Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack #7)(9)
Best regards,
Lydia
Frankie slung her phone back in the cup holder and twisted her key in the ignition. She needed to do some damn research.
A little later she pulled up in her driveway. Inside the house she hooked her jacket over the banister before kicking off her shoes and heading down the hallway. The oak flooring was cool and smooth beneath her feet.
Her wolf was happy to be back in her territory, surrounded by the soothingly familiar scents of lavender, wood, and leather.
In the homey walnut kitchen, Frankie poured herself a glass of red wine. She had a feeling she was going to need it. She sure as hell could have done with one when she’d talked to her grandparents, she thought, as she made her way into the living area. Standing on the soft rug near the fireplace, she stared at the framed photo of her mother that stood on the mantel beside other pictures and keepsakes. What happened that night? Why did it happen?
Frankie took a long gulp of wine and then set the glass on the coffee table. Sinking into the plush sofa, she dragged her cushioned lap tray onto her thighs and then set her laptop on top of it.
Her nearest neighbor was half a mile away; thus she never received complaints about the amount of noise she made while working, and there were no sounds of kids playing, people talking, or loud music filtering through the open window. There was only the ticking of her laptop keys and the hum of the air conditioning.
There were many websites and blogs about shifters, which was how she’d learned so many things about her kind that she wouldn’t have otherwise known. The information had helped her understand her wolf and identify herself as a dominant female. Hopefully, there would also be information to help her understand what happened the night her parents died.
Bringing up the Internet, she typed in “Caroline Newman murder.” Several results popped up, most of which appeared to be articles. She clicked on the first result, which took her to a blog that catalogued crimes committed by shifters. Leaning forward, she read it.
Caroline Newman, a 25-year-old human ex-schoolteacher, was attacked and killed by her mate and wolf shifter, Christopher Brooks, on Bjorn Pack territory in California in May 1993. Brooks stabbed her eleven times in the chest with a Japanese chef knife on their kitchen floor before strangling her to death. Brooks, 30, later shot himself in the temple. The noise alerted pack mates, who raced to the scene. The only witness to the murder was their three-year-old daughter, Francesca, who was too traumatized to provide a statement.
A photo accompanied the article, of Frankie being huddled into her grandparents’ car mere days after the murder.
Below that was a picture of Caroline and Christopher together, happy and smiling like loons. Frankie studied him, took in each of his facial features. She had his eyes, she thought. Had the same slight dent in her chin and the same dimples when she smiled. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Frankie went on to read other articles. There were pictures of her mother in each one—a graduation photo, a picture of her on vacation, and a family shot of Caroline with her parents. There was even one of Caroline and Frankie together.
There was nothing but speculation about what had happened. Some stated that “sources” claimed Christopher had killed Caroline in a jealous rage. Others stated that he’d been out of his mind on a drug that shifters had produced but denied existed. There were those who believed that he’d been mentally ill and suicidal, and he’d only killed Caroline because he’d wanted them to die together.
Some bloggers expressed surprise that a shifter would hurt his mate, while others felt it was only to be expected, considering that “shifters are a few evolutionary steps away from animals.”
Members of the Bjorn Pack had refused to comment. Marcia was quoted several times in various articles, defaming shifters and bad-mouthing the Bjorn Pack. One particular quote was included in several articles: “My daughter was a beautiful person, inside and out. Christopher Brooks took her from us and robbed her of her life—stabbed her, strangled her, and then shot himself like a coward. He robbed their daughter of a mother. He was evil, pure and simple.”
Rubbing her nape, Frankie sank back into her seat. She’d hoped for answers, but now she had yet more questions.
Was it true that Christopher had taken drugs?
Was it possible that he had in fact been mentally unbalanced?
Why had he killed her mother?
And . . . why hadn’t he killed Frankie too?
Wanting to know more about his pack, she punched “the Bjorn Pack California” into the search engine. Again there were plenty of results. Finding a site that seemed dedicated to recording information on wolf packs, she clicked on the link. There was only a brief history of the pack, which was hardly surprising since shifters were highly private and insular. Her mother’s murder was briefly mentioned in connection with the pack. However, the writer of the article seemed more interested in an event that later led the pack to divide.
Allegedly the original Alpha, Rick Coleman, lost a duel to his teenage son, Trey. Instead of stepping aside to allow the teen to rule, Rick banished him. Many supported the banishment. Those who didn’t support it then left with Trey, grouping together to form the Phoenix Pack.
Frankie clicked on the hyperlink that would take her to a page on the Phoenix Pack and found herself intrigued by what she read . . .
Battled with the Bjorn Pack after Trey’s father died and the Beta took the position of Alpha.