I spotted Evan leaning up against one of the trees. He was by himself. So far, it seemed, the whole pack meeting was more of a weekly get-together. I hadn't bothered introducing myself to any of the other wolves, and aside from Dinah and Trevor, none of them said anything to me. 

Oh, I caught some of the looks. You know that look people give you upon first meeting, trying to figure you out? Yeah, I got a few of those. The Blackthorne Pack was a tight-knit group, and even though Taylor had told them to welcome me...they didn't, not really. I saw it in some of the glances from male and female alike. A few of the wolves cast their eyes down, but the others seemed to be warning me.

 I ignored it as best as I could, moving carefully around two female wolves who were talking about work. I approached Evan. His brown gaze flicked to me and then back toward the distance. He acted as if he couldn't be bothered, but he said, "I told you the truth. You don't have to stalk me, you know."

 "Who said I was stalking you?" I asked. He scoffed as a look of disgust fell over his features. "Why else would you be here?"  

 "What do you know about a man named Seth Hansen?" I dropped my voice so that, over the happy-chatty werewolves, no one would hear us. He looked at me. "Dinah's brother?"

 "That's the one," I said, stepping into him. "Where is he, Evan? I'm not fucking with you." His voice dropped an octave. "How the fuck would I know?" I closed my eyes, trying not to lose my temper. "Playing the innocent card isn't working in your favor, Evan." I met his brown almost black gaze. "I know what you did. I have a witness," I said, then added, "James." 

"James?" he looked genuinely perplexed. "Who the fuck is James?"

 "The name you gave the woman in the park," I said, "or is that too hard for you to remember?" Evan bared his teeth in a growl. He stepped into me, so that we were nearly touching. "I...did...not...do...anything." I stared up at him. "Then, Evan, I suggest you fucking prove it." A look slid through his eyes, almost too quick to catch, but I caught it. 

Evan Peters was afraid. "I can't." Ally Brooke's words haunted my memory. He used to work as a park ranger. He didn't specify which park when I asked him, just said one of the parks in Colorado. "How long have you lived in Florida?" I asked. "All of my life," he said. "Shit," I said and with feeling.

 I gave him a hard look. "Can you prove that?" But he didn't need to. I could feel it this time. He was telling the truth. Fuck. "Yes," he said and for a moment, my mind faltered. I hesitated as I looked at the man in front of me. If Evan was the murderer, why didn't he out to me to the pack as a woman that works with the police? 

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and walked past Evan and into the wooded area beyond. Dylan picked up on the second ring. "Yeah, Mila. What is it?" 

"I need you to do me a favor."

 "A favor?"

 "Yes," I said, "I want you to run Evan's name. You remember Evan Peters?" I asked. "The man living in the trailer off Southeast Twenty-sixth?"

 "Running it," he said. "What do you need?"

 "How long has he lived in Florida?" 

"Is he a suspect, Camila?"

 "I don't know, Dylan, just tell me." I heard the sounds of computer keys clacking away. I kept walking deeper into the woods, farther away from the pack. Even if I knew it already, I wanted to make sure. If I ended up killing him for some reason, I wanted to know that I'd done all the legal research. 

"Evan Peters has lived here," Dylan said, "since nineteen eighty-seven. That would be the year he was born," Dylan added. "No records of moving in or out of state. I've got a listing of old addresses, do you want them?" I mentally cursed myself. "No. Any criminal background?" I asked. "Nope," he said, then asked, "Is Evan Peters a suspect, Camila?"

 "Not anymore," I said. "Thanks." I hung up. If Evan Peters wasn't my suspect, then who was? A twig snapped behind me and I spun on my heel in direction of the noise. No one was there. Gee, me, easily spooked? Nah.

 I started heading back toward the clearing. I'd put enough distance between myself and the pack that I'd given myself a bit of time to make up an excuse as to my disappearance for the duration of a phone call. I heard another noise behind me. I turned and someone's beefy fist connected with the side of my face hard enough that the canopy of trees spun and I caught myself on the hard ground with my forearms.

 I coughed, the pain searing through my bones and flesh. I spat, tasting blood. A heavy booted foot connected with my stomach; the air was knocked out of my lungs and I curled into a fetal position, trying to protect myself. 

Something heavy connected with the back of my skull and the world went black. 

So I'm going to try and finish the rest of the book by tonight, because with this bitch Irma coming idk how long my power will stay on, plus I probably wont be on for a while after she leaves FL because I'll be cleaning up her aftermath...

Good luck to the others who are going to have to deal with Irma...