Read Online The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1) by Domino Finn - Free Book Online
Authors: Domino Finn
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you're at least supposed to pretend that you didn't know better."
Hitchens, of course, was referring to Maxim's investigation into the Seventh Sons Motorcycle Club. Until three nights ago, the rumors of local werewolves were unfounded in the detective's eyes. Finally, after twelve years on the job, Maxim had seen the proof that he'd needed. Two bikers that had been in his custody transformed and escaped under the full moon. For Maxim, that changed everything.
However, one vital thing that did not change was the marshal's advisement to stay out of club affairs. The detective had ignored the mandate yesterday and brought the Seventh Sons president in for questioning.
Maxim sighed again and shook his mouse back and forth to wake his computer up. "She came in to talk to me of her own free will, Hitchens. She wanted to help find the killer—"
"Son," he snapped, "don't use that fool excuse on me!" Hitchens looked at the detective with wounded eyes. "And you'd better think twice before telling that to the marshal, now. He's not as cordial as I am."
Maxim couldn't hide his smirk. It was true that Deborah didn't exactly volunteer to come to the station. The outlaw club was brash and anti-authority, and its members equated helping the police with betrayal. Based in the unincorporated Arizona wild of Sycamore, the Seventh Sons had mostly managed to avoid run-ins with Sanctuary police. But recent infractions, particularly the murder at Sycamore Lodge, warranted a breach of terms—at least in Maxim's eyes.
"She was friends with my wife, Hitchens."
"Mmm hmm," he acknowledged, dismissing the sentiment. "And you think she's not friends with the marshal too? I'm just telling you to watch your back around her because she's watching hers. And if it's in a corner, she will bite you."
Maxim opened his drawer and shuffled through a stack of notes. He didn't doubt what the sergeant said but thought his worrying was overprotective. Maxim wasn't pushing anybody too far, at least not yet. His hand locked onto the paper he was looking for.
"It's funny," Maxim mused, allowing his thoughts to take him off course. "Lola and I got into fights all the time, so of course Deborah always despised me. But after my wife disappeared, Deborah treated me better, almost like she felt sorry for me."
"Is that what this is all about? Lola again?"
Maxim slammed his desk drawer shut. When his wife had disappeared, he did everything he could not to unravel.
"You know," said Maxim, "I moved to this town with her to become a police officer."
Hitchens nodded slowly. "Twelve years is a long time."
"And I'm good at it," continued Maxim. "But that didn't help Lola..."
Maxim had remained professional and focused on work without her, making sure not to take any actions that could be considered personal. Over the last two years, he had done things the way they were supposed to be done. And still, in the end, it hadn't gotten him what he needed.
As was often the case of late, Maxim stared wistfully at the silver wedding band he wore. Could he truly say that he had lived up to the commitment it promised?
Hitchens shook his head and went limp, relaxing back into his chair. "You did all a man could do, son."
Maxim simply turned the ring around his finger and watched the etched symbol complete a revolution.
"You did interviews, swept the area, checked neighboring towns, put out statewide and national alerts—"
"None of that worked." Maxim closed his eyes as he remembered the pressure he had been under. "A year in to being a detective and it was the first big case that I couldn't break. I was so concerned with being a good cop that I didn't think to be a good husband."
"But Maxim," said the sergeant softly, "you're a good person. Following procedure is just part of that. It's all this," he said, motioning at the paper in Maxim's hand, "that is going to destroy everything you've worked for."
Hitchens was too afraid of riling the wolves up. He was an old-timer
Hitchens, of course, was referring to Maxim's investigation into the Seventh Sons Motorcycle Club. Until three nights ago, the rumors of local werewolves were unfounded in the detective's eyes. Finally, after twelve years on the job, Maxim had seen the proof that he'd needed. Two bikers that had been in his custody transformed and escaped under the full moon. For Maxim, that changed everything.
However, one vital thing that did not change was the marshal's advisement to stay out of club affairs. The detective had ignored the mandate yesterday and brought the Seventh Sons president in for questioning.
Maxim sighed again and shook his mouse back and forth to wake his computer up. "She came in to talk to me of her own free will, Hitchens. She wanted to help find the killer—"
"Son," he snapped, "don't use that fool excuse on me!" Hitchens looked at the detective with wounded eyes. "And you'd better think twice before telling that to the marshal, now. He's not as cordial as I am."
Maxim couldn't hide his smirk. It was true that Deborah didn't exactly volunteer to come to the station. The outlaw club was brash and anti-authority, and its members equated helping the police with betrayal. Based in the unincorporated Arizona wild of Sycamore, the Seventh Sons had mostly managed to avoid run-ins with Sanctuary police. But recent infractions, particularly the murder at Sycamore Lodge, warranted a breach of terms—at least in Maxim's eyes.
"She was friends with my wife, Hitchens."
"Mmm hmm," he acknowledged, dismissing the sentiment. "And you think she's not friends with the marshal too? I'm just telling you to watch your back around her because she's watching hers. And if it's in a corner, she will bite you."
Maxim opened his drawer and shuffled through a stack of notes. He didn't doubt what the sergeant said but thought his worrying was overprotective. Maxim wasn't pushing anybody too far, at least not yet. His hand locked onto the paper he was looking for.
"It's funny," Maxim mused, allowing his thoughts to take him off course. "Lola and I got into fights all the time, so of course Deborah always despised me. But after my wife disappeared, Deborah treated me better, almost like she felt sorry for me."
"Is that what this is all about? Lola again?"
Maxim slammed his desk drawer shut. When his wife had disappeared, he did everything he could not to unravel.
"You know," said Maxim, "I moved to this town with her to become a police officer."
Hitchens nodded slowly. "Twelve years is a long time."
"And I'm good at it," continued Maxim. "But that didn't help Lola..."
Maxim had remained professional and focused on work without her, making sure not to take any actions that could be considered personal. Over the last two years, he had done things the way they were supposed to be done. And still, in the end, it hadn't gotten him what he needed.
As was often the case of late, Maxim stared wistfully at the silver wedding band he wore. Could he truly say that he had lived up to the commitment it promised?
Hitchens shook his head and went limp, relaxing back into his chair. "You did all a man could do, son."
Maxim simply turned the ring around his finger and watched the etched symbol complete a revolution.
"You did interviews, swept the area, checked neighboring towns, put out statewide and national alerts—"
"None of that worked." Maxim closed his eyes as he remembered the pressure he had been under. "A year in to being a detective and it was the first big case that I couldn't break. I was so concerned with being a good cop that I didn't think to be a good husband."
"But Maxim," said the sergeant softly, "you're a good person. Following procedure is just part of that. It's all this," he said, motioning at the paper in Maxim's hand, "that is going to destroy everything you've worked for."
Hitchens was too afraid of riling the wolves up. He was an old-timer
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