3

Canis Candem Edit “Dog Eat Dog”

--Latin Proverb

Severiano and Lambey were unusually quiet as they drove to Maria Smith-Kolsos’ apartment. The stress was steadily getting to them; so many deaths, but so few suspects, caused the stress to manifest itself as exhaustion. 

Lambey, from the passenger seat, looked over at his old friend. The lines in his face were more pronounced, and his light skin appeared dark under his eyes. He doubted Severiano got much sleep lately.

Yet he knew he couldn’t look any better. He could count how many hours he’d slept this week on one hand.

As if sensing his eyes on him,  Severiano looked away from the road, catching Lambey’s gaze.

“What is it?”

“We look old.”

Severiano laughed, it was just like his pessimistic best friend to say something like that.

“Thanks a lot buddy,” he grinned, “but then again, aren’t you like 50?”

Lambey groaned, “Don’t even joke about that. We’re only two years away from that, man. Although you look like you hit it about three years ago. You Hispanics age badly.”

Lambey smiled at him, he knew that he was obviously the older of the two, even if by only a few months. And it was only three weeks away from his birthday.

“Wow, thanks again. You’re on a roll today, huh?”

Lambey shrugged as he took another pull of his cigarette.

“I thought I told you not to smoke in the car.”

Lambey rolled his eyes, “We’re almost there, relax, I promise I’ll clean up any mess I may make.”

“And how do you plan to get the smell of smoke out of the leather?”

He gestured towards the tree shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. “That’s what it’s there for, my man.”

They parked their black BMW Alpine B7 on the curb directly in front of the house.  Lambey stepped out, flicking away his cigarette as he closed the door. Severiano was already at front of the door, ringing the bell.

A surprisingly attractive woman opened the door, looking annoyed by the intrusion.

“Can I help you?”

They flashed their badges, “Yes, I’m Mathew Severiano, and this is my partner Carl Lambey,” Lambey nodded in her direction, “and we’re investigating your son’s murder.”

She sighed and looked away, seeming to reminisce about her deceased son.

“I’ve already spoken with the police.”

“Yes ma’am, we know. But we’re conducting our own investigation.”

She contemplated for a moment, considering his words. Then without another sound, she turned around and walked inside, leaving the door open for them. The silently closed the door behind them and followed her into the living room.

“Coffee, or anything else to drink?” she offered.

“No thank you, I’m fine,” Severiano replied.

“I wouldn’t mind iced tea,” Lambey requested. His partner nudged him, and he quickly added, “if you have it.”

She shuffled into the kitchen, leaving them alone for a few moments before returning with drinks for the both of them. She sat across from them, crossing her legs, and waited for them to interview her.

Lambey pulled a notepad and pen from his breast pocket. He gestured towards his partner, instructing him to begin. He took another sip of his tea before placing it on the table and clearing his throat.

“Just for the record, please state your name.”

She rolled her eyes, “Maria Smith-Kolsos. Can we begin now?”

Severiano nodded, “What can you tell us about your son?”

“Regarding what?”

“Anything you feel is of importance.”

She hesitated, “Well… no… there’s nothing really. He was quiet, and kept to himself. And when he moved out, I saw even less of him than before.”

Severiano glanced at his partner, who had just finished a sentence on the paper. The words didn’t refer directly to anything that she’d told us, but as a former psychologist, Lambey was able to evaluate her behavior.

Severiano took a deep breath before continuing. He tried to remember the order in which he should ask the questions.

“Did anything strange happen around the time of his death?”

She looked confused, “Strange?”

“Yeah, strange. Out of the ordinary, not normal, odd,” Lambey offered.

She looked at him, angrily at first, then thoughtful as she tried to remember.

“Well, there was this man,” she hesitated, “He was young, and black. I’m not used to seeing a lot of them,” she glanced apologetically to Lambey, who nodded as if to say Don’t worry about it, before continuing, “so it surprised me when he talked to me.”

Lambey seemed to be more interested and he leaned forward, “Go on.”

“Well he said he never said what he wanted, but it was easy to talk to him. He was very… handsome,” she said sheepishly.

They nodded knowingly. Though she was 50 years old, Ms. Kolsos wasn’t bad looking herself. It was very possible that she was attracted to a lot of younger men. Certainly they were attracted to her.

“How young was he? A teenager?”

“No, he was probably about 25-26.”

“What did he say?”

“Well that he’d seen me around and that he couldn’t help but talk to me. At least ask my name,” she beamed as she remembered him, “He was very romantic. Always knew the right things to say… to do.” She stared off into the distance, and the agents were sure she was remembering something private. Her eyes found them again after a few seconds and her face went dark.

“But then, he asked me about my son…”

“What did he want to know?” Severiano pressed.

“Well he said the same thing you said.”

They both stared at her, not comprehending.

“‘Anything of importance’,” she clarified.

“And what did you say to him?”

“I told him everything. About his high school troubles, about any girl who came after that. His schooling, his work, his apartment. It never bothered me before, talking to him. He would only ask once a day or so. But then he just disappeared. I never heard from him again. That was about a month ago.”

Severiano and Lambey sat quietly, waiting for her to continue. The quiet lasted a little too long and Lambey broke the silence.

“Ma’am?”

She shook herself out of her stroll down memory lane, “Yes?”

“What was his name?”

She looked pained as she remembered.

“It was Lucas.”

***

The wind shifted, sending a million different scents into the nostrils of the four men who stood motionless on the moonlit rooftop. They inhaled eagerly, silently competing amongst themselves, trying to be the first to find the scent they hunted. The lights in buildings around the city went out one by one, as they stood there. Time wasn’t a factor to these men, they’d trained in the harshest conditions imaginable for what seemed like lifetimes. 3 years in complete darkness in France. 4 years in the sub zero Antarctic desert without shelter. Time was nothing.

So who knows how long those men stood there, eyes closed, unmoving, before the wind shifted and the familiar scent reached them. They bared their teeth eagerly, looking towards their leader for the results of their competition.

It reached all of you at the same time. A fact I know you all didn’t want to hear.

Of course, as always, their leader was right. The only thing worse than losing, to them, was sharing a victory. Jean-Luc stepped out the darkness, casting a fearsome shadow on the ground.

“We warned him, no?”

They nodded.

“Then punish him.”

Silently they all rushed off of the rooftop, taking separate routes to their target. Their approach seemed random, but they were bound by Jean-Luc, and his influence compelled them to advance as they did. A seemingly random attack, would be hard to counter, and even harder to predict.

As the wolf that had transformed them, Jean-Luc had access to their thoughts, and whatever they saw. And in return, he gave them the same admission, with limits, of course. Using their connection, Jean-Luc made sure that his men always knew where their comrades were, and what they’re plan of attack was, which made for an extremely efficient fighting force. It made his unit of Seekers fight, act, and seek… as one entity. One mind, one objective, no chance of failure.

Jean-Luc watched from afar while his Seekers closed in on their prey. Again, my apologies, but you have left us no choice. Let’s see what you can do, Lucas.