan listed. "ID: Trevor Gordan. He's from around here, address is a P.O. Box, though. Oh hey, here's something."

"What? What is it?"

"Hotel key." Damien could hear the faint clicking as Jordan tapped the plastic card against his knuckle. "Guess who's staying at the Holiday Inn across town from us?"

"No kidding," Damien said. "Suppose we should have scouted inside the city."

"We drove through the main highway," Jordan said. "And Kyle can scent anything for miles around when he's in wolf form. I'm guessing he showed up not too long ago. After we scouted."

"Let's see," Damien said. "You'll have to get into the room first."

"Me? You're the one with the magic locksmith fingers."

"We don't need locksmith fingers," Damien said. "We have the key. We just need the room number."

"There's no envelope thing for the key," Jordan said.

"Then you'll have to go in and ask. Pretend you lost the key and forgot the room number."

"What, you want me to pretend I'm Trevor Gordan?" Jordan laughed aloud. "No way. I look nothing like this guy. You pretend to be him."

"I'm blind!" Damien said. They both paused for a moment.

"Alright," Jordan said. "Alright. You win."

"Glad to hear you've decided to listen to your alpha," Damien teased.

"Darling, if I get thrown in jail for impersonating someone you'd better bail me out."

Getting into the hotel turned out to be easier than either of them had guessed. Jordan got a new card and room number from the bored receptionist who was watching a soap opera at the desk. Damien waited outside of the lobby until Jordan came back, holding the key up.

"She was painting her nails. Didn't even bother asking for ID," Jordan said. "It's room 207."

They stood outside of the door and listened, but heard nothing.

"I can smell his scent," Jordan said. He slapped his forehead with his hand. "We should have just walked through the hall to smell the right room!"

"Hindsight and all that," Damien said, tapping his foot anxiously. "Let's go."

Jordan pushed the door open with one foot, stepping in cautiously. Damien listened intently, but the only noise was the low hum of a fan.

"Doesn't look like he left much," Jordan said. "There's just the one suitcase."

Damien walked into the room, letting his hands run over the top of the table, the bed.

"Nothing here," Jordan said, zipping the last of the suitcase pockets. "Dead end."

"Shh," Damien said.

"What is it?"

"It's time to be quiet, that's what it is," Damien said, turning his head in the direction of the sound. The hum he'd heard wasn't coming from the air conditioner at all. He knelt down by the bed and felt underneath the frame. His hands encountered a smooth surface, and he pulled out a laptop.

"Have I ever told you you'd make a great private detective?" Jordan asked, taking the laptop from Damien and opening it up.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Damien said, his mind racing as he imagined what was inside of the computer. "Can you see if he's logged into his email?"

"Password saved," Jordan said, clucking his tongue. "People really ought to be more careful with their security."

"Good thing they're not," Damien said, leaning over as though being closer to the laptop screen would enable him to detect what was on it. "Anything important?"

"One second," Jordan said. "I'm not a speed reader."

Damien waited as Jordan clicked through.

"Here's something," Jordan said. "Wait, this can't be right."

"What is it?"

Damien heard Jordan inhale through his teeth.

"Ok, let me read this to you. It's from a few days ago." He cleared his throat.

"Hi Trevor,

I found the girl. Red hair, and she has the marks on the back of her left hand. Her address is—it's Julia's address. Come soon. Let me know if you need help taking her. I can't wait to be back in the pack. See you soon, Kyle."